Blue_Opossum

Morning of October 30, 2014. Thursday.



In my dream, I am in a large (unknown building and unknown town) public room somewhere, seemingly some sort of library or library-like setting. I have torn two pages out of a large reference book - which does not seem to be an unapproved or destructive act for whatever reason. On one page is a longer list of data (somewhat like more detailed telephone listings and such) relating to several different otherwise unrelated things in about three grouped sections on the page, which I find somewhat curious. There is data about Sarasota (Florida), Brisbane, and some other listings related to my own life all on one page, which seems very conveniently coincidental (though it does not trigger lucidity). An older female (about ten years older than me or more) informs me about a need to pay a small fee for any more time I take in searching for more data but I tell her I have already found what I wanted, yet for some reason, put the two pages back and leave the book on a public counter. There is a vague idea about leaving the book complete for the benefit of others that use it.

A little later, she comes over near the center of the room and asks me about some work I did, apparently in 1979, which related to all the computer programs I supposedly wrote - up to and through that year (the unlikely year for home computers does not trigger lucidity either). She asks me if I think it will work on a modern system (meaning her computer at her private residence, it seems). She says that all my work is in a COM file (rather than an archive such as ZIP or ARC), called 79.COM, which does not sound right, because a COM file is an executable so more than one would need to be in an archive with the others. I reflect on the idea that everything everyone ever did on any computer, telephone, or even wrote on paper, and so on (possibly even including graffiti), is now stored in various files (by this federal government library or whatever it is) relating directly to the person’s identity. I do not see it as an affront; it just seems to be a curious fact and other members of the public may be here to recover data that they thought they had lost. I am thinking about the compatibility of the supposed work and if it will work on Windows 97 (as opposed to the fictional Windows 79 it was apparently written for). I begin to wonder about the correctness of the numbers and try to recall the nature of the executable files. The scenario seems to symbolize the memory of the individual and how such “data” is stored “forever” even when a person often does not remember it.