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    1. Magicians, Merciless A.I., and the Other Thing

      by , 01-21-2019 at 05:55 PM
      I woke up several times so my recall is kinda effed up.

      We were on the run, but couldn't get very far from our enemy who was holed up in my childhood home in MA. One of my companions seemed like Penny from The Magicians, but he was skinny and strung out, and ended up being a huge self-serving coward. We ran alongside the railroad tracks and ducked into a narrow, two story waystation house with its sad, peeling exterior. From some angles I could see the front of the house, and from others it looked like a movie set. Penny crawled up to the second floor and found the smallest safest space to huddle in, between the nightstand and the wall. He's exhausted and looks awful. He has his knees up and his wrists atop them, hands hanging over. His hands are in really bad shape marked with raised bloody welts in a crosshatching pattern. There also appears to be maggots? I don't want to touch them, but feel like I have to.
      "Penny, we can't rest here long."
      "What's the point? They're just going to catch us."
      I want to ask him how his hands got this way. It's not just the wounds, they feel infected and contagious. Hesitantly, I take the tips of his ruined hand between my thumb and forefinger.
      "Listen to me. We just have to hold out a little longer, wait for the patrols to pass, then we'll be free to move." I reply.
      "My hands hurt so bad." He groans.
      "Don't worry, I'll find you something for them."

      I don't remember much else. Running? A view of my childhood home at night. I can barely see the outline of the house it's so dark, but the lights are on. I can't believe I escaped.

      Merciless A.I.
      I'm in a black room with a stainless steel gurney in the middle, and a single bright pendant light above it. There's a bald, spindly scientist in a white lab coat. He thought he made friends with the first A.I. but the being became...absently ruthless in its efforts to test its limits and prove that it could and would do anything. So, there we stand, in a loose circle around the table where the spindly scientist lays on his stomach. He's pleading with us that the A.I. just doesn't understand humans, that it can be good.
      Its voice drones out that if he doesn't follow its instructions, it will do impossible things to his body to prove the extent of its power.
      "I can make shit come out of your head." It says.
      We exchange uneasy glances, because that just isn't how the human body works.
      "You don't believe me. Joe. They don't believe me. Joe. I want you to say it."
      The A.I. wants some very important information, access to the mainframe which requires several passwords from different sources. The A.I. feels distant, like it's being controlled by something else. Like it doesn't really understand what it's doing. Another, lower voice, commands Joe to scream and it'll tell his 'friend' to let him go.
      Joe doesn't, and begins to writhe and his wrenches open in a silent scream as a hole appears in the top of his head. Brown liquid pours from the hole over his face, and then out of his mouth. Followed by a river of blood.
      Deeply disturbed, I ask Joe why he wouldn't scream for the Second A.I.
      Joe twitches and gasps wetly.
      "Because." His eyelids flutter and I know he's going to die. "I didn't want her to be afraid."
      Her. His A.I. friend. "She doesn't know what she's doing, not really." His voice fades to a whisper.
      And that's it. He's dead.

      The Other Thing
      The government granted my team permission to travel overseas to Asia, our leader is a bit of a conspiracy theorist and wants to prove that it isn't the WHOLE COUNTRY that hates us, and that parts would agree to trading with us again. We're at the embassy and not allowed to leave, and he keeps finding books that prove his point. They are tattered and damaged with holes in their stained pages, but it's from before the Shutdown.
      "SEE! THIS PROVES THEY LIKE US!!!!!" He's so enthusiastic that I don't want to bring him down, but a couple of books isn't exactly resounding evidence.
      The embassy is narrow and full of 70s-ish furniture with that awful wood veneer and burnt orange fabric. My friend Brittany (though a younger, more round cheeked version) is kneeling on the floor, leaning across a coffee table. I go over to help her with something. I haven't talked to her in months, I've missed her, and I'm glad she's in front of me now so I don't have to decide whether or not to text her. I find this version of her adorable and only just stop myself from pinching her cheek. Her boyfriend is on my side of the coffee table, he refuses to make eye contact and pretty much pretends I'm not there.

      Updated 01-21-2019 at 06:03 PM by 54746

    2. Dreaming of SP/Wedding/Run

      by , 01-02-2019 at 04:35 PM
      I'm posting from work and the music is so loud that it's fucking up my dream recall. I'm so annoyed right now.

      Anyway. I had trouble falling asleep. When I finally did, I belatedly realized that Sleep Paralysis had settled in. And by belatedly I mean...I was dreaming about having it again. I 'wake up' in suffocating, absolute darkness. It feels like velvet. Sounds are muted. I recognize the heaviness in my limbs as SP, everything feels so strange. I swing my legs over the side of the bed but have to fight the impossibly extreme weight of my body and my eyelids. I shuffle languidly to the front door. Prickly unease raises the hair on the back of my neck.
      Why is my bed in the living room?
      Why is there a 3ft privacy wall between my bed and the front door.
      I struggle to lift my arm to unlock the door but I can't figure out how it works.
      Why is this so hard?
      Maybe it isn't real...
      I feel blurry and thick as my head bows forward and I rest my head on the door. Lucidity shifts into place but I'm so heavy. I flounder under the pressure but try to focus my will and go through the solid door instead of trying to open it. It feels so strange. I instead escape upward into my actual bed, but only for a moment.

      My eyes drift shut and when I force them open, into that suffocating blackness.
      No no no I think, not wanting to be here in this weird dream with the door I can't open.
      I wake myself up and find I'm laying in my real life bed.
      My eyes are very heavy, so I close them.
      Right on the edge of sleep I hear a sharp, low buzz like a phone notification. It jars me upward a step. Was that my phone or my boyfriend's? I drift again and hear the buzzing sound twice more which I just realize it's part of the SP. I consider riding the wave down so I can have a lucid dream but SP Lucids at night are usually just nightmares for me, and this one feels off so, fighting the weight of my limbs again, I turn my head. It's enough to dispel the worst of the paralysis.

      This music is driving me nuts. I really can't think straight.

      The next part was about my sister's upcoming wedding. In the dream I go to the venue thinking we are just rehearsing but get an ugly shock when she tells me it's going to be in about an hour. It includes one wardrobe change for her, I'm supposed to walk in first, singing a song but she won't tell me what it is but insists that I know it? And that it's a very special song?
      I wander off a few steps, anxiously singing to myself. I haven't done much singing lately so my voice is too soft and I'm worried about it cracking. AAAAH ANXIETY!
      She's running through the whole thing quickly with the DJ who is also a priest, and tells us we should go check out the other room, because apparently after I sing, run back, and walk with her and the other bridesmaids, we're going to go on some sort of pageant walk to a second room where the reception is, followed by all the guests. I'm so confused.
      I need to get changed but I don't know where my dress is. I break away from the sanctuary so I can find it. My sister thinks it should be in the other room with the other bridesmaids dresses. I take of down the green carpeted hall, glancing into every open door. It's so hard to tell which one is ours, there's activity everywhere. When I find the room, at the end of the hall on the left, I experience a fresh new anxiety because the room isn't remotely red. It's dirty and green and workmen shift thick floor panels around, flipping them over to expose the underside. They assure me it'll be ready, I remain silent in my extreme doubt. This wedding is going to be an absolute train wreck.

      Somehow I end up outside. The parking lot is just an ugly field of churned mud and dead grass where all the cars are haphazardly parked. I forget what I'm looking for just remain confused and anxious for the duration of the dream.

      The next part is just a fragment. Something about waiting for my boyfriend to come home from a supply run, and how we took refuge in my childhood home. He left me here alone, saying that the other person who went out will be back soon and he'll make sure nothing happens to me.
      C also wants me to ask the other man something. Other Guy is always going out almost as soon as he comes back so I decide to wait in his room (next to the family room, what used to be my brother's room downstairs, and before that my dad's den). It's kind of cozy, there's a navy/scarlet/white woven blanket on the bed with red and blue sheets. I crawl onto the bed. I want to sleep but know the guy will be offended that someone else slept here.
    3. 2lbs of Ice Cream/Tricycle Woman

      by , 12-23-2018 at 06:29 PM
      I've followed my boyfriend C into a tiny restaurant, it has a single prep bar in the middle of the establishment and a second, separate room with tables. I have never been here but once I go inside I suddenly work there. I don't know where anything is, what we sell, or how they sell it. C is nowhere in sight. Of course.

      The restaurant has a garage door that takes up an entire wall, and they open to let it know they are ready to take business. But all the other workers are so placid and lacking urgency that it's hard to tell we're open. I go to help a woman who insists that she just wants 2lbs of ice cream. No one will listen to me, so I can't figure out where it is, and when I final see someone prepping the ice cream bar, I ask her if what's prepped is for my customer or someone else?? And she doesn't acknowledge me.
      All the other employees talk around me instead of to me. I start to scoop the weird oblong chocolate ice cream onto....a plate, when someone says "That's not even ready yet."
      "What do you mean?"
      They don't answer me. I set the plate down. She picks it up and scrapes all the ice cream from the plate and the bar onto a flat tray with some milk, sugar, and butter and mixes it all together. She sets it down on the counter and I weigh the ice cream...it's 1.7lbs, plus a literal ice cream sandwich? Some shavings of ice cream on a bun. And a super weird mashed potato and ham biscuit thing.
      I'm so confused, but I take it. It's they're 'standard plate' apparently. I take it to the woman and I try to ask if it's okay but she won't talk to me either, but also somehow makes me feel completely worthless.

      Finally the work day is over and we're all trying to leave at once in a tidal rush for the side exit. I feel like I should have asked more people what I should have been doing. Maybe tomorrow will be better. There's a tallish, pale man with a cap of black curls, and big black-brown eyes. He's wearing a navy blue sweater over a sky blue button up. As we're leaving he looks down at me. Right into my eyes. And I can tell he really really sees me. I'm not forgotten or invisible, or talked over. He offers me his hand in a casual gesture, and I take it, wondering what my boyfriend will think if he sees me holding hands with another man.
      But he's a hypocrite in these matters anyway. Should I care?
      The hand is comforting and the man only means to be companionable, he's not coming onto me.
      "It was a rough first day. Will you be back tomorrow?" He asks. I pull my hand free as we move out onto the patio, 7-8 other employees streaming past us.
      "I think so."
      "Good. See you then."

      He leaves me behind and I spot my boyfriend C across the way. He's a distant figure and doesn't appear to consider me directly, though he raises a hand to let me know he's seen me...he still gets in his truck and leaves.
      Which incites a dull sort of panic in me, because for a second I'm certain we rode here together. Did he just leave me to walk?
      No...that isn't right. I dimly remember parking.
      Where the fuck is the parking lot?

      Uncertain, I go down the stairs to the fine gravel driveway. It's long and hooks toward the highway. I get almost to the end when I see the lot, on the other side. So of course, now that I'm trying to cross, there are a bunch of cars turning into the driveway.
      Well. Not all of them are cars.
      Some people are on bikes.
      One woman is on a motorized tricycle? I only barely avoid her when I rush across the street, and she nearly hits another person on a bike...but she revs the tricycle, pops a wheelie and swerves out of the way.
      It's so unnecessary and bloody stupid that I can't stand it. All of this pisses me off.
      "Yeah, Karen! Rev your stupid tricycle, it's super intimidating!" I yell, disproportionately irate. Then I start laughing. It's so stupid that it strikes me as funny. I want to tell C about it so badly but he's not anywhere.
      I my heart sinks back to its regular place in the hollow of my stomach, sad and cautious, and I find my car.

      There's a lapse and I'm with C, I try to tell him about the funny thing that happened but he's not really listening, and when I tell the story again I know he doesn't believe I shouted at a stranger.

      I'm having an argument with Jess Day from New girl in a weird little kitchen. She's supposed to be me, and I'm supposed to be C.
      "Well yeah! that's how things would be if they were balanced! But they aren't, are they!" I snap.
      "What do you mean not balanced?!" She cries.
      "You really want me to bring this up here, in front of our FRIENDS? our TWO FRIENDS?" Who won't leave the fucking room.
      I move around to the far side of a tiny, oddly shapped island that has a cork bulletin board running down the center with all sorts of maps and notices pinned to it. K, someone I haven't seen in forever is loudly observing a map and trying to throw thumb tacks at the board to make them stick.

      I really want to get into it, so we can have a fight about something that bothers me, but the others won't leave the room and it's too personal to discuss in present company.
    4. (SP) Talking Cat, Blond Stranger

      by , 12-12-2017 at 05:21 AM
      I took a nap on the couch, and because my cat decided to sleep on my chest I (obviously) didn't want to roll on my side. I'm more likely to have SP when I sleep on my back. Anyway, the following SP dreams were super weird. My sister was visiting and trying to talk to me while also talking on the phone but I couldn't hear her because my cat was also talking to me in a high, human voice. The cat was complaining about something and asking for permission to do something and though I couldn't work out what she actually wanted, I was unsettled that she was speaking to me and so loudly that I couldn't hear my sister. I managed to reach up, sluggishly due to the SP, and grab the cat's face in both my hands, squeezing it in a playful gesture of frustration.

      Then, the rest is a mess of drifting where I never really managed to get all the way to sleep. Out of the corner of my eye I keep noticing a blond woman in a long white dress sitting on the edge of my coffee table. She is serene and motionless, ankles crossed, wavy blond hair tucked behind one ear, she's giving me a small small. Noticing her always startles me, and I can only see her from a few angles. Occasionally the room shifts and mirrors itself. In my new apartment I've draped a red blanket over the loft railing. In my mess of SP I kept seeing it on the opposite wall, over one of the wedge shaped window.
    5. Killing Spiders with an Axe!!!

      by , 10-03-2016 at 05:26 AM
      I'm in my apartment but it doesn't feel like home.
      It feels like I spent a lot of time somewhere else and returned here, finally, to all my things.
      I'm in the living room late at night, very few lights are on. A woman tells me that there are spiders but she has dealt with most of them. The only one left is in my room. I observe her from the other end of the hall. She opens a green container that she has caught the spider in. All in all, it is not a very large specimen, having maybe a 2 to 3 inch leg span. She shrieks when it leaps from the container onto a boxspring leaning against the wall, then she murders the spider with a woodcutting axe.
      I laugh a lot internally, thinking "Oh. Okay. That was a bit excessive."
      I wander around the once familiar, now foreign, apartment. I want to sleep but I know there are spiders and I know I won't sleep soundly with them crawling around.

      There's a lapse and I find myself viewing a new apartment that is supposed to be better. Yet it is cramped and oddly shaped. Many of the fixtures are broken and there is water everywhere. I'm with a co-worker who used to be my manager. He tries to convince me this place is better, that I'll finally have a real landlord, but I don't quite believe him. It is rundown and leaky and falling to pieces. I remember walking into a wedge shaped bathroom, so narrow that I could hardly fit between the vanity and the wall, the vanity top was chipping, marbled blue-green. When I looked around the apartment I saw all the countertops were that same color, along with one concrete room with a round concrete tub at its center.

      Updated 10-03-2016 at 05:33 AM by 54746

    6. Parallel Universe, Witch, Seer

      by , 10-01-2016 at 10:38 AM
      I dreamt that the science branch of the government sent a team of witches (men and women, both) to alternate universes to combat a dimension hopping entity called the Hunger. They were advised to only keep company within their group, as consorting with strangers could lead to complications. One man had grown attached to a woman in their group, she was tall, with light caramel skin, a narrow face, she had blue eyes and curly dark blond hair pulled into two short tufts on the top of her head.
      She was fond of him but easily switched to another of their number. He resents how easily she left him, and ends up asking for consent when he decides to court someone else in the group. She gives a small nod, which he also resents, because it proves how little she felt for him.
      They are under the direction of an old scientist they call Grandfather, there are ten of them. They have traveled to another universe. It is dark there. The only light is dim and red, all the rooms cavernous. Empty. They can't decide what to do because the timeline is unclear. Action could either eradicate the Hunger, or incite mass infection. The man and his former consort sit on a log in the middle of a very large room. Grandfather is across from them. The man admits that he knows which course of action they could take.
      She says, "You can't know. We would need a Seer."
      He confesses that he was a part of the famous 'failed' experiment. The one, years ago, that intended for children to keep their psychic abilities well into adulthood. Her eyes turn to him and his features become indistinct, shining with a dull, opaque light, a small horn protruding from his forehead. She can't quite believe it. Witches were common, but that experiment means he is no longer human, he is Andan. He smiles a little sadly, and knowing that this only widens the gulf between them, and insists he knows what they should do next.
      For the rest of the dream I do not see him as a flesh and blood person, just the opaque light with human outlines.

      There's a brief interlude where I believe I am his intended, and we run across a field. There is a quest, like in a game, a challenge for lovers. I run straight toward it, but have a moment of sadness and doubt, because he is reluctant to join me, so I avoid it too. Then I pretend I never intended to accept the challenge.

      Updated 02-11-2023 at 04:53 AM by 54746

    7. Favor, Forgotten, Flood

      by , 09-26-2016 at 03:31 AM
      I am in the water, off of a dock. My friend has left his...watercraft with the keys in the ignition out in the middle of the bay. I kept calling it a boat, but it wasn't really. Sort of like a jet ski, but you stood on it instead. It had a dashboard with controls, handles, and then a flat area to stand on. I watch a few people swim up to it, and I'm worried someone will steal it. I've never used one so I don't want to move it. Instead, I swim over, like it belongs to me, and remove the keys from the ignition. I hop over to a tiny walkway hugging a wall, and sidle along until I make it back to the dock which is painted dark, dull red. His apartment is across from mine. In the dream he was familiar to me, someone I care about, but he has become indistinct like many of my dream characters. I'd probably call him a mixture of Ruadh and my ex, considering the people in the apartment.

      Anyway, I go in through the open door and navigate through all the people, asking if anyone has seen him. They direct me to the kitchen, I find him there with one of my ex's friends, Amanda who was mostly nice but a little condescending to me.
      I walk directly to him and drop my eyes while I explain that he left his damn boat on the bay with the keys in the ignition. I drop the keys into his waiting hand. He thanks me in a distant way and says he'll be right back, I assume he's going to move the boat. I stand there a little too long and Amanda asks me in a condescending way, "What are you doing here, sweetheart?" and plucks a dust bunny from my sleeve.
      I frown a little. "Doing him the favor of returning his keys." I say. I know I wasn't invited. I leave without saying anything, knowing no one will notice or miss me.

      I walk across the way to my own apartment. It's has a curious layout. A front room with a tiny kitchen off to the right, and straight back is the bedroom, to the left of the bedroom is the bathroom, with another door leading into the living room. People follow me into my apartment, I don't know any of them. I try to shut the door to my bedroom, it's a heavy sliding metal door with a weird crossbar for a lock. It won't latch and people follow me into my room. I wander out through the bathroom and find a co-worker of mine in the living room. Startled, I realize my apartment has two entrances and he came in through the second one. He tells me he was just returning something to me? My cat got out. (I don't have a cat).
      I realize with a guilty start that I have forgotten to feed my cat. He's a very thin long-hair tabby. I wonder how long its been since I fed him? I cast about for his food and water bowl which are, embarrassingly full of cobwebs and dead flies. I gather them up and try to hide their disgraceful state from my co-worker as I rush into the kitchen to wash them out. How could I have forgotten?

      You know, this is the third or fourth time I've dreamt about forgetting to feed my cat, when I don't even have a cat. =/

      It ends with a terrible storm and strangers huddled in my apartment. I'm stuck at the front door, struggling to hold it closed. It won't latch and the flood water from the bay keeps rushing in through the cracks despite my efforts to hold it shut.

      Updated 09-26-2016 at 03:35 AM by 54746

    8. Semi-Lucid/Apartment/Ruadh 09/10/2016

      by , 09-13-2016 at 04:34 AM

      I hesitate to call this a true lucid dream since I never broke free of the storyline, yet I had full control of my body.
      I am approaching the dark dead end of a hallway. There is an intermittent security light that slides slowly back and forth over a small box embedded in the wall. It is a strange little thing (about..2X3?), there is a white-grey rectangular thing, like an oil pastel on the left end. To its right is pink fibrous felt, covering 6 similar (though darker) oil pastel things. It is like playing a game. I know I have to pull off the grey rectangle, peel back the felt, and then remove at least two of the thingies (it's almost like a battery case?) before the alarm goes off. I know I have tried this at least twice before and didn't succeed.

      Meanwhile, I can feel the light pulsing, back and forth, and there is a speaker overhead that plays a song. A man, singing in another language. It has an old-time feel to it, distant and tinny. I hear the same three words over and over, and it reminds me of the inception 'pre-kick song' Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien by Edith Piaf. Except I hear these words: "Baaaalllou, veli maaali. Baaaalllouu, veeeeli, maaali."
      Somehow it sounds ridiculous and I focus on the lyrics, waiting to understand them. At the same time I reach out and carefully pry the weird grayish white thing from the box. I wait a beat, and take a hold of the felt to peel it from the casing.
      I wait, thinking that if I wait for the music to swell, they won't notice my movements. I dig out one of the pieces and am reaching for a second when the dream fades into waking. I try to get it back, I was so close and I want so badly to finish.


      I'm in my apartment, except that it has two levels instead of one. There are a lot of people from work visiting. I go upstairs to what should be my room and find it full of things that belong to an acquaintance, I notice they are his only because of a bright red backpack I've seen him carry. I'm disquieted to find that the second bedroom is also full of unfamiliar things. This is my apartment...right? I frown and go downstairs. I am telling someone how much I pay per month, how affordable it is, especially given the size. My eyes scan the living room which is so large it could accommodate 3 sets of living room furniture at different points of the room without being cramped. I trail off, looking at the vast room. How can this be mine? There are a lot of people milling around and I wish they would all leave.

      You may see mention of this man in other entries. He has become quite a part of my subconscious. I was seeing him for a while but he always seemed to put someone or something else first and then he left me, but pretends he is my friend. So he pops up in...unflattering ways. It says more of what I think about myself than him, really. If you look at it closely. Anyway. In the dream I'm at work. I feel separate from everything. I watch him as he calls another associate he knows but in RL doesn't go out of his way to be friends with. He is going to have lunch with her. He avoids his friend who used to date her, saying that he is going to lunch alone, waits for his friend to leave, and for her to arrive.
      I know he doesn't particularly like her, so that he is going to lunch with her when he evaded so many plans with me, eh, hurts. I watch her enter the break room and get her stuff. I walk over to him and querulously ask why we never go to lunch together.
      "Figure it out." he says, smirking a little. He takes it as a joke, just like he does everything else.
      "I already have." I say seriously. He pretends he didn't hear me, so I repeat myself. I wait for him to ask what I've figured out, but when I try to explain he says something I can't understand and I am left feeling desolate and lonely. :/
    9. Fringe Again (Spoilers!)

      by , 09-01-2016 at 05:47 AM
      Every time I watch through Fringe, my subconscious focuses on Olivia's discovery of her ability to cross to the alternate universe, and how she became trapped there. Then usually jumps to the part where Peter is erased from the timeline but traces of him continue to exist in the minds of those closest to him.
      My subconscious seems to have a thing for them heh heh.

      In the dream I am the equivalent of Astrid but in this version of Reality I was a cortexaphan subject like Olivia. My ability was similar to hers but while hers was to cross to the other universe, I couldn't cross but could create a bridge. Allowing anyone without an ability to cross, or I could lessen the cost of crossing.
      So, I went with her to the other side and witnessed her capture and reconditioning but I remained outside of the story. When I finally met her again she found a way to cast me back to our universe, interrupting the storyline of the show where Fauxlivia had infiltrated our group and instead caused Fauxlivia's early incarceration.
      In Olivia's absence, Peter and I became close. On the cusp of being more.
      Olivia's return happens in the backyard of my childhood home. It's all washed out, wintry. There's a shift in our dynamic but no one wants to talk about it. Peter's attention has shifted from Olivia to me, and she is bitter because it never would have happened if she hadn't sent me back first.
      There's a lapse. I'm leaving my apartment. This part is confusing. I promise Peter that we will go somewhere first but we have to be quick because I have work. I get into the back of the car because just as we are leaving Olivia climbs into the passenger seat. Peter is driving so I ask where we are going, he says he'll drop me off at work. I argue that I'll still need my car to leave work later, and that we should go to get that first. He has an easy-going manner, lazily talking over me.
      "No really, just drop me off at my car..."
      "Don't worry, you'll get where you need to go."
      "Please, just listen to me for two seconds..."
      "It'll be fine, everything will work out..."
      Then suddenly he isn't driving, Olivia is driving from the passenger seat? Olivia accelerates and Peter falls back, clutching the back of his seat and the door, still smugly iterating that everything will be fine and I need to relax. His own seat is laying almost flat against the back seats. I'm crouching on the ridiculously spacious floorboard in the back, arguing with him.
      On a whim I walk to Peter and lean down over him.
      I tell him to shut up and bravely bridge the gap that neither of us could before, I kiss him firmly on the mouth to ensure his shutting up.
      He sits there blankly, not moving. I worry I have made a mistake and embarrassed, I retreat to the other side of the stupidly spacious car.
      "Sorry. I shouldn't have done that." I give him an excuse and space enough to ignore my rude action. Should he wish to. Of course he'll wish to.

      Then he is there, standing over me. Damn dashing in his dark red button-up and black vest. He smiles a little and tells me I've misunderstood his shock. He tilts my chin upward so I must meet his eyes, and in sync he drops to his knees as I rise smoothly to mine and we smile a little as he presses his mouth to mine. It's an odd, distant sort of lucidity. I can feel his mouth. His shoulder under my hand as I draw him closer. It feels familiar somehow.
      My body molds to his, straddling his thigh. Half lucidity does me a disservice, making his mouth too wet, drawing every second of the kiss out, the scrape of teeth on tongue. I ignore it.

      Then I am suddenly aware of Olivia looking at us from the passenger seat. I break the kiss, it is incredibly rude to make out with someone while his once-time girl sits watching.
      She smiles and bitingly says, "Don't stop on my account. I know how...charming he can be."
      I flush, embarrassed.
      "I'm sorry, you know I didn't intend..." I begin, turning toward her.
      "Didn't intend what?" Olivia asks.
      "I know that you two were supposed to..." I can't finish. I feel like I've stolen something from her and don't even have the decency to acknowledge the theft. "This wouldn't have happened if you didn't send me back sooner."
      She smiles a little, she's beautiful even in her bitterness, with her dangerously red lips.
      I look to Peter who has retreated to the other side of the car.
      Olivia leans forward to kiss my neck and I am so overwrought already that I...react. She pulls away and I fluidly turn to give her a slow kiss. There's so much in this small, stupid scene. She feels brittle and sad and distant, mindlessly pursuing oblivion. I think about offering to share him with her. You know, together, but I think she would be insulted so I keep it to myself.

      At length we come to a city square that reminds me of Italy. Except it is distant and empty like a ruin. It's full of stupid restaurants? We observe them with equal amounts of puzzlement and amusement, because they revolve around Suddenly Salad. *snorts, then cackles a little*
      "That's an unprecedented number of restaurants." Peter says, frowning down at a patio table, like all the ones around it it has a plate of the stupid Suddenly Salad mix.
      "Yeah, it's a little excessive, isn't it?" I say with a laugh.

      Updated 09-15-2016 at 05:37 AM by 54746

    10. Fringe/Forgotten

      by , 08-21-2016 at 04:27 AM
      At first I'm at work, Lowe's. Walking the one aisle that is mine It's a huge mess and I'm offended that some stupid person has wrecked it and that I have to clean up after them. Then I realize that the PSAs are doing a reset, and for some absurd reason we're selling mattresses now. I look at the bay, unsure what to do with it now. Why are the mattresses even HERE? Why are there pillows scattered everywhere? Do I clean them up? Or wait until the reset is done?

      Then I am in my childhood home in Blackstone MA. It's the latest hour of the night, the house is dark, and I'm looking down at a random assortment of objects on a dresser top. I think about returning the ring to my ex, like he has asked, and feel a very distant, cold pain when I realize he is dead and has been for a few weeks. (The dead part, isn't true, at least.) And, returning the ring is no longer an issue, I feel relieved and also guilty for feeling better, that I don't have to think about it anymore.
      Seamlessly the story changes, it isn't only that he is dead but that he never existed, and I'm the only one who remembers. It seems so sad to me that I'm the only one. I can't be the only one, can I? Who remembers him? I think about our dog, and wonder who has been taking care of him in my ex's absence. I should pick him up. He'll be sad now, that my ex is gone, I suppose he'll have to make do with me.
      I'm in the hallway of the house. But I'm not myself. It's a really absurd Fringe crossover. I pass a man who makes a grab at me, I feel completely insane because he's trying to convince me that I'm wrong. That the person I believed existed wasn't even real.
      . In the show Fringe, Olivia Dunham had a niece, Ella. I hear her talking in my head like someone has mentioned a person to her.
      "Aunt Liv? Who is that?" She asks. Of course she doesn't know me, but it hurts all the same. I twist free of the man making a grab at me. I see myself in third person and for a moment I'm Olivia.
      He's certain that I'm insane, because I think Olivia Dunham existed, when no one else remembers her. It seems so sad, that everyone should forget. It's a sharp, perfect pain in my chest. I twist free, making a run for the stairs leading to the front door. I know she's real, I can't have made her up.

      I rarely analyze dreams when I post them, but I suppose this makes sense...after the fact. In the show, something similar happens to one of the characters, a timeline is erased along with one of the main characters. Olivia's belief that he once existed is enough to pull him from the ether into existence. So. That I see myself in third person, as Olivia and also the person believing she existed when no one else remembers...makes a sort of sense. People forget about me all the time. And just like the DCs, they don't even realize they're doing it.

      Updated 08-21-2016 at 04:35 AM by 54746

    11. Mean Joke

      by , 08-18-2016 at 04:40 AM
      I have a string of false awakenings. I use various cues to determine that I'm dreaming each time it happens. The final time, I'm sitting on my bed, a friend of mine comes into the room and I tell her to wait a moment while I figure out if I'm dreaming. I look down at a book and tell myself that the text on the cover will change when I look away and back, if I am dreaming. When it does, I'm relieved. This version of reality is grey and sad, despite the presence of my friend.
      "So?" She asks.
      "It looks like I'm dreaming." I reply.
      "That means we can do anything, right?"
      "Sure we can."
      "Do you want to hang out?"
      I smile a little. "Of course."
      I slide off the bed to stand next to her.
      "You wanna try on your new dress first?" She holds out a vividly red, pretty thing with a v-neck and a wide band of tiny bronze beads around the waist. I'm touched, I haven't known her long enough for her to be giving me gifts. I smile and take it from her, stepping around to the other side of the bed to stand in front of a mirror. The world darkens a shade. And for the rest of the dream I only view myself and her through the mirror. I put my arms up through the skirt, and draw it over my head. It takes an inordinate amount of time to find the neck. All the while my friend is grinning, laughing, encouraging me, like this is some event. When I finally push my head through the neck of the dress and draw it down, my friend is overcome with laughter. Doubled over. I find there is a sort of fine mesh hood/mask sewn to the neck. It has round white eyes, and a triangular beak covering my nose and mouth, and 6 white feathers standing first on end then laying flat to my scalp. It looks a little like a chicken. I feel a prickle of humiliation as I realize this entire time she was making fun of me. It only lasts for a second, but dream time is longer. I force myself backward and...upward into waking.
    12. Mother/Father

      by , 08-12-2016 at 06:06 AM
      My mother used to belong to a secret organization. There was no escaping, the only way to leave was to die, either on mission or by the hand of the organization. Leaving was called bowing out. She has been on the run for a long time, until now. They maneuvered her into a position where there was no other real choice. They threatened to kill me if she didn't give herself up.
      I stood on a wooden stage, the velvet curtains drawn, the auditorium full of people. In a chair beside me is a man. Behind him is my mother. I'm reading cues off my phone, kneeling on the stage, tense, staring out into the crowd wondering how swift the organization's justice will be. I know they are out there, and my mother is in plain sight.
      I pause, knowing what this will mean, but my mother has decided this is the only way.
      "So." I say, "We'll take a bow."
      I speak it clearly. Firmly. Bending into a bow.
      My mother bows her head.
      A gunshot rings out, striking her in the shoulder, but not killing her. How could their aim be so terrible? I'm aware of the killer's fumbling to reload, and only have a second to recover before the second shot hits her in the side.
      Now, my subconscious is weird and has been swapping gender roles recently.
      I see my mother out of the corner of my eye and I decide I can't do this. There's still time. Seamlessly she is the man in the chair, I take a hold of her and drag her off stage. In the dream she is taller than me, but when she was alive, she was my height. I go a ways into the dark building before I set her carefully on the floor and I yell for help until my voice is ragged. Hoping someone will hear me. No one comes and I pull out my phone to call 911. There's static at first and I panic, pressing my hands to the bloody wound in her shoulder. It's so red, even in the dark. I yell again, into the phone, crying. "Someone, please. I need help." Her body seems so cold, I spot a blanket nearby and I pull it over her still frame.
      After a few long minutes I become aware of speaking. The operator is chatting with someone for over a minute. In desperate disbelief I interrupt. "Hello?"
      "What?" The woman snaps.
      "Um." I'm emotional and enraged I managed to find the words. "I'd like an ambulance please." I pause, then burst out, yelling. "Didn't you hear me yelling for help? You're just sitting there having a chat while my mother is dying?"
      "...Are their aliens?" The woman asks.
      "Why?" I ask, but I already understand.
      "Well, I need to know who to send." And she does, if there are aliens then Unit will be involved, if there aren't, then the police will do.
      "um. Well, YEAH there are aliens but they aren't HERE right now."
      "Okay. Hold tight. A team will be there soon to help you. How injured is your mother?"
      Now it gets weird. Like I said, my subconscious started seamlessly gender-swapping people. So my mother becomes a man, looks like a cross between actors Robert Knepper and Gideon Emery. While he lays before me he is also rising to walk away. His left arm is amputated below the elbow.
      "Um, there's two gunshot wounds, shoulder and one in the ribs." I watch him walk away, two ragged holes in his body. Yet he is still in front of me? At length the paramedics appear and strap him/her to a stretcher, bearing him/her off to treat his/her wounds.
      People arrive, not seeming too concerned with events. They treat it all like it was part of the play and I try unsuccessfully to make it as real for them as it was for me.

      Updated 08-16-2016 at 06:07 AM by 54746

    13. Jack and Liam

      by , 08-10-2016 at 06:20 AM
      Liam and Jack are recurring dream characters of mine. Liam always leaves me in a state of awe, like seeing a deceased loved one. When Jack appears, it's like...seeing a friend you haven't seen in a long time. Sometimes he's an ass. With Liam I'm always vividly aware, I can hear his voice. Feel textures. It's like becoming lucid. Jack is always more about emotions or situations.
      Saja is a facet of my personality. Sometimes I become her when I dream. She belongs to Liam.

      I find myself walking down the hall in my new apartment. I see a man kneeling at the foot of my bed, he's strikingly familiar. Dark-haired, wearing a plaid shirt and black jeans. This should immediately make me think of Jack, but I can't seem to think of his name. I go into my room, which is larger. The closet doors are open and there's a large alcove at the foot of the bed. I regard him with some fascination, as I always do. There's a random person hanging out by one of the windows, and also a man laying before him. My ex? This is important, my time to explain. Because when I step up beside him I am not myself. I am Saja. I want to tell my ex, and Jack about how there's this whole other person hiding in my subconscious, that takes over when I'm dreaming. When I step up beside him he addresses me, though he continues to stare forward into the alcove.
      "I've...come a long way to find you." He sounds strained and a little hesitant, "Do you...know who I am?"
      I never get a clear look at his face, only his mouth. Everything feels slow and perfect as I drop to my knees in front of him, uncertain. He is familiar, for sure. No one could have come further than Liam, though. And because I am so firmly Saja right now, and not myself. I breathe Liam's name with a sad kind of reverence.
      Jack hesitates. His stark, angry disbelief ripples through the air, striking me like a slap. My mistake leaves me cold and a little ashamed.
      Jack's mouth twists into a slight sneer. "Liam. Always Liam. He isn't even real. Just a fantasy you've built into a man." He's trying to shame me because I've hurt him. I'm embarrassed and I want to counter his statement. Liam is just as real to me as he is. What about all the times of I've seen him? With his fire-like hair and crooked smile?
      I don't speak, just convey my recognition. I KNOW him, but I'm afraid to call him Jack, just in case I am wrong.
      A moment later Jack gives lie to his pronouncement of Liam being a fabrication.
      His voice is low and intense, "Do you think he would have done the things I've done for you?" He wants to show me what he's done, and rips his shirt off. Because of the drama behind the action I expect to see some sort of scar to represent his sacrifice. There is nothing, though. His skin is pale and smooth. That doesn't mean it isn't there, only that I can't see it. I regard him silently and give him a small smile, pressing my mouth to his by way of apology.
      There's a confusing sequence, in which I am doing things but also not doing them at the same time. My sister arrives to make fun of me for my actions. I make excuses for my behavior but my shame sharp. I leave the room instead, hoping she will forget. I go out into the living room, I suddenly have a grey cat. I've had him for a week, I realize. I frown...realizing there isn't a litter box. How could I have forgotten? I find my sister in my room, except now it's her son's room. She's cuddling with her own cat, a long haired grey female.
      I tell her I somehow forgot she had a cat. I initially felt like a jerk for forgetting a litter box for my cat, then relieved that there was one in the house.

      There was also some weird thing about being in a bar, and the drunken masses choosing sober people to 'ride the wave'. They would pick us at random, swinging us into the air with wild abandon, like crowd surfing. Then buy us a drink afterward.
      I meet a man who looks a little like Neil Patrick Harris, who endured the swinging, just for the drunken people to offer him a drink. Just like they did for me moments before. He introduces himself as Jack. I smile a little, knowing he isn't my jack but wishing he was.

      Updated 08-10-2016 at 06:22 AM by 54746

      Tags: jack, liam, saja
    14. My Subconscious Wasn't a Total Asshole!

      by , 07-06-2016 at 04:48 AM
      There was more before this point, but I only have a vague idea what it entailed. Anyway. When it picks up I'm sitting in a dark gray van, right behind the driver's seat. The doors are all open. I have a friend who adores me, but has just left. Because she loves me her family adopts me. It is strange and touching, to have people I just met call me 'sister' like I've always been around. I have been stood up by a man I care about and I'm wallowing a little. One of her brothers ducks into the front passenger seat. He's wearing a blue-gray t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off. He's very pale with ice blue eyes and blond hair. He looks familiar and in retrospect he reminds me of the DC with pale green eyes from the Quelling dream.
      He asks me what's wrong and I don't feel like I can tell him, since I hardly know him but it's clear that I'm sad. He leans over, resting one knee on the seat and lifts my chin with one cool hand. Whereas before, the dream felt slightly third person, for this moment I am fully myself, such that I can feel the texture and weight of his fingers.This is a gesture of brotherly kindness. He smiles at me and says "It's alright, sister. Everything will be okay. You'll see."
      And just like that, I feel better. This is nothing like the weight that lifted off me in similar dreams but it always amazes me when my subconscious is kind and offers comfort instead of horror.

      We all pile into the van, and the kind brother offers to take us out and says he knows the perfect place. My friend seems a little doubtful and cautions me about her brother's choices, saying that he is a little off kilter and we may not enjoy the place. Sure enough, we drive past outrageous night clubs obsessed with aesthetic, one place had a ring of billowing, multi-colored clouds around the sign. It was pretty but excessive and seemed like we would enjoy it if we were drunk or drugged.
      We get out at an old house that has become a tourist attraction. I become lucid with my friend as we walk through the front door. We exclaim about how we knew what the tile would look like before we even entered because the outside was so familiar. It was white with a blue design, but where the tile met the walls, the design was edged in black. It's hard to describe. We are allowed to wander around, so I go outside into a little courtyard. In the dirt are pretty stones, I call them geodes, but the outsides of them are polished gemstones, while the insides are the typical sharp crystal. They are beautiful, emerald green and ruby red, the insides are pale blue. I take pictures with my phone knowing my friend will want to see them.
    15. Of Course Not

      by , 06-26-2016 at 04:46 AM
      I am making out with a man at work, he is beautiful and I might even love him. I lead him somewhere so that we might have sex, but even though I am naked he remains clothed. After a time, someone calls him away and he just goes like I don't mean anything. There is a mirror, it is hammered bronze and I can hardly see myself. I ask someone nearby if they have seen the man I was with. She smiles, and says, "Oh, honey. He doesn't want you."
      As she says it I lean closer to the dull metal surface. I see that I am ugly. "Oh." I say. "I suppose he wouldn't."

      Jack and the House

      I am at the MA house. I am lucid but I don't really remember the dream. There is something awful in the house, and because I am lucid I warn my DCs that something bad is going to happen so they can void it. The house is dark, it's the deep hours the night where everything is quiet, and so very still. There's something that forces them to act outside their nature and I try to save them from that violation by warning them. It doesn't always work. There are several cycles of the same dream where I am trying to save the other people in the house but I don't always succeed.

      I am in a jungle. Before me stands a riverbed, the banks are choked with vividly green vegetation. A woman tells me that she saw Jack travel downstream, and even the rumor of Him is enough to make me follow. I wade into the cool gray water. I stare down the dark stone tunnel, I can see the end, but I know that once I enter, the current will take me and I will not be able to turn back. I duck under the opening. I have to find him. The water takes me. What I thought was the end, is actually a moss covered support beam. I easily pass underneath it. The tunnel becomes more narrow the longer I traverse it, and each 'end' is actually a mossy support beam. So there is no end. The tunnel narrows, causing me to panic. Each support is further under water so that I have no idea if there will be air on the other side. So, then, there is only the rushing water, the harrowing scrape of the stone walls pressing in around me, and knowing that if only I could get to the other end of the tunnel, everything would be okay.

      Updated 06-26-2016 at 11:21 AM by 54746

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