Falling asleep.
Another lucid dream. This time two beautiful creatures, so alike they could be twins, brother and sister. Giggling, the girl stands in front of me. The boy stands behind me. Although, something’s different. Have they matured since last dream? The girl who looked like barely into her teenage years now has matured into a voluptuous woman. No longer with flat chest but beautiful large breasts covered in droplets of cold water that make her pink nipples erect. I quickly turn towards the beautiful boy, or rather, handsome man, who now towers over me. His air of innocence gone, his delicate features, once mimicking a girl’s, have now become the chiseled features of a stunning man.
As I stare at his muscled arms, he presses forcefully his hands against my hips and turns me around, pushing my shoulders so that I fall on my knees. I would have complained had I not being too distracted by the bouncing breasts that were now staring me in the face, begging to be kissed. While I lick the woman’s nipples, her brother kneels behind me. He slides one arm around my chest, and softly presses his lips against my neck. His kiss electrifies me. I imagine I would have felt the same had I been bitten by an electric eel! I lose myself in the midst of so much erotic pleasure, falling into such stupor that I lose my balance. The boy’s arms grab me. While he holds me, his sister starts kissing my neck, next my nipples and then my stomach, further moving down without stopping. Her brother moves in to join in again. I fought against having an orgasm and waking up before I could feel both of their lips on me. No luck. As I erupt into an orgasm, the waterfall erupts into a geyser, leaving me covered in salty sweat, uncomfortably wet, and, unfortunately, awake.
Sun rises, though the moon refuses to go sleep. I should finish reading my mail before walking back to the sciences laboratory. Oddly enough, I got another letter from an Arkham inhabitant.
Dear Professor Riemann:
I have read with great interest your articles on what Professor Albert Einstein calls Riemannian geometry. I am impressed with how you have overthrown traditional concepts of Newtonian space. I dread getting to the point; but I have certain evidence that out of Riemannian space monstrous things have come into Arkham, MA and now live in its woods. They engage in some sort of mining activity. I have seen footprints, and of late have seen them nearer my own home. I also have overheard buzzing voices in the woods.
At one place I heard them so much that I took a phonograph there with a Dictaphone attachment and wax blank — and I shall try to arrange to have you hear the record I got. The things come from another planet, being able to live in interstellar space and fly through it on clumsy, powerful wings which have a way of resisting the ether but which are too poor at steering to be of much use in helping them about on earth.
Sir, I think that with our respective studies we can be very useful to each other. I should warn you that they like to take away men of learning once in a while, to keep informed on the state of things in the human world. THEY MAY WANT TO KIDNAP YOU. Nevertheless, I think you will find any risks worth running for the sake of knowledge. Hoping that I am not bothering you unduly, and that you will decide to get in touch with me rather than throw this letter into the waste basket as a madman’s raving, I am
Well. Mr. Akeley, Herr Einstein just got rid of the ether; his theory of relativity proved the ether exists only in Fairyland. So unfortunately I must throw your letter into the waste-basket with your fellow Arkhamite. Time to go to the laboratory.
Wait.
There may be a hidden connection between the ridges of a phonograph, and sound waves in space. Just as we etch ridges in a record, we etch vibrations in air and we etch numbers in time and space, that is, when we count one, two, and three and so on. We etch patterns towards infinity.
Say we approach geometrically the spatially extended spectrum of sound and light waves. We would have a multidimensional representation of Newton’s rainbow, the one he created by filtering light through his prism. Could I filter sound? Newton’s arch nemesis and co-inventor of the calculus, Gottfried Leibniz, once wrote that music can be mathematically described as the pleasure elicited in the mind by simple counting. Number, our translation of Greek arythmos, is nothing but rhythm.
Therefore…
Where are my lab notes? Oh, here.
Whenever we see, or hear, something pleasurable, new complexes of representations are constantly appearing and vanishing from our consciousness. We observe a constant activity of our psyche. Every activity depends upon something permanent, which is noticed as such on particular occasions (through memory) without exerting an enduring influence on phenomena. Pleasure fades.
Thus, something permanent enters our psyche continually (with every act of thought) which however exerts no influence on the world of phenomena. Every act of our psyche thus depends on something permanent, which enters with this act, but which in the same moment vanishes completely from the world of phenomena. Guided by this fact, I make the hypothesis that the universe is filled with a material, which constantly flows through the organic atoms and from there vanishes from the phenomenal world (the corporeal world). Both hypotheses can be replaced with one: in all organic atoms permanent material enters the psychical world from the corporeal.
I am falling asleep.
What if my seductive dream beings have a connection with sound wave energy as much as Mr. Akeley’s imaginary creatures have with his “mining” and “buzzing sounds?” I should remain lucid and investigate. We know testosterone levels are higher at night; that is why I succumb so easily to these creatures’ powers. I’ll masturbate before going to sleep in order to regain my strength. Still, I should remain naked so as to remain slightly aroused. Only when I am aroused do these creatures appear. Perhaps medieval monks were right, retention of semen attracts “demonic spirits,” not because they detect a virtuous monk but because, because why? Certainly my dreams’ fantastic beings are not demons from hell attracted to my celibate life. But what are they?
Falling asleep.
Lucid. In the midst of the foamy mist generated by the cascading water I glimpse both of beautiful beings. Just then, the steam turns cloudy and obscures them from my view. I see nothing but white! Ah… I may be blind but I can feel their pale fingers touching my face, my lips. I try to do the same but almost stumble upon them. My hands find their soft cheeks, their lips. Still blind, my own lips find theirs, three faces kissing each other until one of them, the woman’s, says…
“Something’s different!”
Her face frowns, the cloud disperses.
“Yes,” says her brother. He adds, ”There is not enough energetic material in the human’s body.”
I respond looking at each in turn. “Of course there’s something different. I now know who you are. At first I didn’t believe it, dismissing it as some crazy idea from a lunatic from Arkham, MA. But it’s all there! Your whispering voices, the phonograph, the sound waves, the mining of energy. The lunatic erred only when he imagined things such as monstrous wings.”
Immediately both smile and a monstrous metamorphosis begins. The pale red of their lips and cheeks spreads, flushing their entire bodies and beyond, stretching their flesh into pinkish membranous wings. The vibrations generated by their wings, intensified by those of their buzzing whispers, energize the air. Both beings start floating in the heated atmosphere as if they were still in the water. Now I see two ageless, pale white-gray-pinkish things that remind me of something existing in a spectrum between the insects I keep in the sciences laboratory entomology cabinets and the fungi I keep in the biology refrigerators. Their stretching skin resembles fermenting yeast; their vast pairs of articulated wings mimic the articulated appendages of a giant wasp or some sort of huge albino bat. Whatever growth has obliterated their faces now sprouts multitudes of very short inward antennae and long outward feelers, feelers reaching towards me.