Oh yea, the dream I was originally going to write about this morning.
Dreamt there was a book and pen in front of me, along with an appropriately creepy voice telling me to open the book and write.
I started asking what I was supposed to write, but the creepy voice just kept repeating the command. “Open the book and write.”
Finally I got fed up and asked if this was one of those automatic writing sessions I keep hearing all the cool kids doing nowadays.
“Yes. Exactly. Open the book and write.”
I refused.
“So let me get this straight. I’m supposed to just unplug my consciousness, without preparation, without protection and/or supervision, and just allow the first spirit that takes advantage of my intentional vulnerability to insert words in my head?”
“Yes. Exactly. Open the book and write.”
“Go fuck yourself. I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you are. I don’t have any context for what you want me to write. And I don’t have any way of vetting what you want me to write. You want a pen? I hear you can get a dozen for a buck at the dollar store.”
I walked away from the floating book and pen. The still appropriately creepy voice said, “Well done.”, and the dream ended there.