dream

This was a dream I had this morning which I remember quite clearly. And I've never been to China, so don't ask me what it's about. Just writing it down.

It starts with shoes. I'm buying new shoes, then new pants, then a shirt... before you know it, I'm dressed in all black in a dreary but well cut suit with non-descript patent leather shoes that are shiny enough to look shiny when you look but not very shiny when you look away. Then I'm greeted in what looks like an underground area, dirty and grimy like a New York subway station.

A man in a grey suit walks up to me. "Mr. Rampersad, this way", he says, placing his arm behind me and meeting me aside from the line near the steel I beam supporting the ceiling, the ground, the roof. I hand him a card, he scans it and hands it back, ushering me to the very head of the line where there is an open doorway with a mild light, pressing me through.

I'm seated. It looks like an airplane.

I'm disembarked. I'm on a strange street, walking through an area with bent fences. Someone leads me forward to some place to spend the night. Concrete is as common as sand in the desert, there is no grass to be seen. There are no people. Just cars and traffic lights as we hustle to the destination. The voice leading me tells me my ex-wife awaits. This doesn't surprise me.

I'm in a room, standing, looking at a nondescript woman who must be my ex-wife. There's an intangible familiarity to her. We talk about plans for the evening. We go out to a bar, people are dancing. I leave, walking past some pillars supporting the sky.

I'm seated again. It looks like an airplane. An Asian woman in a blue uniform, cap included, checks my ex-wife's ticket. "Beijing", she says. She looks at me and asks me if I'm going to Beijing, too. I show her my ticket. She glances at it, makes eye contact with me and smiles, relieved and flirtatious at the same time. "Kunming", she says, holding my gaze a moment too long. She retreats.

As more unit knowledge becomes available, unit demand should decrease. Seeing this, greedy people are trying to artificially inflate unit demand. They will fail. They have to.

There are no micro-transactions. There can never be micro-transactions - or in 20 years we will be talking about nano-transactions. And 20 years from there, something else. Why not just say, "increasingly small transactions"?

Solar energy actually comes as alternating current - we just trap half a cycle and block that half from getting away.

It was an orange daylight, cascading across a coffee shop he was unfamiliar with. Whenever he looked around, he recognized people from his life. On one side sat a woman he loved, blond, hair flowing across the back of a couch – but she was not alone, and he did not know who she was with – but that did not disturb him. At the bar, he saw another woman he loved, her secret safe in the crowd as she chatted away and laughed as only a Dutch speaking woman could. Another blond woman sat at the other side of the bar, catching his eye she smiles and waves.

He waves back. He's not quite sure how he got here. He's not quite sure what he's doing here, but here he is. He orders a triple espresso as he used to, recognizing the woman who serves it as a failed date from a Son Volt concert – but who remained a friend. There sits Heather, the shy girl in college, and over there is the woman he always wished he had spoken to. And over there, and over there, and...

He now sees the men, recognizing a Professor from his days in college, a Doctor from his days in the Navy, the sane ex-boxer turned 12 string guitarist at coffee shops, the Apache roommate, the midnight bong engineer of the old gang and so many others. So many others.

The blond with the Colombian accent comes over, gives him a hug and walks back to where she sits. He walks over, nodding at the man next to her.

'Hi. So you're with her now?'
'I think so. I'm not sure.'
'She's a good woman.'
'I think so. I'm not sure.'
'She can be a little strange.'
'I think so. I'm not sure.'
'Get sure.'

In a dream, a man encounters his Uncle - an Uncle who had a dream of building something and growing things. And in this dream, the Uncle comes to him because those he left behind did not follow the dream. Standing on the earth near the pond where his once living body sat on a swing, they walk over to the place a house is being planned, not far away.

The man tells his dream to his Uncle, of building not far from where the Uncle planned of building. Of growing not far from where the Uncle planned of growing. The Uncle lays down, his face embracing the ground, and he sleeps. And he melts into the earth without a word, but he really seems to melt into the dream being spoken. He is gone. He is at rest. Or the part of the nephew which is the Uncle now rests.