2008/03/20
This past Sunday we re-launched the Avid Community site. Since we were finally able to start the development of it about a month ago, we’ve had quite a hectic time. Sunday turned out to be a planned 3-5 hour launch cycle to a nearly 12 hour marathon. So, I grabbed a few photos, put them into animoto, and now present to you the following video:
2008/03/08
Night Dream is a bit of experimental writing I’m doing. I’m trying out a few ideas and basically throwing them up in story format. There is no pre-defined outline, so don’t expect anything special. In fact, expect to get confused. Feel free to take each entry on it’s own, or to run them all together. I will be using a numbering system (1.0, 1.1, …, 5.6, 5.7 etc) to keep these in “order” but again, expect no well-formed plotting.
Comments are always welcomed. As with everything on this site, content is covered under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Despite all the treatments, Devon always dreamed. And now, in the weightless hull of the ship, Devon knew that he would soon be dreaming again.
“Set?” crackled the voice over Devon’s mic implant; inaudibly bounding along his skull.
“Set. Roll now,” he spoke unfocused in the air.
“Rolling…hey Devon?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t dream.”
“Right…” Then an audible sigh.
Devon always thought about the darkness. Capital D in his mind. It wasn’t a metaphysical state, Devon knew, despite what every technician told him. It wasn’t some plane of physics the Scientific Authority recently discovered. It was an entity, a place, a consciousness all at once. So Devon gave it a Capital D.
He first felt the darkness on the slumber jump to Rembrance. Back when everything was ordered. Back when authority had control. Back when everything had a place, and stayed in that place. He was tunneling through space with his mom; a vacation for her to escape monotony of life and for him to escape the rigors of childhood.
Devon didn’t know what it was at first. He still doesn’t know for sure, but he feels it. It crept up on him, so slow he didn’t realize anything was there until it already started.
And then the nothing was everything. He thought he knew he was asleep; he thought he was in a bad dream. Suddenly he realized he was a different person, thinking different, like he knew more than he should. Details were all in his grasp, but if he tried to focus on any one thing he felt a pressure of agony build inside his head. From a spot in his brain he knew no person should ever know is there.
It freaked him out. Freaked him out so bad he couldn’t move. Couldn’t open his eyes. Move his arms. Hear. But he could shut off all his senses, slowly.
One by one he focused on them, and they stopped. He heard the blood rushing through his body. Knew the exact amount of liquid and the amount of pressure with each frantic gush, heard the mushy remains of the flight food squeeze into his intestines, and he thought “no” and then silence dropped over him.
