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.