The Republic of Heaven

Aargh! I can see tanks being sent into graveyards. This is terrifying!

<Pinches himself violently>

<Doesn't wake up>

That sounds odd...

*strokes Alec affectionately* *Alec purrs*

Well, if we're doing dreams again.. ~*iguana*~ excellent one last night. 1970, Isle of Wight, Jimi Hendrix less than a foot away from me.

Awesome. I had a dream I saw Muse a week or so ago. Matt was being mean to me, and he had me booted out of the mosh pit. And I didn't even see Dominic. Boo.

No Muse in my dreams, yet.

This was really, really close though. Like, he and Mitch Mitchell and the uh, other one, were playing sitting down at a table and I was sitting on the other side of it. Could practically play footsie with him.. if I'd have wanted to.

I dreamt last night that Tony Blair told me he has no plans to resign.

I dreamt last night that Tony Blair told me he has no plans to resign.

that was a dream? and not some sort of nightmare...?

-- darren

that was a dream? and not some sort of nightmare...?

Not like the Arabian Nightmare Blair is currently experiencing. I bet he'd like to fall asleep.

I have great fun at the staff canteen on Saturday with the Indie. Every time I opened it, and saw a photie of Bambi, I'd scream in horror and close it hurryedly.

I hate dreams. They never make any sense.

Dreamed last night about band, but it was really messed-up and not in the usual way... I was trying out for drum major as well as section leader, and one of my friends was trying to convince people I was on drugs so they wouldn't vote for me, but I ended up somehow subjugating the whole school to my will and life was good.
Wish that would actually happen.

I dreamt I was in a musical with Hugh Jackman
That man is pure sex!!

I can't remember what I dreamt last night but I know it was one of the trippiest things ever. Crashing at parties is so fun...

All my dreams end up with me fighting, my school, me being the only person left alive and then I find myself waking up with my fist cletched in a way that it looked like I was holding a katana and a desert eagle. Also I have dreams about me having wings and then I get attacked by angels, but thats just my crazy mixed up mind.

I dreampt that I peeled off all of the bright yellow USED stickers on the textbooks that my dratted school wouldn't take back, I think the idea was that a used bookstore would offer more money for them if the stickers were gone.

I seemed like a pretty good idea, so...guess what I did this morning!

Jeez... In my dream, I was house-sitting in a mansion in the country, and anyway, after some time, I ended outside in a field with the widescreen TV from the house, but I went up onto a high bridge some way off, and a moose was nosing around the TV. In a panic, I shot the moose with a sighted rifle I had... Only my intention was to shoot near it and scare it off, but somehow as I came to aim, I couldn't help putting the crosshair right on its head and pulling the trigger.

Afterwards, I was wracked with terrible guilt, which was magnified by the knowledge that after I had shot it I had been very proud at the accuracy of my shot. Then I was carrying the moose (which had gone solid as if I'd taken it to a taxidermists) up flights of stairs, and I met two girls from my year at school, and they asked me why I had the moose. I confessed that I'd shot it and one of them kicked me, then they were laghing incredulously. I woke up soon after....

The moth fluttering about the lamp is taking on a quite malevolent significance, and begining to look more distinct than everything else in the room.

Time for bed, before dreams and reality become mixed up.

I don't remember my dreams all that often.

Although I can recall one where I was buried in this series of underground tunnels by kidnappers.

Worry not, dear Alec, for my devotion to you and my reverence of all that you say will be born forever as long as this mortal vessel can sustain the beating of my heart - and oh, it beats only for you, my love!
<Max starts playing the cello; mournful, sombre, sonorous tones.
Breaks into an operatic ode to melancholia, singing your virtues with all the gusto in these humble lungs>

Erm, Max dearest, has Melancholia seen what you've got in your sig? Or should I dive for the bunker quick, before he wakes up?

Erm, Max dearest, has Melancholia seen what you've got in your sig? Or should I dive for the bunker quick, before he wakes up?

How could he possibly object to such an unabashed declaration of eternal adoration, inalienable devotion and unconditional love? He is exalted above all others, he is deified, he is the apotheosis of all living things! The very Wisdom herself trembles before his mighty intellect; an army of scribes write down every word he articulates and carves them into adamant, lest a fraction of his lifetime's genius be lost; his mind encompasses a knowledge greater than all of the internet; his thoughts are of higher significance and greater complexity than any of the feeble philosophical dabblings of bygone men such as Plato, Aristotle, Newton - he is without parallel in all that exists, past, present, future.

I pledge to him my absolute and unrestrained allegiance until the day of my death, and then forever may my soul dwell by his side.

How could I forget a conclusion to this tribute to the subject of my idolatry:

And finally it must be spake that the very sun itself doth radiate forth from the depths of his most noble fundament.