A weird dream

I’ve just thought… there are very little people who actually know me. Of course, there are cirriculum vitae, other dossiers, people easy can run search what I graduated, how I graduated, what honors achieved, what medals earned, where I have worked, what ranks I got. There are public combat records, some know me by them. Others hate me and try to humiliate me again from same records, for example, mentioning how I lost a carrier by a drive-by doomsday - I probably shouldn’t be telling that, but however awkward it was… it’s truth. And of course there are enemies, who, using the fact nobody knows me well, make up a lot of annoying nonsence about me, like if I would cut off people hands, fly dominix, be a provist, be a madwoman, have intercourse with an animal, rig a duel, and many other crap you probably heard on these forums. Not gonna list them all and discuss them, I just hope that you’re smart enough to not fall for all of these sick fantasies.

Ohh… and if you’re one of these trolls who wanna say “I am again talking about myself” - why the hell are you still in that topic? YES, it is about myself, now close it and get out of here.

Okay, so, whom am I? When I think about it, all I can say is… I am just a soldier of the State. But it doesn’t tell you much about my inner world. So I am going to share it with you.

You know how flimsy Gallente houses are? You saw news or watched gallente reels where a tornado just tears them apart, moves through them leaving just wreck piles behind? How easy they collapse under the wind? That always was making me laugh at them. And compare them with Caldari houses, solid, sturdy. If a hurricane will hit Caldari house, it could probably only break windows, provided they weren’t reinforced, and might possibly tear off the roof, if that roof was made not very well. I am talking about it, because it will be about a hurricane. No, not a ship. But a real hurricane, a mighty force of nature.

Tonight I had a dream.

I was standing on a shore of an ocean and saw it approaching. Enormous wall of wind, almost vertical, several kilometers wide, lifting up water and debris of broken piers and ships, dancing in a whirlwind of a death. The wind was getting stronger and rain was dropping hard, piercing clothes with heavy drops. It was roaring and approaching fast, consuming everything it was touching like a scylla, like unsatiable giant sea monster, coming at you with gaping maw of doom. The moving wall was grey with almost horizontal streaks. It could grab whole trees, tear them from the ground and rotate them, slowly lifting up high in the sky to the ominous rotating clouds. And so I ran.

There was just one place I could hide in - a tiny gallentean house. That stupid flimsy structure that could be torn apart so easily! It was made just of wood with straw roof, and without having anything else nearby, I had no choice but to hide inside from all the debris that was flying in the air like bullets. The hurricane was roaring outside, but it didn’t collapse the house, it pushed it, and this house began rolling through the field like a ball, and I was like a squirrel inside, jumping from floors, to walls, to ceiling. It didn’t last long and the roaring sound disappeared.

The house was laying on its wall when I walked outside. There was no more rain and wind, the sun was shining on wet from the rain grass, and the hurricane… No, it didn’t just disappear, it still was here, but just as an enormous gray disk in the sky, slowly growing smaller and smaller, into tiny funnel. I quickly climbed on top of this toppled house and reached it with my hand. This “hurricane” somehow was small grey funnel right above my head - and it felt incredibly cold inside. And then it poofed. But not completely - because it literally fell on my hands. It was a grey soft and warm pillow in a form of a star. I looked at it and put it on my head as a hat, “Yes, that’s right place for it.” And then I woke up.

Oh, and before all the cryptologists and conspirologists will start trying to build weird ideas and find hidden meaning of this, I’ll tell you - there’s none. It’s not just a story I’ve made up to tell you some sort of a moral, it’s just what it is: only a dream, a little silly product of subconsciousness, just a glimpse of what I “think about” when I am sleeping and not thinking about anything.

Hello. My name is Diana. Nice to meet you.


Haven’t flown Dominix maybe, but catalysts…


Sorry, couldn’t resist.


Maybe if you spent less time trying to imply your conjured power and authority over capsuleers who don’t recognize it, they would be less liable to laugh in your face and tell you to ■■■■ off.


I think its a warning in your dream, your subconsiousnes is warning you.

What if gallente have put that house there so people would see it as a refuge, but after emerging from it, people only get weird clothing ideas like putting pillows on their heads and calling them hats. Obvious sign of being gallentefied.

When the storm will came, you must keep your head high and face it. Dont run away to gallente or you will risk beig gallentefied.


I just find it really interesting that when you went to label the massive churning wall of wind, this powerful engine of unstoppable force, you didn’t associate it with any of the Caldari Winds, but rather reached into Gallente myth for the monster Scylla (which is a proper name, and so capitalized).

Otherwise, very nice, good to see you opening up a little.


Honestly, it’s just a little heart warming. And I mean that.

We all have our moments.

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And of course, a Hurricane is a Minmatar ship. So, I think that this dream means that Diana Kim is secretly Serpentis.

I’m glad to see anyone approaching the topic with any degree of seriousness.

Our active sleeping minds can be full of portent and foresight, but also of anxieties of the waking day made manifest. Our dreams are where these dual aspects of our minds do battle. It can be hard to divine what is useful from what is noise, but one should always make the attempt.

Many recountings of history, both in the vast Empire and far beyond, speak of dreams providing insights that cannot be explained. That said, doomed prophecy that comes to naught or ruin often find genesis in the dreams of one motivated individual inspired by those visions to lead. Do not repeat such tragedies in pursuit of an ethereal truth.

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If you have any dreams featuring screaming skulls, try and write down anything that you can hear them say.


Dreams can be the distillation of memory from one’s past lives. Perhaps the dream reveals not so much who you are, as who you were.

On my planet there are still people who live in traditional ways, in flimsy houses by the ancient volcano that slumbers by the sea. In the month of ramacandra, fierce winds buffet these houses, and cannot entirely be kept out.

Sometimes the winds tear the houses to pieces, and my people simply pick up and rebuild because they know, no matter how sturdily one builds, nothing lasts.


Wow that was deep man

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It actually depends where you build and from what. Theoretically building from solid rock can survive billions of years on some moon. Fortunately previous New Eden settlers left a lot of sturdy structures in space also. Thats why New Eden archeology is rather easy career to pursuit.

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The bit with the pillow hat is incredibly cute. Naturally you would only wear a pillow hat in a dream, but I could picture it so easily. And also the part where you set it there and probably nodded a little nod as you decided yes, that was the right place for it. <3


I think if you made an effort to socialize with people you’ve previously written off, at least a few of them would consider it.

Seriously, screaming skulls. If you have a dream where they appear, let me know what they said.

Are whispering skulls made of black tar-like substance any good? :stuck_out_tongue:

Only if you can clearly make out what they’re whispering.

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