It was brilliant, damn it.

Vaguely dystopian sci-fi with suspense and an intriguing plot. The setting was indeterminate, regarding time (I’d guess some point in the future, but no telling how far) and place (a city, probably American if it’s a nearish sort of future but could have been elsewhere, even another planet, we don’t know). The main characters had epic adventures and a believable, non-nauseating romance. The dialog was articulate and witty, snarky and heartfelt at all the right moments. It was so good, that when it ended, coming back to reality actually kind of hurt. I still wanted to know what happened next, or at least go back and watch it again.

But no dice– it was a dream.

It played like a movie. A really frakking awesome movie, that was bound to be a genre favorite, maybe even a “blockbuster”. I wish I remembered it well enough to actually make that movie, or perhaps write it out as a book, but like anything I’ve only watched once, I can only recall the basic gist (and I do mean basic), a line or two, and few “snapshot” images. You’d think, being that the writer, director, “cameraman”, and heck, all of the cast/characters, were, in fact, my brain, I’d be able to remember a little better what happened, or at least re-create something similar. But no.

That lovely film was created by my subconscious, who is apparently much more intelligent, creative, and accomplished than my conscious mind, and absolutely refuses to share its brilliance with its conscious counterpart, who could in turn share it with the world…

…’cause my subconscious is a bitch about intellectual property rights.