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Created Monday 20 September 2021

Got one LD to share from a few days ago. It took some effort, but it was more than worth it!

Dream 1 - Task of the Year 2021

The visuals were initially dim and slightly blurred. I was walking down a wilderness road during late dusk. Old train tracks intersected the dirt path several yards ahead. Further still, far into the horizon, flickered the vibrant, spinning lights of amusement park rides. At least two familiar figures were with me, though I didn't identify them.

It didn't take long to realize the dream state. I instantly launch myself skywards to begin the next TOTY. This time, I make sure to get my costume. I mutter a quick chant: "Through the Shadow Flames, I am FireFlyMan." It took three times to get results, upon which black fire roiled on my skin, leaving behind my appropriate gear (a black leather touring suit, gloves, etc.).

I look intently for the Superhero HQ, when the dream starts wavering into a black void. Wasn't easy to tell if I was awake or not. I wait patiently, looking for an opportunity. A minute later, a faint light appears. I force it closer, warping the scene.

Coming to, I find myself in the courtyard of a building complex, walls made of solid concrete blocks. Great ferns adorned much of the space, dampening a bright sun's beams. Looked kinda like a small college campus. Yet again, this wasn't a place that screamed "superhero", but oh well.

No one was in the immediate vicinity. I looked around, and stumble upon a white canvas canopy, splayed widely, yet supported by nothing but a single pole. I pass a wall by it, where I find a figure lurching behind a wall: a stout, haggard old woman, weather-worn dress and light hair frazzled under a rag flagrant signs of a destitute lifestyle. Still, I'd a mysterious sense she had a significant role in all this. And so, I asked her where I can sign up for the superhero team. She says nothing, but points back to the canopy. When I look back, I find a simple plastic stall waiting. I thanked her, and hurry there.

On the stall lay small forms, the fields asking for name, date, and signature. Using a nearby pen, I write as such, but before signing, I notice I put my real name. I glance back at that field, and see it actually asked for a "CoO" name, or "Character of Origin" name (whatever that's supposed to mean). Anyway, I crumpled the form, and got another one, only to see this wasn't the correct type. Worried, I sift through more, but couldn't find the correct form. Eventually, they became blank vertical-format cue cards. I grumbled "screw it", and decided to use that.

It's then I remembered I needed to finish an initiation. Suddenly, I heard both my brothers speaking over my shoulder, each pointing out other objects on the stall. I then spot a large ticket, bordered black with balloon and confetti patterns. A bunch of text was in the center, including a lot of disclaimers. Of that which wasn't the latter, I skimmed through. Said something like: "Congratulations... something something... thanks for joining... blah blah... ranks of heroes... yadda yadda... bring ticket... murmur... training starts at..." Those last words were confirmation enough: signing up was the initiation.

With that settled, I resumed writing. But, as it so happened, the pen ran out of ink. Frantically, I scrambled to get a mechanical pencil nearby. Simultaneously, one of my bros began poking me with such a device to annoy me. That, or to alert me of a line of people that were suddenly waiting behind me. The dream's way of creating a distraction, no doubt. I scribbled down my hero name, a random date, and my signature. Just when I thought I was done, my bro nitpicks me on that the date jotted down ended with "2011". I erase it, then write down another date, which happened to be 03/07/21. Good enough, I thought. I then smashed my form into a drop box nearby.

I take a long moment to reflect. Upon review, I figure I missed nothing. This gets me to celebrate with a tune. "I did it! I finished the initiation!", I sang petulantly.

By this point, the dream begins glaring. I hesitate to point the old lady out to my brothers. "Hey, I think there's more to her than meets the eye.", I murmur to them. It seemed my bros were uncertain of such. Before I could hear their full response, the dream collapses.

I had this dream about a month ago, but never wrote it down. I just remembered it today. It's 90% genuine, but some parts I had to fill in.
WARNING : IT IS VERY DISGUSTING.

I appear on a large boat (ship). I am a new worker on this boat. We are in a different time period. It seems a decade or two in the future. Society has collapsed and people are trying to survive. There is a lack of food in the world. The boat I'm on is going on a long journey. We are likely traveling across the ocean. It will be several months before we make contact with any land.

The ship is industrial. This is far from some luxury cruise; it's a working ship. One of the managers leads me down to the barracks underneath the deck. Upon walking down there, I notice a profound smell of sewage. It's not a normal sewage smell, it's more of a sweet swampy sewage smell. There's also a chemical smell on top of it that somewhat covers it up and makes it smell plasticy. To be more blunt, it's a really rotten smell. As I continue down the stairs, this wafting humidity keeps blasting me in the face. It's more humid than a sauna down there.

I get to the bottom of the stairs and enter the room. The room has bunk beds in one section (but a few additional beds added as an afterthought). In between some of the bunk beds are these large vent tubes. You know the kind of industrial PVC tube that comes out of the ground in industrial areas. The tubes are about 1 foot in diameter and bend down at the top to form a partial U shape. Jetting out of these tubes is fog that smells like I described - bad. The crazy thing is that these other workers have to sleep down there, right next to the sewage vents.

I meet some of the other workers. They are shirtless and dirty. They don't bother wearing any shirts because they get wet and dirty immediately. When I talk to them, they seem friendly and somewhat accustomed to the environment (although not completely). The metal floor is slimy and slippery. In some places there is sludge and sewage on the floor. They tell me to take off my shoes cause I won't be needing those. We all glide across the floor as we walk. They've gotten used to sliding to move apparently. I think to myself how much of a health hazard this place is, but it seems like we were all desperate and just had to make do with the situation.

The men teach me the purpose of this place and what my job was. This boat is a fully sustainable boat. Our waste goes into the container below this floor and it gets processed chemically. The sludge is then atomized and sprayed out the tubes. Underneath some of the tubes, you can see some small gardens growing out of the sludge. There is no sunlight or windows down there, but it just grows on it's own. It's mostly mushrooms and root vegetables that are growing, but there's also eggs growing on the ground.

They told me to go fetch a basket from the rack. There is a rack of baskets hanging that look like metal kitchen colanders. I was meant to go hunting for eggs and mushrooms in the sludge. I was then meant to clean them off and put them in the colander. I began doing my duties. Whenever I got close to the vent, I had to hold my breath and then run away to catch a breath.

Nobody really wanted to be there, but this is how we survived. We grew stuff, pooped and grew again. We could survive forever this way. I sensed we were going to be out at sea for a very long time.