Dreams
I am a virus, floating in a stream of signals which glow as they zip by at different speeds. What am I looking for? I know it is here, somewhere... and like moisture I seep through a firewall into a library. Each book is changed as I attack them amd turn them into the generic "book", But every generic book is different, influenced by the book I was before this one. What is my mission? I am here to gain control of the reading of the world, of one particular book, and every time I open my eyes in this feverish haze in which I dream, I know I am one step closer, one little victory nearer to my target.

I am not sure what my target was tonight, but the journey stayed with me. Somehow my mind was more than flesh, and the ideas of Gibson, Stephenson and Dick mingled with my own desire of being connected. Waking up to only the senses of the flesh was almost sad, as I found myself once again isolated in my own body.