Angelic Eye for the Gendered-Species Individual

10:35: living in my brain
It would appear that if I am going to have dreams in which many of my friends and a number of my work colleagues and I are clearing out the toy and random stuff shelves of a large Salvation Army-type store, and we get an initial five minutes to pick the things we want to keep to play with before we have to do the moving stuff out, I will find something that needs a battery, I will go over to the corner of the store where all the batteries live, which will be the one dhole has chosen to take care of; in order for me to obtain a battery we will have to collaboratively come up with an RPG-type scenario in which a brave young battery is being set out into the world by the Battery Kingdom, with dialogue which all has to be sung as operatically as I can manage (not very); and this will all take so long and be so engrossing that by the time we are done the rest of the store will be all cleared out, and my ambitious plans for the adventures of the brave young battery establishing diplomatic relations with all the other toys and random junk will get replaced by a meditative equivalent of Quiet Earth type post-apocalyptic pastoral with the brave young battery wandering over empty shelves and mulling on how so much has passed.

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