30 March 2007

Space Station. Vogue. Alien.

This dream is more vague than others, because I initially forgot it.

I lived on a space station. It was more Star-Trek than B5, very civilian and luxuriant. I had a booming business as a sort of Gothic stylist with an ethereal form that hovered around me I used to communicate my latest ideas on vogue fashion and behavior to a woman celebrity.

At some point, we fell out, and then it somehow became a story about the space station commander letting earth wither because of some sort of environmental disaster. A semi-omnipotent alien, with its superior "magic" technology, enforced its will, and then on the communicator screen expressed its reasoning. It felt that places like Earth were far too rare and interesting to get obliterated because of human apathy/incompetence.

The alien communicated by sharing experiences telepathically, so I could see the vastness of the universe and the rarity of earth-like planets, all of which were unique, as well as sense the alien's boredom or loneliness toward the stretches of uninhabited space. I could also get a sense of the alien's omniscience, in how it was able to regard all of earth at once, but at the same time explore earth's tiniest nuances and the alien's intrigue and feelings of aspirations toward the advancement of culture.

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