It's even better when
they dream about me.
I walked through the door (the room was still painted red) and sitting on my bed was
amul. But it wasn't Amul like I remember Amul. I remember a handsome, sultry man with a slow smile. This dream-Amul was cute, but not even close to my memory image. However, I was unsurprised to see him there as I felt him to be a good friend and not unusual to find him in my room.
Excerpt is from the journal of a woman I met at Frolic Con back in April, whose only ever known me IRL for three days. What's particularly interesting to me is that she's never even met (f)AD, and I don't even think she knew what the acronym stood for. A couple of friends told me that, one particularly boring day, they opened up separate windows with both my and (f)AD's live journals and tried reading them in chronological order.
That's really strange and cool, comforting and worrisome all at the same time.
( heavily amended )