Things to Run Away From Really Fast

07/20/10

I take invulnerability for granted.

I'm chasing after a kid on skis, speeding down a snow covered hill in Ixburg. Since when does Ixburg have hills, anyway?

When I get to the bottom, the kid is jumping onto the nose of a helicopter. The helicopter sways dangerously, the kid's weight moving it off balance. I'm the pilot now, trying to keep the machine on course.

I'm in my high school, in English with my eighth grade class. Our homeroom teacher says we have to get our heads in the game, as we'll be in grade twelve before we know it, and that'll be goddamn hard.

"Grade 12 was easy," I mutter.

A couple classmates look at me incredulously.

"Time travel." I shrug.

I go outside. I'm standing in the courtyard in front of the school when Mal Reynolds swoops in, shouting that we've lost Zoe - she's been kidnapped.

I call Zoe's cell, not really expecting her to pick up. The phone does get picked up, though, and I hear a male voice on the other end. We chat about kidnapping and hypothetical ways that everybody can get what they want, like our first mate back in one piece. We get along very well.

I tell Mal that he can land Serenity (the ship) on the top of the Ixburg apartment block. Wait, do my parents still live there? It's really hard for me to remember where in the timeline we are. I know that I'm dreaming, but it doesn't really register as important.

Walking along the top of the hill, I look at the horizon, and am surprised to realize that it's suddenly a lot lower. I'm walking along the cliff side of the Stawamus Chief, looking out over Squamish.

I happily run through what seems like a set freerunning route, making impossible jumps and pushing myself farther than I ever would in real life. I aim for a two-inch stick jutting up for the ground, try to land on the top -

Later, I poke around outside of a missile launch site. Some kind of shuttle is getting sent up into the air, and I'm informed via comlink that anyone outside is about to die a horrible and painful death. The countdown has already started.

I see two more people snooping around, both guys dressed in black. They seem clumsy and incompetent, and I wave at them when they finally notice me. They stalk towards me threateningly.

...three, two, one, lift off!

The air is filled with swirling shards of glass. White light burns down from above, refracted by the bloody glass and singeing the ground below.

The moment ends. The two thugs are a charred mass of bone, strewn about the untouched grass.

I wander down another hill, into an alley. I'm with a group of boys, and we've all joined up our bicycles into a chain that we've lit up with Christmas lights. Another bike speeds down the alley, lit up with neon, and I take a moment to appreciate how awesome it looks.

The boy at the front of the chain doesn't notice, though. He cuts off the neon-lit bike, and the rider crashes into the second and third bikes in the chain.

The four boys are swearing at each other, and the situation is about to escalate into violence. Calmly, I go over to the broken neon bike, and fix the chain and the broken cables. The owner notices that I'm touching his bike, and it distantly occurs to me that he might try to pick a fight with me next. I'm not worried.

The light sputters back into life.

Hills. Scare Factor: 2.

I wrote a couple interesting dreams in my handwritten journal this weekend. I'll make time to type them up sometime this week. I had a really vague string of lucid FAs, too.

ETA: "rocket launch, people die" was scribbled in the margins of my notebook. I can't believe I missed that. I bet it was exciting.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Teleporting is hard.

I'm standing by a river. The sky is bright blue, and the dry grass is long and yellow. I'm looking up at the sky, staring at an illusion that's some kind of sculpture, a clue into my quest during this dream. (This was a long and meandering dream, but I don't remember most of it.

I'm the producer for a play. It's going well, but during the middle of it, Harley Quinn and the Joker show up and start dancing. The crowd cheers, and I'm not sure if this is part of the play or if the characters actually showed up.

"Write as if it was my plan all along." - written in journal

There's a parkour club in Quickton. I tag along.

---

I'm Harry Potter, fighting Voldemort. He sends me into an alternate dimension, and I have to get back to my friends. There are death eaters in the buildings around us, raining down stunning spells as if they're snipers. "If you get hit seven times, you're dead," says my companion. I deliberately get hit by stunning spells, counting, and they send me back to the previous dream.

The windows are leaking. We have to stop it because the magic could get in. We're holding the building against Voldemort, but it's going to be destroyed soon anyway, so we do a quick job. Hermione staples stucco wire under the windows, and I use an air nailer to keep the frame in place. The way that I'm holding it in the dream would probably break my hand IWL.

I'm either Harry or Voldemort, fighting the other one. "Expelliarmus! Expelliarmus! Expelliarmus!" I shout, matching the other character spell for spell, effectively blocking them. I realize I'm probably Voldemort. "Avada Kedavra!" Seriously, these spells are kind of hard to remember.

---

One of Ben's friends, a guy my age, is pissed because I just told him off for something. He throws a few punches my way, but always misses. He attacks me in earnest, throwing punches hard and fast. I block them easily, redirecting them in circles. One punch hits me, but I barely feel it. The guy is getting more and more frustrated.

Finally, my brother pulls him off me, and we go rob a grocery store.

---

FA. I wake up in a house that resembles my rental in Squamish. Ben and my cousin Reg are in the basement. I look at my right hand and count my fingers. They're blurry, and my fourth and fifth fingers keep fading into one another. Weird. This doesn't feel like a dream. I try to remember a more dependable RC, and pinch my nose. I can still breathe, but shouldn't I be able to anyway? No, wait. I have my mouth closed. I really am dreaming. I wonder if the boys are gonna go all nightmarish on me.

I think back to my lucid goals. 1) Talk to a DC on a phone. 2) Find Hazel. 3) Teleport. I go to pick up the landline, but change my mind and grab my cell phone beside my bed. I call someone; I don't remember who. I talk to them and hang up. I type into my contacts for Hazel, but the number isn't there. I phone information, ask for Hazel. The woman on the other end tells me crabbily that there are a lot of Hazels in the world, which one do I want?

"The one from DreamViews, obviously."

"This number is not in service."

It's night outside. My mom is sitting in the car, apparently waiting for Ben. She has some weird emo-style haircut, and I'd be more weirded out if I didn't know this was a dream. I use telekinesis to lift up the fringe over her eye, checking for zombieness. Obviously, I'm not completely lucid. Ben leaves the house, catches a ride with my mom.

Reg is still here. I have my hand outstretched, focusing on wherever Hazel might be. I'm trying to draw myself there so I can teleport. I turn around briefly.

"How do I teleport?" I ask the DC.

"How the hell should I know?" asks Reg. He pauses and sighs, "Just... stay like that for a while. Until you wake up."

"Or it works?"

"Like hell."

The dream starts fading into different solid colours, and I wake up back in the Squamish-room.

I hand check again. Most of my fingers are missing. I pinch my nose. Still dreaming.

I go outside and there are a bunch of dogs on the porch. There are also a bunch of people talking about their pets.

Telephone, Take 2. Scare Factor: 2.

My dreams lately have been very fuzzy. Granted, if I remembered the entirety of this particular dream, I believe my head would explode.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

I'm the writer and the reader and the characters in the book all at once. "I finished reading the book," I tell someone, "And I was all 'I can't wait for the sequel!', but I still have to write the goddamn sequel myself and I have no idea what happens next!"

I flip over the book and look at the cover. It says, "Supernatural" at the top, above the actual title. Of course I'd be writing for a franchise, I grouse. I flip the book over again, and it's suddenly pages and pages of notes on loose-leaf paper.

Blue is Castiel and orange is someone else, a woman with an angel name. Lucifer? Samael? I'm planning a trip to Squamish by bus, but I haven't left Ixburg.

Also, notes from earlier in the night read, "You know, I actually am going to have to explain this Misha Collins obsession. I waffle on apparent evilness."

Hack Writers. Scare Factor: 2.

ETA: I have proof that Collins stalks his online stalkers. I'm very concerned.

Fragments: Snape writing a letter to Voldemort about how annoying Harry is, and how Voldemort probably should have chosen Neville as his arch-nemesis if he actually wanted to win.

Walking through a pathway in a zoo that is filled with snakes. I name cottonmouths, rattlesnakes, and coral snakes, which I peer at carefully, trying to decide if red touches yellow. I refuse to walk down the path while barefoot, because I like snakes, but I don't particularly want to die, thanks.

Running into Vicki from boxing; apparently she lives on the top floor of what might be my apartment building. It's an open dorm, so I recognize her while walking through, and consider waking her up. Or would that be creepy? She wakes up anyway.

End Fragments.

Alternate Squamish. I'm watching video footage from a couple years ago, when apparently the downtown was flooded with green and black clouds of swarming... things.

I'm walking through back alleys and crab-walking (crawling) over gravel, for some reason. I look over a fence and see two-police officers disappearing around a corner. Deja vu. I've been at this fence before. I think I had trouble climbing it, since the fall down one side seems so steep. I try the sequence again, jumping over multiple fences through a back yard. One is a metal railing that seems too tall, and I climb over it, disappointed at the interruption.

I get to the other side, and a woman interrupts. She asks if I have an appointment. I remember that I do. I follow the woman into the building and slip off my shoes. There are change rooms. I think I'm the main character from #59: Ghost Ship, Jade. I follow the person who I have an appointment with. She's a really hot girl whose strawberry-blonde hair is tied up into a ponytail. A few strands fall attractively over her face. We've met before. Apparently she's painting my nails? I'm calling her Elle.

When we walk outside, I'm wearing a spa-like fluffy housecoat. Elle has her hands on my shoulders, pushing me gently through the door. I look around, amazed. One of the mountains extends over this part of the town. The stone is made out of a glassy black rock, like obsidian or onyx. Water falls in torrents into the ocean around the peninsula, surrounding the area with a fine white mist. Behind me is an eastern style wooden building, complemented by the sleek metal and glass railings running around the deck.

I follow Elle over pathways leading back and away from the ocean. Everything is sunny and the effect is much less impressive. We go to sit down at a picnic table.

My character falls asleep on a bed inside the building.

Cut to a group of people back at the picnic table area, randomly deciding that my character is a werewolf, and she needs to die.

The real me is listening in, sitting a table away and reading a book. The book is describing everything that's happening. I have to wonder why I'm only identifying with the parts written in first person (Jade's part), rather than the parts written in third person that have Elle in them. I concentrate on reading the book and getting back into the story.

I wake up, back in the building, as Jade. I'm highly annoyed by the inevitable running that's about to occur.

Nail Polish. Scare Factor: 2.

I think this dream means I have a crush on my hairdresser.

I take out the one item of clothing in the washing machine that was, apparently, very important to wash separately. I throw in the rest of the clothes, consider using oxyclean, and wash on hot. When I go upstairs, I'm in my old apartment in Ixburg. The dishwasher is in front of the sink, so apparently I'm doing dishes as well.

***

I enter the building through the only set of doors that are open. Apparently it's not the entrance I'm supposed to use, though. I talk to a middle-aged woman with short red hair, who tells me off and gives me directions. I head past the stairs and onto a set of escalators. Presumably, these will take me to the elevators. I need to use the elevator because this is a really tall building that I've dreamed about before. Something about an orchestra.

***

I'm dreaming about university classes. A photo of me working on the project outside. There's a rack of clothing in the background, sitting just outside of the open door of a store. High quality clothes, a lot of black. All very feminine, though. I think I need to talk to my professor about something related to the project.

***

We're going on an impromptu trip, just because. Also, a national/provincial park in BC (which was also in another dream, which involved running and rock climbing) demands that we return the photos we took there. I tell my mom to make copies and send them, but to keep the originals. I'll take down the ones that I (did not) post to my online dream journal. The photos look remarkably similar to the ones I took in Squamish.


You will never take my pictures away. I will not allow it.

We were planning to go north to go skiing, but Castiel wants to go east because he's never been. We think we might not have time to get anywhere interesting on this road trip, but we go anyway. (I think we split into two groups. One goes west, one goes east.)

We're in Halifax. I'm thrilled, pointing out all of the imaginary landmarks that I see. My mom is driving through a strange version of downtown Halifax where all of the buildings are even closer together and the streets lead into each other in ways that they don't in real life. Also, running on the rooftops in dream!Halifax would be delightful.

There's a detour to my old apartment. We stop in to see my building manager. My mom wants to talk to him about something specific, but I'm just there to say hi, I guess. He now has a fancy glass office where the elevators used to be. He's talking on the phone right now, so I distract myself while we wait.

I overhear my mom talking about/pointing at camping equipment. I ask if we're going camping because that would be awesome but what are we going to use because we packed really light? I have a bookbag worth of clothes that might actually be carried in Amelia Pond's suitcase from the Eleventh Hour. Which is small.

I walk in to a huge tent that apparently has some of my old stuff in it. I don't recognize any of it, but rationalize that something mundane and forgettable, like the broom in the corner, could very well be mine.

When I walk out of the tent, my high school classmates are sitting on the lawn, drinking. Someone pours me a rum and coke. Matt regales me with a "when I was a bartender" story and teases me about the hangover I had yesterday. I'm a bit defensive, saying that I did pretty well for someone who rarely drinks.

I walk into an apartment on the first floor, waving to my old classmates as I go. I press along the wall near the thermostat, and a second room opens. I guess that this is a bedroom I left here. I set down my mini-suitcase, somewhat glad that I still have (outdoorsy) clothes here. Oh, and apparently I'm Batgirl.

***

This dream occurs frame by frame, manga style. Most of it is even in black and white. Ed is singing into a tape recorder about alchemy. There may even be text balloons. A caption says that alchemists are obsessed, and don't think of anything other than alchemy, ever. Alphonse wanders through, still armor, and wants to know what the hell is going on. Ed happily explains that he's recording a tape for their recently discovered grandmother. Alphonse is understandably disturbed.

Familiar Places. Scare Factor: 1. Reaction: I'm sure I've seen those places before.[/QUOTE]

I'm checking out a gym in the new city I've apparently moved to. It's based in a university/college/high school, and membership is affordable.

A group of (mostly female) students are being led around by their female teacher. Some of the girls need to use the bathroom, so the group is collectively looking for one. They're in subway tunnels now, and the teacher is talking to a bouncer outside some kind of establishment, who won't let them in because they're women or minors or both.

I'm talking to my brother, Ben, at some kind of family gathering on a farm, when he starts quoting The Spoony One verbatim while we're talking about a game. Movie. Book. IDEK. Anyway, I call him on it, but he has no idea what I'm talking about. My cousin Reg, who's the same age as my brother, says he got to see a screening of that once. They're online videos, I tell him. What the hell.

We're trying to watch The Daily Show, but Ben tells me that we can't watch the episode because it's only on the US version of the site. I explain to him how you can use an add-on for Firefox to - ahem. Never mind.

Running up the stairs at the farm.

Someone explains to me that the farm is in danger and we have this plot going on to save it. Jill rolls her eyes and tells me to run because I'll never hear the end of it.

"I'm dreaming." I realize at some point. I blink in surprise. "How am I lucid?" I wasn't planning on having any lucid dreams tonight.

I'm going for a quick meal in Tim Hortons, trying to decipher the menu and remember what I can eat. I really want some chicken noodle soup, but I can't eat it since I'm vegetarian. I could get a bagel, but I don't really want a bagel. When I step outside again, I continue with my dream. Apparently I'm a student in some Squamish/Halifax hybrid. There are mountains in the not-so-far-away distance, and one in particular is relevant to the plot. So are the houses I'm biking towards.

Unconscious Desires to Move to a New City. Again. Now. Scare Factor: 1.

I was going through some old dream journals and thought I'd type up a couple for reference. The first dream occurred shortly after I heard that my family had been in a minor car accident. Everyone was fine. Well, except for the wildlife involved.

August 2009

I'm rock climbing at the local crag (but in a different city) when I get the call. Mom hands the phone off to a grief counsellor or something. She tells me that my dad has passed away, but do I want to see my huge birthday cake? Hey, do I want to have the phone held up to the body's ear so I can talk to him? I'm watching the head get cut off of the body, presumably having to do with cremation. I close my eyes, nauseous.

Scrambling down a steep trail now, made of granite and overgrown with tree roots. I'm thrown into what seems like a very vivid memory on top of the dream I'm in. I'm a black man in South Africa, and I'm brandishing a knife, trying to fend off two men who attacked my wife.


Except with roots.

My dream-ego, still looking on from the first dream, hopes that I'm not going to hurt anyone.

My strike goes wide, and I injure my wife instead, watching with horror as her blood spills to the red ground. She's dead so, so quickly. Our local equivalent of a doctor appears, and she tries to slice my wife's body down from the roots that are binding her, thinking she might still be able to save her. She won't. Our son! Our son us still here. I take him and run.

Mortality. Scare Factor: 8. I remember chalking up this one as "The Nightmare of 2009".

I didn't remember the dream until I read about it though. It's not quite so scary when I remember "Dad's fine; I saw him yesterday."

Within the dream, the dream-within-the-dream was a memory of a previous life. It was so vivid, I practically felt the same way when I woke up.

Briefly, I'm Shawn Spencer from Psych. I check my backpack for water. I have a little over two bottles left. It's around 4PM. I decide to do the 3KM hike instead of the 5KM hike; I'll probably be back by 6PM and I'll get to the first peak of the Chief. The route is a combination of my running route here and the real hike in Squamish. I don't have a map with me, but I know the trail well enough.

Similar location, female form. I'm talking to either my Oma or my Aunt Audrey. They keep switching. I'm watching the fire. There's something flammable (fireworks, ammunition?) in one of the wooden containers being licked at by the flames.

I'm in a restaurant of a hotel with my mom and great grandma. Our tables are switched. I have a copy of a menu in my hand, and two spoons because I was holding one from the other table.

I'm (working) in an office building. I keep speaking to bosses higher-up. I think one of them looks familiar (might be Jameson from Spider-man movies).

I'm an American sniper in America and I'm being shot at. I'm with several other snipers at the top of a very tall tower surrounded by water surrounded by a city which might be San Francisco. I'm standing up, but I'm quickly pulled down by another man when I become aware of being in someone else's sights. A missile heads toward us on a crazy, spiralling course. It explodes over our heads.

Patrick and Spongebob's houses are split in half and combined with Squidward in the middle, freaking out. Flashback to Patrick and Squidward trying to play a practical joke on Spongebob. A stone statuette of a face embedded in rock.

Restaurants With Poor Customer Service. Also: Missiles. Scare Factor: 2.