pokechimp8

Wake up with ra ra ra part of "Moondance" by Van Morrison stuck in my head

I "wake up" as I see flashing lights under my eyelids. Raph's phone light is flickering. I get up and pull it away from his foot and give it him, as it accidentally starts playing some techno music and he scrambles to shut it off. Soon I seem to be in my own bed again, so tired and still that I cant imagine having just leapt out of the bed. I ask, not considering if he's asleep whether I dreamt getting up and he says no, seeming a little irritated. I'm not sure what to believe.

Later there's a pounding/pressure on the door that seems to imply we have not paid our bills completely and someone is coming in to kill us. They call it the Connecticut apartment genocide. I'm indignant.
It's covered by a news show and a mousey woman with a big forehead and shoulder-length blonde hair stifles laughter as she tells us about the latest victim, A middle aged man. The camera swoops to a disappointed male colleague next to her who begins to go off. Someone's head is blocking the bottom half of the frame.

Soon I'm watching clips of survivor (including Janelle from Big Brother 7 jumping off a tall rowboat and paddling away in an escape boat into a glimmering dawn) and then reading about how there's been nationwide controversy over things the tribes have said to each other.
Then I'm reading a Reddit AMA for one of the contestants but it becomes unclear whether it's her speaking, or a bot she programmed to speak about her survivor experience. I don't have enough context to know.

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An earlier dream starts with me (female teen) and my little sister having just run away from home to a large tropical desert. We're in the outskirts by the fences, looking for an opening or a gate to go through.
It's pitch black out and we're navigating using a flashlight.
I stare in wonder as the giant palm leaves cast long black shadows along the desert floor and perimeter fence. My sister comments this is my photographic wet dream. We notice someone close behind us in the bushes in a yellow shirt.

The camera changes to an isometric view from above, and it becomes a sort of Sims game. My sister runs off to a house and I stay in the desert. I attempt to delete the man (now joined by a group of his friends) and type in some cheat codes to teleport somewhere else but to my surprise I am brutally murdered with an axe whack to the neck. I watch myself drop into a growing pool of blood.

I was at a bigger version of the Longwood T stop, and it was bright and sunny out. I saw a 90-year old man standing across on the opposite platform with a baby in a rocker seat, by his foot. He looked like he used to be a professor but can hardly stand and looked like he should be in a nursing home, not taking care of a baby.
Its rocker seat was very close to the edge of the tracks. I yelled, or did something that somehow pushed the seat away from the edge. But it rolled back on its axis and fell onto the tracks, and no one seemed to notice for a moment, not even the man.

The train pulled over the crest of the hill silently and without warning, and a few men moved to jump onto the tracks but the baby got run over and we heard the crunching of plastic and metal. We all had to board a bus--the old man got onboard without any punishments and got the stink eye from everyone but that seemed to be it?

.....

The dream evolved into me taking the bus up to a town at the end of a peninsula, maybe H.
Dad told me I was only supposed to be here to pick up something. The sky is rumbling and gray and for some reason hurts my eyes to look at, as I ride past a lodging place. I get to the tip of town and see mini cafes, and warehouses and shallow, rocky blocks of beach.

I stay the night, and I'm running freely down a long path with the ocean below on my left, and a dark strip of park to my right lit up by streetlamps. I almost run off the edge of the path, which stops suddenly and drops 3 stories into a basketball court carved as a square block into the big hill. I clutch my chest and inch down the hill on the side.
I reach a kind of bench rest area as the bay on my left begins to open into a beach, and I can hear the ocean but it's a black void. There's some teenagers a few years younger than me that am still intimidated by.

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Dad and I move to H, and there is a long window facing the length of the sun-baked driveway. Shady looking people are selling hard drugs there, and we need to close the blinds so they don't think we are going to snitch on them. Dad is laying back in a chair, and I have to repeat this to him slowly, like he is senile. His mouth is falling open.

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With Una, abroad in Germany outside a cloudy brick subway station carved out of the ground like in Harvard square, but it's shaped like a WWI trench. They are going to build a house for their family to live in. They recommend to our friend that she pull up her jeans to show off her knee high red boots.

I dreamt Alice made a giant beautiful watercolor piece on huge paper and I had to bring it from the classroom up to her DS9 desk.
I clumsily pick it up on front of the entire classroom and can barely get it out of the room without bending creases in it and walking into walls.
I'm super ashamed and embarrassed but I don't know if people are noticing because I'm purposely not looking at them.

I make it up to her desk and Victoria is there, and we have a good conversation.

She asks me about how my five years of probation is going (!?) and I say fine, and begin loudly telling her that it was bullshit and I was caught being a middleman but there are some school officers and faculty walking by the aisle of desks and I can see them giving me suspicious looks, so I stop unnaturally in the middle of my sentence and talk about something else.

I don't think Victoria sees the officers so she probably thinks I am out of it. I look at Alice's drawing and notice a huge tear at the bottom and creases in multiple other places.

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I'm walking down the sidewalk by Evan's way, the one parallel to the fens. It's a warm, cloudy, blustery afternoon that is about to break into a thunderstorm and the sky is darkening.
John and Irena are walking ahead, and a giant human-sized palm leaf gets caught on one of the small trees to our left. I'm walking that direction anyway, and Irena grabs it and hoops it around my head jokingly, like a mother. I grab each end and dance with it, and use it as a sail to carry me down the dirt path.
Irena laughs to John as I get dragged further away and they wave goodbye.

There's a group of practicing BU cheerleaders dressed in shimmery gold, forming a pyramid under one of the big shady trees. As I blow by I do pull the leaf under my legs and do some cool somersaults.
I turn into Daria H. and Irena mentions how multitalented I am as I continue somersaulting across the street towards the Gardner museum, but remember to stop as a truck chugs slowly out from behind a car.

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I'm on a balcony at Target, overlooking the long escalator crowded with people. I see a glimpse of Mrs. Bello and Joaquin, and I rush to the ground floor and see they're carrying home a newly purchased TV!
This isn't the first time I've run into them at Target, and we catch up.

And then I'm at their house--it's one of the large, simple ones from the colonial era made from blank, mossy dark wood and with no embellishments. The roof is giant and dominates the house's silhouette--on the right side its slope continues downward, to the ground. And the house is under a thick blanket of damp-smelling autumn trees, at the very back of an empty, grassy lot. It looks like it was plopped there in the Sims.

I approach the ramp and see under it, see that the inside of the house is shelled out and charred black, so it looks like an empty dollhouse.

The sound of a slow car rolls into the street behind me, with a woman in the passenger seat. My vision is a little blurry, but from way here in the back of the lot it looks like she has the white eyes of a lizard--I know because she's leaning far out of the passenger seat, staring at me with her head following me mechanically like a pivot as the car moves.

I chase after her yellow car on my bike, fiercely curious, until the car disappears into an alley. That curiosity turns into fear as the car begins chasing me, and begins an action sequence of me whipping around tight corners and fences. I eventually reach the bottom of a highway overpass that reminds me of the one in springfield.

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(fragments I jotted half asleep and don't remember well enough to write out in full)

Elliot Smith Bled white city ending credits overtaken by animated characters like before
The flowers pouring out of the plane represent their loved ones let them be

Visit dark sea st weymouth studio daylight under cheap blinds
find clothes rushing scary feel presence end on summer train platform

Last minute bart simpson seaside diner at night, me and drug addict have to watch babies
finish some task tonight and it is very high stakes, takes place in sims 3 sunset valley beach

There was a sudden apartment move where I was kicked out (cant even remember why). I moved to a big, depressing beige room with stained carpet and a TV and a sofa pushed up against the wall where I'm pretty sure I slept. It's in a trashy high rise somewhere like east Boston, with warehouses and docks and dense housing and the brown Charles river.

I discover a weird staircase in the kitchen, curving around toward the ceiling. It's small and begins above the counter--like it was made for mice--and I have to crawl up it on all fours. I look up and see that there's no ceiling here.
It's under a sort of overpass in Fenway park, the big green metal scaffolding structures that hang over the parts of the stadium and cast everything in dark shade. It's so close it almost dips into the room.
I reach the top of the tiny staircase to peer over the apartment's wall, and there is a small metal 'balcony' around the perimeter--so close to this 'overpass' I can't stand up fully.
When I peer down there's a narrow shaded street with a gift shop where tourists flock. The gift shop also reaches up to the overpass, so the street feels like a tall, shady tunnel where the sunlight and traffic sounds flood in from both open sides.

Instead of having a railing this 'balcony' has weird pointless windows a couple feet high, not high enough to touch the overpass, and balancing on the edge. I could just step over them if I wanted to, but of course they're substitutes for railings so I'd plummet to my death. They're caked with dust and can be cranked open with an old-school handle.

When I look forward through the gaps of this huge green ceiling, I can hear the roar of the baseball game and see a sliver of the crowd and green field. I can almost make out the scoreboard.

I get paranoid for some reason, and feel like the tourists below can see me up in the scaffolding, peeking over the ceiling of my apartment at them. My phone buzzes with a message and in my paranoia I duck down--what if it's from some serial killer across the way who sees me?

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I see a courtyard. I went to antonio bates' b-day party here as a kid, and there had been a weird building this was it!! With its mini inner courtyard and cheap pools
It was tall mini water park under a stormy sky with cold slides and hanging playground bridges I see it from above cold wet aqua

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Woke up in uncle Jimmy's basement and immediately knew it was a dream, but was shocked by how clear it all was. I got up and slowly looked around and soaked in every detail. Beautiful late morning sunlight shone into every part of the basement, more than physically possible.
I think I tried laying on the bed and feeling weight, and closing my eyes to see if they'd reopen to Boston. And somehow I knew where I was really sleeping and could envision my real room, which normally doesn't happen.

Every part of the basement felt real until I got to James' room, and saw that there was a flight of quaint wooden stairs going down into a cluttered sub-basement, with complex embroidered railings and rugs. I wanted the dream to stay stable, so I went upstairs instead.

Dad was in the kitchen upstairs making some breakfast. I must not have been lucid anymore, or else I'd have burst into tears. A serious construction friend was there, and a girl sitting over where the TV would be. I lean across and ask her her her name that I have forgotten before. She was friends with another girl, a supposed member of my family, that died recently.

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I have to get to the food pantry across the dark city--Raph and Nell are there. I'm with some old man in his red bathroom as he tells me something important for my journey.
His apartment is small and warm and has a cheap round wooden dining room table pressed against a window, one that faces Evan's way except it is a long stretch of pitch, pitch blackness.

Something happens because there are predators out there in the alleys and sewers. The park is an acre-wide flat empty square of grass, surrounded on four far sides by these buildings.
They are the only light source--the edges of the park are visible but it's too huge for their light to reach the center and it is a gradual pit of darkness. I believe they get me when they see me in the middle of the open space and rush towards me from the alleys looking in. I have to try multiple times.

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On the green line in the same dark city except a class is happening with all the adults and teenagers and strangers on the train and they're going around, having people recite something in response to certain questions.
I'm not sure what's going on and am listening close over the roar of the train, trying to figure it out before I am called on.

Bowlingotter is there, Lissy over in front of me to my right, Matty above on the seats one staircase up behind me.
I smile at her laughing and I wonder if he knows I have a tiny crush on her. The train is warm and the windows are black leaving only our reflections and tiny colorful lightspots from the traffic outside. I feel nice surrounded by all these people.

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At the Weymouth house I enter the kitchen and the dining table is in the center, and aunt carol and a random girl are sitting there. It seems like an early spring day--the back door is open and cold white overcast light pours in.

I am trying to dispose of a bag I have and aunt carol is being very finicky about it, going to get a separate bag to put it in and asking me to rip it up first.
I go to my room and am trying to figure something out about joining Suzanne's zoom class on my phone, which had begun on the train. I wander around and look out the windows at an empty smart food bag tumbling through the yard and, and it's dim blue inside because no lights are on and the house seems cold and quiet and empty and it gives me a weight in my stomach.

In Uncle Jimmy's backseat, with everyone else in the front. We're apparently going to Houston or just to the end of the Hull Peninsula. We're almost there, on that long road by the where the apartment island is. Except to our left the water is a giant canyoned basin, filled with impossibly clear turquoise water, at its bottom beautiful thick, dark, ornate yellow sand.

We wonder why the water is so tropical looking. I speculate that the Pacific ocean usually pushes in the dark bacteria from the deep sea into these small-town basins--maybe it's receded.

The apartment bridge is there, but it's wooden. And there is a tall, strange cactus-like tree sprouting into view. It's entirely unnatural and looks like a poor, undefined rendition of foliage you might find in RCT3, along with color of the water.

I notice sprouting out of the edges of the basin are more low-poly tropical trees. Their roots sprawl "underwater", looking like a maze that belongs deep in the soil but is unhidden by this artificial water. They clip into the sand in places.
Some of them seem to get uprooted by the wind, releasing clouds of the deep ocean "blue bacteria" I'd mentioned. I was right!
They float momentarily and pool at the bottom of the sand.

We're transitioning to a big bridge, and I confirm that the ocean is only opaque because of the billion clouds of microbacteria.
I tell Matt in the front seat that you can scrape your fingers along the basin and get a thick nailful, and they all laugh.
They say something about the roads down in the basin and I say that's the least of their worries. They all laugh again.

Now we're on a stormy, twisting, elevated highway, the kind that forks and loops and overlaps itself on stories-high concrete pillars as it takes you into the deep city. The rain is pouring dangerously, so thickly that the afternoon is almost night.
We are dressed like we're going swimming, sitting shirtless and in swim trunks and towels, and it feels completely unfitting for this situation. I feel vulnerable.
The rain pours harder and some of the windows are open, and there is a sense of doom and a fear of heights kicks in, like we are going to crash and swerve off the highway to the land below.
I'm the one in a towel. I imagine myself washed up on the road.

But soon we're on a much safer wooden bridge, surrouded by lush, sun-baked golden evening fields. Like the one the train in Harry Potter drives through. Uncle Jimmy is not looking at the road, keeps JUST making the turns. Soon we are weaving around the bridge--what if the cops chased us? And there is a tiny, toy-like cop car behind us. I then realize we're also toy-like, and we swing off the bridge and I realize this is Uncle Jimmy's dream, otherwise we'd surely be dead.
We are probably still on the bridge but the "8pm segment" of the dream is here, when Yncle Jimmy goes into deep REM sleep and we can play his dream ourselves and take control of the car.

There is a GTA 5 character named "sean" (Michael) who has a similar mechanic. There is a YouTube compilation of his driving dream segments.

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In Boston, standing on the sidewalk under the 'overpass' entrance of a big tower in the financial district. It feels like a cross between a museum and the DMC. I'm apparently visiting uncle Jimmy with a friendly older "grandpa/uncle" figure but didn't think I would actually have to spend the night. I wanna avoid it and just stay at the beach.
Dream logic says I'm pretty close to Hyannis, and throughout the dream I refer to my map as I walk through Boston anxiously, around the outskirts where the highways merge down to street level and there are caged elevated walkways to the train stops and grassy lots under high, shadowy overpasses. It's dusk but the clouds overhead are dark and stormy, resulting in a strange humid dimness where none of the streetlights have timed on yet, but should have hours ago.

Hyannis ends up being easy closer than I thought and soon I am on a little bus (like the hull shuttle) looking at the sunny sky and impossibly bright aqua water. We reach a road that winds around the outskirts of town-- a bushy, grassy hill on the inside corner we pass and the sand and water on the outside. I ask him to stop and he does, and I get out and the waves and sand reach right up to the road--I take my shoes off before stepping off the bus directly into the water, and the hot sun raises goosebumps on my skin.

I'm now a blonde girl named Mary and there is a group of mermaids further down, by a dingy brown roadside telephone pole that protrudes directly out of the crystal water and sand.

Some creepy dudes pull up in a van and slow down to match my pace as I walk barefoot through the waves and sand along the road. He leans out of the window and repeats something that I can't hear over the loud hum of the van. The smell of the exhaust follows me. I dig into my acting chops to yell at them and act crazy and psychotic, widen my eyes and chitter my jaw and smile like I am going to kill them, and reach my spamming hands behind my back like I am grabbing something, and they speed away.

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With Laura and Damon and a badass Asian cyber-tech girl on an elevated highway at sunset after a long day, on our way back to school, back to traverse town. We're gonna break in somewhere in a couple hours, we poke at the idea with bubbling excitement, we quietly dare the others to make the suggestion first. I see us in a comic book panel--the highlight of the girl's black hair is a fiery jagged strip, dithered as if from a PC-98 game.

We're in our backyard at traverse town. The house is small and made of smooth, wonky rounded stone, like something from Whoville. The yard is small and round and walled in with a high fence of the same rounded material. It's very cozy though. It looks like a place where you'd have outdoor dinner parties, with a fire pit and warm string lights, baubles, decorations, and the spots of color from the neighbor's fruit tree that springs up and pokes over our stone wall. I can tell that these houses and yards are in a tight cluster, high up on a hill overlooking the town and the ocean (a la Greece?)

When I go down into traverse town it's daytime, and I fight enemies in a big open space with a pink checkered marble floor, bordered by rose bushes and bright fountains and railings, like a palace courtyard. I wish the camera depth of field would revert to hoe it was in Kingdom Hearts 1.