A Robot Dream

Last night I dreamed of robots; big, huge, slightly abstract impressionist robots made out of lattices of material; huge, primary-colored lattices of stuff. They were fighting. Laser blasts. Projectiles — more of this primary colored lattice-stuff. They were shouting at one another in weird, digitizal-static voices that sounded like a parody of the voices of human beings.

I took cover, but while I was safe from the laser blasts and projectiles, those voices were inescapable. I listened, trying to figure out what they were saying, but it was no use. It soon became apparent that they were exchanging way more data by this bizarre voice protocol than I could pick out: I could just barely detect structure in the static of their shrieks.

Woke to some idiot with a hammer banging nails into the walls of the place downstairs. Pounding nails for an hour. Too little sleep. Ah well…

I’m not one for interpreting dreams, but…

Well, this was likely just a side-effect of the kicking-in of a new medication I’m on for the short term. No, not a psychoactive medication. I’ll put it this way: I’m starting to wonder if I just have undiagnosed (and mild) bladder stones or something. The Indonesian doctor I’m seeing is handling it wonderfully, and even has a funny sense of humor, of sorts. After prescribing me medications and explaining how we’d confirm the diagnosis I received in Korea, he also made one more prescription: he told me I should marry, because “it’s good for health.” I’m not sure whether he’s talking about regular fllushing of the prostate, or the wider health benefits, but anyway, it was amusing at the time.

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