JOURNAL ARCHIVE: Date: Thu, 6 Apr 2006 14:24:34 -0700 (PDT)
From: "Kerry Burgess"
Subject: Re: Sleep journal 4/6/06
To: "Kerry Burgess"
Kerry Burgess wrote:
Details about my recent sleep are very fuzzy today. Can't remember for sure when I woke up. 3 am maybe. Or maybe shortly after midnight, can't really remember as I usually can. Remember dreaming something about driving my Jeep. Then I returned to it where it was parked in a parking lot after I was traveling through some passageways, hallways in a transit facility maybe. The only part I remember clearly is where a woman, I assume was my imaginary girlfriend asked me out for drinks or something. I told her we needed to keep it really casual though because all I had to wear was sweatpants. Kind of the downside to dating a homeless person I reflect now as I write this. She told me she would wear something with holes in it. I hope that was her in my dream, although the woman in the dream seemed to be someone unfamilar though. But I have noticed that happening with other people I know. They are represented, somehow, by a different person, but I think of them as someone specific. I feel like that is part of the manipulation. I have noticed something similar in real dreams, but I don't think it is the same here. I think they are disquising themselves in my dream for some reason. Anyway, if it really was her, she actually doesn't have to worry about dressing down if we were to go out. Of course, if I have my way, it would be a moot point because why would I want to go out with her when I am in such an ugly situation? At the minimum, I would want to be back to work so that I have regained some independence. And hey, next time you are in my dreams, dear imaginary girlfriend, how about wearing a bikini?
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 6 April 2006 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: Date: Thu, 9 Feb 2006 15:51:02 -0800 (PST)
From: "Kerry Burgess"
Subject: Re: Sleep journal - 2/9/06
To: "Kerry Burgess"
Kerry Burgess wrote:
Only remember a brief part of my dreams last night. It feels like there was more dreaming but I can only remember what seems like the last part. This felt like a normal dream and not one that was what I consider "suggested" or "manipulated." This recent dream was of me sitting in a room with three other guys. We were all wearing U.S. Navy uniforms and it seemed to be some kind of waiting room. I was enroute to a new assignment, a ship somewhere. One of the guys seemed to be a CPO, another was a LT. The third guy was a buddy of mine from the Wainwright, except that the uniform he was wearing was only similar to a U.S. Navy uniform but really wasn't. I walked out of the room with someone that I don't think was one of the first group. I was walking down some stairs.
My sleep pattern has changed over the past few days since I haven't experienced one of the foreign dreams. I am sleeping later. For the first time in a long time, I didn't get up to watch the 5 a.m. news, which is a bummer, but in all reality is a silly thing to feel bad about anyway.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 9 February 2006 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: Date: Tue, 14 Feb 2006 12:43:51 -0800 (PST)
From: "Kerry Burgess"
Subject: Sleep journal 2/14/06
To: "Kerry Burgess"
Funny how I don't remember any dreams last night or this morning. I slept about 3 or 4 hours late in the evening and then a few hours later this morning. I don't remember anything. And then there is the way the few foreign dreams I've had lately seemed to be quieter, as if the manipulators were almost whispering or they were transmitting with a lower power setting. I do remember waking up at one point where it sounded like someone was telling Donald Pleasance that he had a taxi waiting for him downstairs to take him to the airport. Pleasance was the guy who was chasing that guy around in those Halloween movies. He also played a blind guy trying to escape from a WW2 German POW camp.
For the past couple of days I have been meaning to bring up again a dream that happened about two years ago that I believe was a foreign dream. I recorded it in my journal shortly after that but I have lost control of all my personal effects due to this situation. I remember waking up absolutely terrified. There was something terrifying about my digital alarm clock. It seemed that the numbers had stopped, that time itself had stopped. It was probably several minutes before I regained my senses. I don't know why I was so terrified.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 14 February 2006 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: Date: Thu, 16 Feb 2006 16:03:13 -0800 (PST)
From: "Kerry Burgess"
Subject: Sleep journal 2/16/06
To: "Kerry Burgess"
I dreamt a lot lately, but end up not remembering very much. The only dream segment I remember has a navy uniform theme to it. I just remember something about wearing the uniform and something about wearing the E-9 insignia. In the latest one, I remember something about an officer informing me that the recommended me for a high-profile military academy. But since I am too old now to attend someplace like Annapolis, the scenario may have occurred in the past, especially because sometimes I see things that suggest several officer paygrade, with LCDR the highest rank I have seen myself associated with.
I'm not when this started, or whether I saw it in a dream, but I've had these ideas about something Microsoft is up to. Recently I wrote that Microsoft is 'possibly' the culprit in all this, but then I realized that it is highly likely they are responsible, they just have thousands of lawyers sitting around thinking up ways to obstruct justice so this thing never gets resolved. I started thinking that the government was trying to resolve, but Microsoft hoisted their Jolly Roger flag and sailed into the fog after making me walk the plank.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 16 February 2006 excerpt ends]
http://www.cswap.com/1994/Star_Trek:_Generations/cap/en/25fps/a/00_18
Star Trek: Generations
:19:21
Lower the Badge of Office.
:19:28
He'll never make it. No one ever has.
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: From: Kerry Burgess
To: Kerry Burgess
Sent: Mon, February 27, 2006 12:52:14 PM
Subject: Sleep journal 2/27/06
There was a bunch of stuff in my dreams last night, but I only remember one part. I was also very tired when I woke up, but couldn't go back to sleep. The part of the dream I do remember is where I was walking down some stairs. It seemed to be outside, as in stairs leading down the outside of a building, a factory maybe. I am thinking it was at the end of something, a conclusion of something. I turned around after going down a couple of the stairs and was organizing some stuff, books maybe. I couldn't get them all together or something and I think I was going to have to make a second trip to bring them all down. Within the boxes and books, I pulled out a hat and put it on. It was a U.S. Navy Officer's cover.
Today I am also thinking back to that dream I had in my last days at Microsoft. I told a friend about it. I dreamed that someone had set off two bombs and I was watching the towering clouds from the explosions rising high into the atmosphere. I was baffled at how people were going around their normal business like nothing had happened. There was one person I recognized, a guy that was on the same team as I. I didn't understand why no one was concerned.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 27 February 2006 excerpt ends]
http://www.online-literature.com/london/whitefang
THE LITERATURE NETWORK
Literature Network » Jack London » White Fang
White Fang
http://www.online-literature.com/london/whitefang/3
THE LITERATURE NETWORK
Literature Network » Jack London » White Fang » Chapter 3
The night was a repetition of the night before, save that the need for sleep was becoming overpowering. The snarling of his dogs was losing its efficacy. Besides, they were snarling all the time, and his benumbed and drowsy senses no longer took note of changing pitch and intensity. He awoke with a start. The she-wolf was less than a yard from him. Mechanically, at short range, without letting go of it, he thrust a brand full into her open and snarling mouth. She sprang away, yelling with pain, and while he took delight in the smell of burning flesh and hair, he watched her shaking her head and growling wrathfully a score of feet away.
But this time, before he dozed again, he tied a burning pine-knot to his right hand. His eyes were closed but few minutes when the burn of the flame on his flesh awakened him. For several hours he adhered to this programme. Every time he was thus awakened he drove back the wolves with flying brands, replenished the fire, and rearranged the pine-knot on his hand. All worked well, but there came a time when he fastened the pine-knot insecurely. As his eyes closed it fell away from his hand.
He dreamed. It seemed to him that he was in Fort McGurry. It was warm and comfortable, and he was playing cribbage with the Factor. Also, it seemed to him that the fort was besieged by wolves. They were howling at the very gates, and sometimes he and the Factor paused from the game to listen and laugh at the futile efforts of the wolves to get in. And then, so strange was the dream, there was a crash. The door was burst open. He could see the wolves flooding into the big living-room of the fort. They were leaping straight for him and the Factor. With the bursting open of the door, the noise of their howling had increased tremendously. This howling now bothered him. His dream was merging into something else - he knew not what; but through it all, following him, persisted the howling.
And then he awoke to find the howling real. There was a great snarling and yelping. The wolves were rushing him. They were all about him and upon him. The teeth of one had closed upon his arm. Instinctively he leaped into the fire, and as he leaped, he felt the sharp slash of teeth that tore through the flesh of his leg. Then began a fire fight. His stout mittens temporarily protected his hands, and he scooped live coals into the air in all directions, until the campfire took on the semblance of a volcano.
But it could not last long. His face was blistering in the heat, his eyebrows and lashes were singed off, and the heat was becoming unbearable to his feet. With a flaming brand in each hand, he sprang to the edge of the fire. The wolves had been driven back. On every side, wherever the live coals had fallen, the snow was sizzling, and every little while a retiring wolf, with wild leap and snort and snarl, announced that one such live coal had been stepped upon.
Flinging his brands at the nearest of his enemies, the man thrust his smouldering mittens into the snow and stamped about to cool his feet. His two dogs were missing, and he well knew that they had served as a course in the protracted meal which had begun days before with Fatty, the last course of which would likely be himself in the days to follow.
"You ain't got me yet!" he cried, savagely shaking his fist at the hungry beasts; and at the sound of his voice the whole circle was agitated, there was a general snarl, and the she-wolf slid up close to him across the snow and watched him with hungry wistfulness.
