Coding with J: I'm with my Uncle J in a covered parking lot area outside a Barnes and Noble bookstore. He's praising me for finishing a new fantasy book I had just bought. He hands me a new red book. It has instructions for learning to code using the 'X' social platform. The pages have colored-coded code with brackets and guides. I remember that I read up to page 5. The pages have moving images, so it isn't strictly print. It claims that all kinds of media can be coded into the platform. Learning to code on X.
Updated 02-01-2024 at 08:36 PM by 99808
I was in some sort of store, climbing around on the shelves. There were some people racing life sized model cars around a track, so I jumped on to see if the cars'd stop. They didn't so I Jumped off and looked behind me where a bomb went off. I was walking through the parking lot in the middle of the night, someones following me. I clutch the possum I'm carrying closer to my body. I get to the car and set it down in the back seat, my follower gets close to me and we start some conversation while the possum which I thought was dead convulses. I was in my backyard also in the middle of the night. I used telekenisis to pick myself up, it worked for a few seconds, then I fell back to the ground. I picked myself up again, when I slipped out of my telekenitic butter fingers again I managed to catch myself and lift myself up, but I was at a wierd angle and everything was going black for some reason. [COLOR="#EE82EE"]I felt my body in my bed and wondered how the hell I didn't become lucid while I scribbled everything down. rcs-0.5 fragments-1 nld-1 total-2.5 compo total-72[/COLOR]
Riding the Mountains I'm in a parking lot, leaving a grocery store. It's day. There is a man in his car parked nearby talking on the phone. He's arguing with someone about the price of apples. I remember working hard to get the math right in my head, but it comes slowly. He says that there are six apples with six servings at six dollars each divided by twelve, or something similar. ... It's night now and I'm approaching my car. The building has changed from a grocery store to something that reminds me of my Dad's friend's home remodeling business. I enter my car and start it up. I see my Dad outside the car he says "The weather here could be storming or worse, and it doesn't even phase you! You've got your windows down all the time!" I remember thinking something along the lines of "It's really hot where I live, storms aren't exactly an issue" but I don't think I replied. I start to drive away, but I have problems actually leaving the parking lot. I can't seem to orient the car to face the proper direction. I drive down a path leading behind the building to try and find a place to turn around. I do find one and finally re-orient the car. I have to nick the side of my car on a nearby electrical box to achieve this. Now I'm progressing along the path I came, but it is different. It goes up where it didn't before into a mountainous region. There is rocky tan-colored mud that is causing the car to slip and slide. It starts to cake onto my car. My perspective zooms out, and I'm watching my car go through crazy jumps and maneuvers through the mountains. The car eventually crashes and flips, so I am sent back to the beginning. It repeats the course but lands on its wheels this time. My perspective shifts again. Now's I'm standing, and the car is a toy that I can pick up. I do so and walk the rest of the way up the red rocks on the mountain. My Dad is at the top laying in a bed. He is surprised that I made it up here. The room we are in reminds me of the sky room from the bottom of the narrow concrete hole from the Game Grumps dream on 9/2/23. Recorded at 4:55AM, just after sleep cycle 4. Dancing in the Store It's my birthday, and we are in my childhood bedroom. I'm on the far end of the room (If you turn right as you enter and go all the way). There is an electrical outlet and it has a bunch of game system minis daisy-chained together with USB wires and ports. I can recall at least a PlayStation 2, but there were more of them. My brother and my friend D are on the other side of the room. A third person at the party is setting up some game for us to watch him play. He has two tablets, the second one folds and is acting as a keyboard for a laptop, while the top tablet is the screen. There are some pillows and armchair-pillows on the floor and we are all settling in to watch him play whatever this game is. ... The room now resembles my Grandma P's sitting den. I'm laying on the floor and I'm the last one up. We are driving to the store to get a cake. I get up to join the rest of the group in the car. ... I'm in a big white van, the one we just road-tripped on to go to Denver a few weeks ago in waking life. I'm opening the side door, and asking the driver to slow down so I can close it easily. The driver ignores that request, so I jump out and try to slam it shut as best I can as I jump. I land in the grass in a neighborhood. It's a sunny day. I walk past a man having a yard-sale. He has a bunch of tables he is trying to sell. As I walk by he says "Hey there! Whaddya think?!" I tell him "They look great! But I'm not in the market." He accepts this answer but seems a little disappointed. I keep walking and enter another open garage. I feel a bit guilty at first for invading, but then I realize that the building is kitted-out to be a store anyway. There are shoes covering the walls with tiny labels with prices on them. I'm not lucid, but I decide that I want to find a cute girl and dance with her. I start to clear out an area at the back of the store, moving TVs, chairs, and other furniture. As I do this, a mousey-looking girl with glasses shows up and starts to watch me. I realize she is watching, so I make a show about lifting the heavy things easily, and throwing them such that they flip and land right-side up. When I'm done, I tell here "We're going to dance!" and she agrees. While I don't know anything about dancing in waking life, apparently dream-me knows at least the basics. We dance for a while, and then the girl decides to reward me by getting on her knees. Nice. ... The store has changed into a work area. There are some tables with PC setups on them, similar to a computer lab. There's not enough room to comfortably place my legs. I'm working at my designated spot, but I sneak to a nearby one that I like better. ... Later on the tables are gone but there is a long-table in the center of the room. It now resembles more of a conference room than a computer lab. There is a TV on the wall everyone is watching. Some major news is happening. Feels like a 9/11 scale event. Former President George W. Bush is at the table among the group. A little girl at the table says "Why can't we just call all the Presidents dumb?" George W. Bush replies "Well, there used to be less of them, and now there are more and they are all stupid!" Which doesn't make sense, but the spirit of what he's saying is that things were better under him, of course. Recorded at 6:39AM, just after sleep cycle 5.
Updated 09-07-2023 at 05:16 PM by 99808
Sunday morning, 12 March 2023. Dream #: 20,537-01. 2 minutes and 30 seconds to read. Somatosensory Foundation: This dream, originating from typical REM sleep dynamics, results in a narrative enforcing my somatosensory response (imagining purposeful tactility) and potential real-world hand mobility because of my current status of REM atonia, a causality factor for dreams in the fourth quarter of my sleep cycle. It is so specific the physiological pattern and timing match tens of thousands of previous dreaming experiences over nearly 60 years. The presence of ice has a double meaning here. Ice corresponds with my intuitive perception of REM atonia nuances (while ice melting anticipates achieving wakefulness and real-world mobility), while I also sometimes imagine ice when there is too much real-world heat while sleeping. The setting is a parking lot on Copeland Avenue in La Crosse (a city I have not lived in since 1994). It is late morning. My job is to scrape ice off the edge of an elevated curb. The ice is only on the vertex of the top edge of one side of the low-set platform. The vividness is astounding, beautiful, and peaceful. For about 20 minutes, I happily scrape all the ice off, feeling satisfied, but I wonder if any of it will form again before I receive my payment. More Correspondence with the Usual Sleep Dynamics: A parking lot is what I imagine, define, and create to enhance a mode of liminality, a specific level of dream state awareness. As in real-world correlation, it represents temporary immobility but with a potential transition from one place to another (here, from the dream state to viable wakefulness). This fundamental dream motif has remained a regular feature since early childhood, typically as the final scene of a sleep cycle. The concrete platform is about the size and height of a bed - with the vertex of the curb being the top edge of one side of the “concrete bed.” I sometimes shift a blanket remaining atop it, recognizing its role in my sleep navigation. Protoconsciousness Personified as a Celebrity: After I finish my work, I watch George C. Scott, the actor, approaching a nearby building (walking from the road). The building is farther from the avenue than I am. It seems to be his office for the management of a nearby warehouse. He sees me but does not mention my payment and enters the building. I am unconcerned about my payment or even if I receive it. I “walk with intent” to the road. However, George C. Scott comes out to give me a check when he sees I am leaving. Proto-Cognizant Staging: I look at the check and read its details as I walk. It is for 20 dollars. There is handwriting featuring “20 Copeland Avenue,” “La Crosse,” and “G. Scott” as a signature. I plan on asking Zsuzsanna if George C. Scott owns a business here. (Zsuzsanna has never been to America, as I often remind readers.) I am intrigued but consider it may have been someone who only looked like him. Inexplicable Transpersonal Link to Zsuzsanna: Zsuzsanna was awake and reading about Emmet Brown’s “Great Scott” exclamations. There was no way I could have known this other than a typical transpersonal link - which is how I learned she was a real-world person (on the other side of the planet from me long before we met in waking life). These links (NOT because of the dream state, as some people pretend - as dreams distort the link as they do everything else) regularly occur when one of us is awake and the other asleep. However, it also happens (with different dynamics) when we are both awake or asleep.
Updated 03-12-2023 at 09:16 AM by 1390
non-dream dream semi-lucid lucid FA / AP Driving near my home, on the street perpendicular to the one with cat colony, and I spot an airplane flying very very low in circles. At some point I am sure it will crash. It is flying on its side and one wing hits an old stone wall on the edge of a plot of land. Miraculously, the plane doesn't crash right away and the pilot manages to straigthen it up and land on the narrow road besides it. But the airplane is all crumbled and broken. Some populars gather around to see and comment the situation but nothing agressive. Still, the pilot, who comes out unharmed, feels attacked and starts shouting and insulting everyone and telling them to go away. Somehow in the middle of this crowd I meet a time traveller. A guy tells me he invented time travelling and it's fine to go back and even meet yourself. I tell him I want to go back to some moment in the past. We land at some day when I was a toddler and my parents left me at the care of my grandmother. We knock at her door pretending to be salespeople. Back then everything was so much more simple and people trusted each other, so she invites us in and shows her she is feeding her granddaughter grapes. As my colleague sits down to talk about the fake deal with my grandma, I ask if I can hold the baby and feed her. She allows and I sit at a table holding my chubby toddler self and I feed her grapes. But I find the grapes are way too big and I might choke on those, so I chew them into smaller pieces, but my baby me rejects those. I ask my grandma why she is rejecting since it is easier to eat and swallow and she says she probably just doesn't want anymore grapes and that she has some sweets for her now. She hands me down some type of cake that has a crunchy white outside and is filled with a yummi creamy brown interior loaded with nuts and almonds. Once again, I don't think it is appropriate to feed these to the baby, both for the sugar content and the nuts she can choke on, so I again bite smaller chunks to feed the baby and in the meanwhile, I eat most of it myself because it's really yummi. Back in the future, my new friend has his machine and a big white board with formulas and notes in some small garage owned by some other guy. Incredibly, this other guy doesn't believe he actually time travels, so he goes back just a little bit just to write something on the white board and we in the present see it magically appearing on it. The time traveller guy had also been to the future recently and checked that his friend will still be offering him shelter in his garage for years to come, so him believing in it or not is irrelevant, he just needs a low-key place to keep it discreetly away. Parking with Riverstone at a parking in front ot some buildings, I am approached by a little girl who looks like a gipsy in ragged clothes. She asks for something, I can't hear exactly what. I have nothing I can offer, but I tell her I will bring something next time. Then we go inside the building, and the house we're in is similar to my mother's. We sit on the bed of my mom's room watching tv. The kid returns and I invite her in, because I want to know more about her needs. She is amazed at all my dolls and plushies. First, I think about letting her chose which one she wants, but then I recall I have lot more others in storage that I don't like as much and I prefer donating. So I ask her where she lives so I can go there one day with gifts and she takes me downstairs and around the building to show an apartment tower just behind us. Some windows on like the second floor are open and I see a large family inside, some of them at the window. I tell her I'll give my phone number to her so she can call me but she says she already has my phone. I wonder how. I am taking a shower at some place I don't recognize, but feels like home. Someone comes inside the bathroom and because my shower curtains ar way too short and don't close well, I see it is my *** . I feel embarassed and focus on pulling the curtains to close them as much as possible, but he pushes them a little open so he can peek. I feel awful and angry and I tell him to stop. He feels entitled to do it and I don't understand. I want to run away, I grab towels and cover myself. Then I remember I am a fully grown adult now and I really don't have to put up with his shit. So I tell him that and threathen to beat his ass if he doesn't just disappear and leave me alone.
I’m in either a pool or hot tub with Melissa. According to its circular shape and small size, it’s a hot tub - I just can’t tell if the water’s hot or not. There are also no jets running. It seems like this hot tub is in a slight alcove and partially covered by a ceiling. We’re facing the rest of the patio; it’s empty save for one younger, blond woman. A teenaged looking girl comes over and asks if we’ll need towels. She seems behind schedule and like she’s doing the bare minimum. Melissa and I glance at each other and tell her no. She comes back in a moment with a roll of paper towels and sets them on the water. I hesitate and then grab them out. Melissa is now sitting close to me in the water and I’m touching her between her legs, under the bathing suit. She is fine with it until I start to go inside, after which she says ‘please stop.’ I’m outside somewhere with Julia and Jessica. The area looks maybe like an empty parking lot beside a park. The trees are flourishing and casting solid shadows to contrast with the golden sunlight. They’ve set up some games, I think as an event for Grassroots. The only one who shows up is a very genial black man and his son (around 7 years old?). One of these games involves a tiny ‘hoop’. I’ve taken it in my hand and inverted it. It feels more like a paper cup and now I worry about getting it back on right. Another looks like a tank on four wheels that can be towed. It’s filled with what looks like different colored cotton balls. I think the ‘hoop’ goes on top and then the object is to drop a marble/jelly bean? and follow it down. The little boy is now playing with multiple soccer balls.
I was trying my best to fall asleep but was having difficulty. What seems like hours of an eternity was met with many " I should have not did this at work " " Why did I work so hard for so little " " Where am I " My energy was gone but my mind couldn't drift to sleep. Then out of no where I could hear myself breathing. I look around and realize it was dark outside and thought it was just day light not too long ago. I began to panic because I needed to go to the bank and had things to do with in the day that was now lost. Disappointing but it started to dawn on me that it was unusual for it to be night. Where was my bed and why was I outside a car parking lot near a gas station? I then reach the conclusion that I must have fallen asleep. I celebrated by jumping in mid way in the air and knew that I didn't miss the errands I had to take care of on that day. I decided that I'll probably be asleep for awhile considering how exhausted I physically was. I wanted to check out the scenery and see if I knew anyone in the gas station. I went in and didn't recognize anyone there and made my way over to the counter to buy something. That's when I felt my lucidity growing weaker and thought to myself this is bad. I wanted to stay a bit longer on the dream but for some reason had trouble remembering techniques to stabilize the dream environment. I decided running to a different area of the environment would somehow change the outcome. I made my way over to another parking lot and felt better for only a second in till the dream became extremely shaky. I look around and could see everything disappearing in to white abyss. I said "No" and then my eyes was staring up at ceiling and could feel myself breathing shallow and went back to normal. I was awake.
Morning of October 15, 2020. Thursday. Dream #: 19,659-02. Reading time: 2 min 12 sec. My dream, in instinctual mode (but on the periphery of liminality throughout), transitions through the usual processes, but I carry a graphing calculator throughout my exploring and meandering. This aspect keeps my somatosensory dynamics vivid and sustains my overall clarity and perceptual awareness throughout most of my dream. I keep it in my right hand and enter numbers mostly with my thumb. In the main narrative, I walk through several areas of what seems to be a college campus in the late morning. I consider I am not supposed to be here, but I doubt anyone would notice or care. As I walk, I push random numbers on my calculator, which I consider some people might perceive as a cell phone. I do not look at the display and only vaguely think of random numbers to enter at different times. (It is mainly somatosensory focus holding me in the dream rather than cerebral. As I sleep, I sometimes habitually clasp the wooden slat of our bed’s headboard.) Eventually, I transition into the predictable “seeking the sleeper” mode. I find myself walking into the bedroom of an unknown person. As a result, associations with the physical immobility of my body (while sleeping) instinctually initiates. I cannot find a way to leave the room even though I had just walked in. The sleep personification resolves as an unfamiliar girl. She leaves her bed and talks to me. I tell her I have to find my house. She assumes I am a professor that should be living in the school and is puzzled by me calling the school a “house.” I tell her, “Well, I call where I live a house.” For a short time, I contemplate returning to deeper sleep. As a result, we walk to a staircase that leads down into a dark flooded basement. The girl briefly transitions into the Naiad simulacrum and talks about the process, but I decide to explore more. We continue to communicate as we find an exit from her bedroom that leads into the next predictable stage of dreaming, the parking lot setting. The sleep-wake personification appears as an unknown young male a foot taller than me. I consider if he will be a bully or remain friendly (especially as I am already in the last transition of the dreaming process, so he does not have to be imposing). My indecision creates a delayed and ambiguous behavior on his part as if he does not know how to act. He says something that comes out like gibberish. “What did you say?” I ask him. He does not seem rude or confrontational, but I still move on to the next process. I instinctually summon the process of attaining physical mobility (while still thumbing the calculator), that, of course, is imaginary while in the dream state (a fallacy that has occurred all my life when dreaming in this mode and is autosymbolic in co-occurrent continuity of the process rather than a false awakening). Although the man is not a bully, I mentally define, with engraved lines, the perimeter of a large square in the parking lot. As we watch, a Transformer robot begins to emerge until it is visible down to below its chest. In this analogy to moving into post-liminality, I walk on to the school building and soon wake.
Outside in a parking lot there is what looks like a small carnival/festival tent over some seating. The tent is very low, only a few feet off the ground, causing me to wonder what kind of effect that has on the spread of the virus. I see that it’s a Brewer’s Cabinet ‘information’ tent - it’s spelled out in small light bulbs. They are serving tasters and I think it, with it being dim and nice outside, would be fun. I go into the main building though; it has a mostly light wood interior. I pass through two vestibule type spaces, each only big enough for a person or two. The first has greetings written in various neon colors all over. I think there’s also a menu that I largely pass over. The second space has the beer menu taking up at least two walls and also written in neon colors. There are a few gold winning beers at the top. Each beer is labeled with who brewed it; at the very bottom, this includes even the janitorial staff. I wonder about how good those are. I notice mostly IPAs, but a fair selection of others. At this point, someone comes over to take my order. I’m still looking, so she recommends a brown ale that you then email the brewer with what it tastes like. (I think it’s supposed to ‘taste like poop’?) I tell her no, look for a tiny bit longer, then end up picking it, I think just because a brown sounds good anyway. They tell me its 8.8% and 8 something else, maybe the price? I’m outside with the beer now. I try it and it’s smooth, kind of light, chocolatey, and pretty good. The glass seems somewhat small. I ask a passing server if they have chicken tenders and he chuckles and says not really because they’re so dry. (I think of the ones I got once at Claim Jumpers). I think Melissa is here now, and we’re sitting. There is quite a bit of seating. We put up an umbrella that is pretty structurally unsound.
Pulling Sandspurs from a Wolf’s Fur Morning of May 2, 2020. Saturday. Dream #: 19,493-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min 30 sec. I am sitting on the floor in the living room of a unique variation of the Loomis Street house near the front door. An unfamiliar man is present to my right (closest to the door). I am stroking the fur of a wolf that is lying on his left side. For a time, everything is relaxing and uneventful. Somehow, I get sandspurs stuck on me, and they immediately form at least two lines on the wolf’s fur, closest to his back. I determine that they had come from an area on the carpeted floor to my left. I become annoyed, as now I have to pull each sandspur from the wolf’s fur. As I do this, I complain to the man that I had not been outside recently, so they could not have come from me. As a result of my sense of touch increasing exponentially for a few minutes and establishing a higher level of (somatosensory) cortical arousal, my dream processing changes to a scene where I look out at a parking lot setting from a doorway. A few unknown people are walking around, but a man with an unrealistically big head appears and dances about irritatingly. Using a combination of telekinesis and mentally willing more sandspurs into existence, I cover his body with sandspurs from more than ten feet away as I wake. Get the truth about my dream and some of its familiar causal factors here: My dream’s first scene is a unique but familiar form of a process that occurs at least once every sleep cycle. Often, the first discernible rendering is a result of my instinctual awareness I am dreaming. For example, the wolf is resting on his left side, co-occurrent with my sleeping orientation. The unknown man is to my right, co-occurrent with (in this case, subliminal) environmental monitoring (as my right side is more exposed to my real environment). Wolves, bears, lions, and most other kinds of animals still occur in my dreams regularly, often as an animal semblance of my reticular activating system as here. However, their nature typically correlates with the ultradian rhythm curve of my sleep cycle. (For example, I had this dream after sunrise, and wolves are nocturnal, and that is how I perceive them.) Despite my waking-life identity being absent from my dream, there are incidental compartmentalized associations with the coronavirus. (Even so, I have not yet had a dreaming experience with a viable recall of the pandemic. The processing factors of my dreams have not changed at all.) For example, although I have dreamt of cenchrus (sandspurs) before, they have vague visual similarity with the coronavirus. Removing sandspurs from the wolf’s fur also stems from a distortion of Zsuzsanna removing them from one of our cats (a typical synthesized distortion to prevent confusing dream content with waking life). A parking lot usually only occurs in the last scene of a dream in the last dream of a sleep cycle as liminality begins to increase during the waking transition, and it signifies the status of awareness between dream space and precursory waking space. One association is parked vehicles (the body being motionless in bed). In the real world, a parking lot also represents liminal space. The man with the big head is a liminal association with a YouTube video I saw yesterday, supposedly featuring a caricature of UK Prime Minister Boris Johnson in bed with the virus (with doctors and nurses dancing around) even though it was part of the 2012 Olympics opening ceremony. The character is “out of bed” in my dream as signifying me getting out of bed after waking. Ultimately, despite my dreams likely seeming surreal to the average person, they are almost always extraordinarily easy for me to decode and resolve.
I am in some convenience store, waiting for Makayla. I think she said she would be right back or something. She’s taking forever though, and even the Indian? clerk in here notices it. I watch as he rings up two Hispanic? men for a six pack. I think the beer is some bigger name brewery but a weird fruit flavor. I then think it might not be half bad, in a guilty pleasure kind of way. I think about how six packs don’t last that long. Tired of waiting, I talk out and to the right to go find her. It is pretty dark out. There is a covering over a few spaces in this lot. There is also a pool table, at which Makayla is lining up a shot. She seems me and keeps on smiling without a care in the world.
I am at work when a chubby blond lady abruptly asks me where something is (a movie, I think). I am slightly irritated because I am not even dressed like a sales associate. I go to look for her, opening a door by the emergency exit by the men’s shoes. It leads to a huge, depressed, concrete area with a ton of racks (or shelves?) The movie that she asked for starts with a letter close to the beginning of the alphabet, so I figure it will be easy to look for. I am now walking around the sales floor and notice that I am wearing a White Chapel band shirt. There is a graphic and the band name above it in a white and almost cursive font. It all seems faint or worn. I open the same door again and see that there are a lot less racks/shelves… until I notice that they are actually cars and the area is a parking lot. I think I walk into it with the associate Julie.
I pull into the parking lot of a shopping center that seems to be on a slight hill. This store - Walmart? - is at the top of the hill. It has a section of close parking and then more farther down. I take a left towards the closer lot even though it looks pretty full. Not that far in, I stop because I see one slanted spot open right before a backed-in truck. It looks like a man is unloading his family, but I’ve stopped at just the right distance to back in, so I do so. Inside the building, it looks more like a used book/record store. It is slightly dingy. There are bins scattered throughout without much reason as far as I can tell, so I start thumbing through a random one. There are about two employees talking to each other. The atmosphere is not exactly inviting. I know Scott works AP here and I wonder what the chances are that he’ll see me on camera. There is a separate room here, but it’s more of the same.
Morning of July 25, 2019. Thursday. Dream #: 19,211-02. Reading time (optimized): 2 min. I am in an unknown location watching a video of Ray Romano cheerfully shopping in public. He keeps making puns. He picks up a can of peas, places it near his left ear, and talks about “finding peace.” He picks up a pear and talks about “finding a pair, yet there is only one.” He picks up a comb, talking about his “parting.” He picks up a can of beans, mentioning something about not “spilling the beans.” He picks up a packet of tea bags, saying, “I found the T before you (U).” There are more puns I do not recall. Eventually, I am at the location with an unknown female who remains on my right. I try to recall what he said, writing it down on a sheet of paper. When I try to read what I wrote, some is gibberish, some scribbled out, some clear. I had gone back to the beginning of the event, except now it is “real” and not a recording. I meet Ray before he starts making his puns. I realize that I have altered the timeline by being present while he is shopping, as my presence redirects his attention. Still, I talk about the puns he will be making. I tell him about one he made about a diaper (and where it was in the store), but I cannot recall what he said. I explain to him that I am from the future. He repeats the pun about “finding peace” but not much else. Ray leaves. An unknown male is now present on my right, and I tell him I am from the year 7230. He doubts me. I lead him out to the parking lot to show him my evidence, and it seems to be the afternoon. On my left wrist is a watch with a dome atop it. Under the wristband, held by it, is a long scrap of thin cardboard with writing. The small dome contains images that I project as a life size monochrome hologram into the parking lot. We walk to it. There is a statue of a female angel or goddess (with wings) on a high structure. It is Nike. There is a holographic image of a 2018 Lamborghini. The male seems amazed as we approach the holographic dome. Soon, it becomes “real.” The car, now mostly blue, moves out on its own (with no driver). Everything now has color. There is also what looks like a Cessna cockpit. A dark-haired girl (about ten), who sits in the right seat, turns her head toward us to happily talk about the equipment and life in the future. (An unfamiliar woman on her left does not move or speak.) We walk through the mall. The male asks me about how people think in the future. I tell him people have minds that contain much knowledge in a “holographic matrix” that surrounds their brain (and location). He asks me about crime. I tell him that they eliminate criminals when found, without trial. I wake.
I am working, though this place does not look like work. It almost seems like something at the Legends, like a department store at the edge of a shopping mall and its large parking lot. Laynie and I are watching cameras when we notice an old lady stuffing jewelry into her purse in a deserted aisle. I think she is with 1-2 others, and they may be doing so also, but we only see the lady do it. We go out into the parking lot after her to stop her. She comes back, and now I’m alone with her in what looks like a large, empty fitting room stall. There’s a desk in here, on which are all the stolen items that were in her bag. There are about 3 to 4 boxes of different shapes and sizes. I am asking her questions and filling out paperwork, confidently. I ask things like why she did it and if she’s done it before. I feel in charge, but I am also being nice with her. I can’t really read her, but she seems to not care. *The following seem like fragments, but are probably part of this dream since the fitting room and parking lot seem the exact same. Laynie and I have gone out into the parking lot to stop a few teen girls. As soon as one sees me approach and try to talk to her, her face reddens and she turns hard to avoid me. They try to run from us as we yell that they could come with us or we could call the cops. I have brought a teen couple back into the fitting room with the desk. I am being funny and friendly but serious with them. They don’t seem to care that they’re in here. I have them turn over the stolen merchandise, and they start stripping off tons of clothes and concealed clothes. I’m almost impressed with how much they have - I think I tell them this. It seems like they do this almost professionally.
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