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Going Through my Dream Wallet

Date: 22-Mar-2014/12:02+3:00

Tags: , , ,

Characters: me, girl, glasses guy

I was walking around in a building, and as I came to lucidity I decided I wanted to leave the building and go outside. There was a sense I had that there was a door around the corner, but when I turned to go out it I found myself facing an up and a down escalator.
me: (to passerby) "Okay, that's strange. I thought there was a door here."
A man stopped and shrugged at me. I looked more closely and my field of view widened a bit so I could sort of see "behind" the escalators. There was an "emergency exit: alarm will sound" sign on a door.
me: "I'd consider inhabiting a dream body in a parallel dimension to be an emergency. Sorry if this bothers people."
I opened the door and an alarm went off. It was dark outside, and there was a little cement driveway with a van parked with its back toward the emergency exit. The area was gated and I was fenced in. With some difficulty I managed to climb over a wall and into an alley.
Wanting to get away from the alarm situation, I went down a couple of streets and arrived at some kind of bar with a bouncer. I wasn't sure if he was going to let me in, but he opened the door and motioned me to a free table to sit at. The tables were numbered and I sat at an empty one that said "6". A thin Asian man sat across from me.
I picked up one of the drink menus and turned to a girl sitting at the adjacent table who was looking at me.
me: "I'm still very curious about the physics of this. How can a spirit be connected with a body? What's the mechanism of how I got here?"
girl: "That's not a question I know the answer to."
When I turned back to my table, it was now filled up. There was a precise-looking man with glasses and a notebook. Looking to the drink menu I saw the prices seemed to be about $7 for a drink. I pulled out my wallet to look at it.
me: "Okay, let's see. Dream wallet, check. Hopefully there's enough in here to pay for a drink."
The guy with glasses looked over my shoulder as I asked him questions about what was in the wallet. One was a credit-card sized device that had markings on it seeming to suggest it contained electronics, and the lines were outlining where the different parts were (battery, transmitters, etc.)
me: (holding up the card) "What's this for?"
glasses guy: "It's a sort of universal key. You use it as an ID, it starts your car."
me: "No pictures. Hmmm. Guess I can't figure out who I am from that."
I pulled out something that was also the size of a credit card, but looked like some sort of sheath; where you would slot things into it instead of slotting it into other things.
me: "And what's this?"
glasses guy: (laughing) "That is the greatest universal standard for credit cards ever. No I am joking, that is very non-standard. I don't know why it's like that. But the marking on it is for a credit agency."
As I turned the item around in my hands I noticed something odd about the tips of my fingers. They had small reverse-video prints of black numbers on them, and some circuit-looking things. As I focused on my hands they no longer looked like flesh but started to cross over into looking white and robotic.
me: "Hm. Okay, I am a robot, apparently. Well, whatever. Say... as long as we're talking couldn't we exchange some kind of information? I mean, I can tell you about things we have... even simple things. You can tell me if you have them or not. How about LEGO, do you know what that is?"
glasses guy: "No..."
me: "Well give me that pad and a pen, I can draw some stuff up for you."
I took his notebook and found a blank page, and began to write on it. As I wrote on it I noticed the page filling up behind what I was writing. Frustrated, I kept turning pages and finding blank areas where information would start scribbling under me and seemingly sliding out from where other writing was.
me: "Okay, I don't know if your notebook is scribbling on itself...or if I'm unable to find a blank page and only perceiving it to be blank. Why don't you find a blank page for me?"
He took the notebook and flipped through it and shrugged about the fact that he didn't have any blank pages.
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copy write %C:/0304-1020 {Met^(00C6)ducation}

The accounts written here are as true as I can manage. While the words are my own, they are not independent creative works of fiction —in any intentional way. Thus I do not consider the material to be protected by anything, other than that you'd have to be crazy to want to try and use it for genuine purposes (much less disingenuous ones!) But who's to say?