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About me and the site | Twenty-something male who likes text. Obsessed with things such as books, reality, communication, and one or two tv-shows.

Archives | Things written here since... well, 2001. Some of it is good, some is utter shait.

Books | Books read, not books written. So far I've struggled to maintain unpublished.

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e-mail | J. Nicklas Andersson

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2002-05-24

I had this really weird dream the other day.

It all began with a friend of mine — I don’t know who because I’ve never seen the bloke before, but I knew he was a friend — was about to get married on live tv. Damned if I can understand why, except that everything has to be done at tv nowadays. So I had to go there, as I’m far too polite to say no. (The last bit could actually have been true.)

I went there dressed in my normal clothes, pants and a t-shirt — all in dark grey. I sat down at a table as far as possible from the cameras. This table was cluttered with other strange beings, all from Unix-geeks to a guy with an umbrella on his head. After a while I couldn’t take it anymore and so I did what I usually does, I picked up a book and stared reading.

Soon I was to only one still there, as the other guests had left to do bugger all. Suddenly I overheard something. Two people, dressed as if they had stolen their clothes from a Schultz-comic strip, where talking about their plan of world domination and how one of them was an alien possessing the human like a raincoat.

I laughed as I had turned the page and there were a joke of some sort there. They looked at me and the alien jumped forth and put his had to my head in order to read my mind.

“He’s okay,” he said as I looked up at them. I tipped my head to the side, looking a bit as Ralph did in Simpsons when he glued his head to his shoulder (except for the hair cut).

“You know,” I said, “you’re not only bad at this villain deal, this whole plot is a direct rip off from Quicksilver.” They looked at me, and then they looked at each other. They shifted their gaze back at me again.

“Quicksilver? As in Neal Stephenson’s Quicksilver? The book is out?” They seemed to be surprised and a little bit bewildered, as if this alone had jeopardised their plan. This was also a soundtrack que: I began hearing a duet between Marvin Gaye and Toni Halliday (I want to own that song, I really do).

“Yes, since yesterday. What do you mean ‘the book is out’? You haven’t read it yet?” As soon as I had said those words, I woke up. The temptation of Quicksilver was too much to bear. On the whole, this was the worst anti-climax I’ve ever been part of.

(This was an actual dream. Why can’t I dream about normal stuff such as sharks large enough to eat Australia? But no, I have to dream about a bloody book that hasn’t been published yet. Oh, God. When will it be here?)