kimurho

Sleep Journal
21 February 2019

A scream out of nightmare woke me.

A harpy shrilling shattering sleep.

Terror spiking, heart racing, lungs labouring. As though running a race I never could win.

I flailed. I fought.

I fell. ( Read more... )

Sleep Journal
7 February 2019

Sarah Farris

The fates were not kind. The ground did not rise up to swallow me. ( Read more... )

Even though the time stamp on this is a few days earlier than the previously posted entry, I assure you, this comes after. That's one of the reasons for the long delay - my subconscious was on strike until I sorted out the order. Another reason is that I needed to work out how rune magic works. Can't explain something unless you understand it.

~~*~~
Sleep Journal
22 January 2019

It was too early to expect Craig ... Dr. Stevenson to be in the office and I had an early lab anyway. I went home to change and grab a bite to eat first, then to campus for my class.

Despite the lack of sleep, I felt more alive than I have in a long time. Colours were brighter, sounds were sharper, scents more pungent.

It was almost mid-day before I got to the Parapsych office in the fourth floor of the Psych Building.

He wasn't there.

( Read more... )

Index of Sleep Journal entries on Fairge Anma"

Sleep Journal
20 January 2019

Dr. Stevenson's class was my last one for the day and, as luck would have it, I wasn't scheduled to work that night either.

Luck.

That's another of those words that I think I know but it's used differently here in the World. Here, it means exactly the same thing as chance. Here, what I know as luck, they call magic.

( Read more... )

Index of Entries
Sleep Journal
16 January 2019

Craig returned much more slowly, head down, checking the numbers. He'd tested the ambient electromagnetic field in both test rooms and the hall. He'd had Neil plug the wonky computer in and tested it for fluctuations. The results were inconclusive at best. Almost discouraging but it didn't really matter what the readings were for every separate part of the puzzle but how they all worked synergistically.

He made the effort to remind himself not to get too excited; at the moment it was just a theory. And Justine's theory at that.

( Read more... )

Index of Entries

Sleep Journal
14 January 2019

I headed for the library after leaving my classmates. I like libraries. Oases of quiet and calm. Fortresses of knowledge buttressed with the wisdom of ages.

Or the folly of sages.

I've always had to go over new information immediately to set it properly in my mind. While my memory is fresh, I can expand the notes I made in the moment. I can remember exactly what my preceptor said and how it was said. I can find the gaps still remaining in my understanding, and figure out how to find the answers.

( Read more... )

Index of Entries
Sleep Journal
12 January 2019

After leaving the Psychology Building so abruptly, I found myself on the grounds of St. Brigid's Church, some distance from University.

Holy ground.

It's where I go when I feel threatened. Or worried. Or afraid.

It's where I feel safe.

I don't have many friends ...

I don't have any friends here in the World. It wouldn't be safe - not for them and decidely not for me. So when I'm troubled, I come here and I lay all my problems at the feet of Naomh Bríd, St. Brigid.

( Read more... )

When I was very young, three or four years old, I did not want to take a nap and my mother was too frayed to handle it so my dad did. I remember that he told me to lie in bed and tell myself a story and I could get up after five minutes.

Naturally, I fell asleep. I started telling myself stories at night in bed to fall asleep after that and did for ... well decades, until recently (past 5 or 10 years). It's harder now to visualize the stories and the effort is waking my brain making it harder to fall asleep.

Then I found out that if I write the stories down ... physically, pen to paper ... just before turning the lights out, I fall asleep more easily.

I don't know where this snippet will go. I don't know if it will be complete. But this is what I wrote last night (finally keyboarded into a doc file).

Index of Entries

{Re-imagining fic Fairge Anma}

I should not have signed up for that class. I knew it as soon as I got the new semester schedule. No. I knew it when I put the request into the system. So why did I?

Parapsychology. Ghostbusting 101, that's what the other students called it. A study of the lingering superstitions of modern society. Telepathy, precognition, clairvoyance, psychokinesis, synchronicity, reincarnation, "apparitional experiences", and so forth.

It had been six years. I was safe. I was keeping to safe subjects. The sciences. Math, chemistry, physics. Not so much biology; that was a little too close to what I had been. That was where he'd expect to find me, I thought. In the soft arts; healing, growing, helping. I was only a few credits away from my degree - chemistry, analytical chemistry. I had considered a physics degree; that would be even further from my early training; but I needed to think about careers and jobs.

Then my academic advisor informed me that I needed to take something in the psych department, a requirement for graduation. He suggested Child Psychology - because, he said, I would need it in another couple of years. Or maybe Human Sexuality. I didn't like the look he gave me then. The only other course on offer was Parapsych. He had some cutting observations about that subject.

The stones were cast.

( Read more... )