LiveInTheDream's DJ v2.5

(PREPARE FOR EXTREMELY WEIRD DREAMS)

My dream recall continues to improve...what memories are there are in near-perfect detail, and I even remember more than one dream, although the second one was very short and came late in the morning.

Dream 1: I was at a gathering of some sort in a large room. Even though it was fairly crowded, it didn't take me long to notice the huge canisters against one of the walls. I walked closer to them, and saw that they were filled with a green, transparent liquid, and a man was sitting Indian-style in the midst of it. He was skinny and totally hairless, plus his skin had taken on a sickly, pale green tone from being in the liquid so long. A tube ran from the back of his head to the bottom of the canister, where a bunch of machinery was.

"What is this?" I muttered to myself.

The man in the liquid opened his eyes and replied:

"I'm being grown into a pickle."

I didn't believe him at first. But there was another such canister next to this one, and the man inside it chimed in:

"It's true."

I ran to find someone who knew what was going on with the men in the canisters. The first person that came to mind was the guy that owned the place, so I talked to him first.

"Excuse me," I began, "do you know what's going on with the men in the canisters back there?"

"They're being grown into pickles, what else?" He replied, as if this were common knowledge. After a moment, he realized I still didn't understand. "You mean...you don't know how pickles are grown? No one ever told you?"

"Told me what?"

He started to walk over to the canisters as he spoke:

"That all the other stories about how pickles are grown are just that--stories. Lies designed to cover up the truth that pickles are grown from humans in canisters like these. The machinery at the base runs the whole thing by connecting to the person inside through the tube at the back. The liquid is what causes the real transformation, though. The machines simply speed things up and make sure it all goes well. The process takes nearly fifty years to complete."

I was shocked.

"Why would people give up their lives for this?" I asked.

"They believe it is a better form of existence." Came the simple reply.

"How the heck is that a better form of existence? That must stink to have to sit down for fifty years straight."

We had reached the canisters by now, and one of the men inside heard me say that, and I guess he agreed.

"You're right!" He exclaimed. "Oh, to get to run again! I've been in here for 25 years...I can't take it any longer! Quick! Get me out!"

The owner of the place protested.

"You can't quit now!"

I didn't listen. I grabbed a nearby crowbar and smashed the canister open. All the liquid poured out, which fried the machine and freed the man inside. He looked more alien than human, but he was alive, and not a pickle, which was good enough for him.

"This can't go on." I told the owner.

I left the building and marched straight to a political gathering. I pushed the speaker aside like he was nothing and took the podium for myself.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm here to inform you of a conspiracy."

As I spoke, the dream left first-person and was spectating fields of humans being grown into pickles. All stages of the transformation were visible; the ones that were nearly pickle-ized looked quite creepy.

"It turns out that we have things backwards. Previously, in life as we once knew it, pickles were harvested, and humans were grown. However, I have seen the truth with my own eyes, and it is not that way. The truth is, that pickles are grown, and humans are being harvested--yes, humans are being harvested as pickles through a transformation chamber that is neither right nor pleasant. I would inform you..."

I was knocked out by the cops, then.

When I came back to, there was green transparent liquid all around me. I could feel a tube attached to the back of my head. When I reached out, I could feel glass only a couple feet away from me. And outside, I could see the owner of that building I began in. My skin was pale. My arms were woefully skinny. I knew exactly what they had put me in. I tried to break out, but couldn't...

Then I woke up. It probably would have been a kind of creepy dream if the thing people were being turned into wasn't pickles

Dream 2: There was a celebration going on in China that had achieved world-wide attention. It was a celebration of McDonald's anniversary, and it was completely led and organized by a 10-year old girl. I wasn't physically present, but I was seeing an interview with the kid on Discovery Channel. She explained to the news guy how she had organized everything and who was doing what and how it was possible, and then showed him the floats of the parade, the most prominent of which was a play on the chinese dragon where a whole bunch of people stand beneath it and walk around with it over their heads. Rather than a long dragon, it was a float that looked like a chain of hamburgers.

Weird, right? Pickles as a dream sign, I mean. Hamburgers have pickles on them, and the first dream had pickles...so that seems to be the common element with my dreams last night. No idea why.