Dreaming Away
Had a crazy amount of strange dreams a while back, and none of them were very much fun. Jotted down the following before I forgot them...
I was hanging around with a group of disabled people in a mental ward somewhere. We were all gathered in one large room at the top of a building, though before I reached the room I spent a large part of the dream just wandering through a long empty hallway; getting there. It was all very clinical. Hospital-like. But empty.
I accidentally bumped into one of the disabled guys at the end of the hallway, as he was somehow hiding behind a wall, or door, that I needed to bump heads with to get in. I shouldn't have had too though, as the hallway was wide and easy to maneuver, so I'm not sure how or why I bumped into him at all or felt like I had to within said dream.
In the room we met again. I talked to a few of the people there. At first I felt out of place, but the more I spoke to them the more fun I realized they were.
The guy from the hallway wanted me to help them, but I said that I'm no doctor. He started digging through drawers and bringing me things, like this heavy metal rod, which I surprisingly knew the name and purpose of, and impressed him (and myself) with my know-how thereof.
After being in the room for a while a warden/worker/caretaker came in and announced they were headed to Woodstock, which was in this alternative reality just past Stockholm, and wondered if I wanted to come with them. I'd driven there in the company minibus though (don't have a company minibus - another inconsistency of the mystery) and reluctantly said I needed to drive that back. But then I asked if they could drop me off at the station, as if that'd somehow circumvent the minibus problem? And so we were headed to Woodstock anyway. No problem.
Moments later we were in a both old and futuristic coastal down. The streets sloped downwards like in San Francisco, but the concrete structures and skyscrapers looked more like Tokyo. The streets were wide as in Latvia. A bit withered. The air a haze of pollution and the sidewalks of movement, though the stream of cars was sparse, and didn't match the sight of such a city at all.
Over the mountaintop we could see elevators moving up a slope, and impressive feats of architecture moving in their own accord. It was both impressive and dystopian somehow. The industrial yet optimistic and open milieu reminded me of Japan in the eighties, but everything was so much wider, and grander, and this entire city was built upon what seemed to be the slope of a steep mountain rather than a coast at all, leading down towards a steep drop or ravine.
We left the bus, and I lost sight of the group. I couldn't keep up. We went down a steep slope, then into an underground subway system, and suddenly we were split up.
I tried to move past people. I took a shortcut up a set of stairs instead of the escalator that ran beside it, but at the top of the stairs the ceiling swooped down, the walls went inwards, and on the dark yellow marble edges around a square hole with rounded corners there was a text that read something like: "I spy on you all the time".
No way I was crawling through that hole. I panicked. I turned back and headed down the stairs, pushing past a line of people, and I assume somewhat subconsciously shifted my dream to something somewhat more comfortable.
My girl was watching me when I woke up - in my dream, lying on her side facing me, stroking my chest. She looked a bit like Megan Fox. Said I'd had nightmares. I said she had too.
I don't know when I teleported after that, but somehow I was in @larrynachos room. He's an NG user I've spoken to before, but not recently at the time of this dream, and definitely not one I know very well.
I was still in his room though. There were lego-based letters on the window sill, though I didn't notice they were LEGO-based at first. They looked rounded, and in varying color. The l a r r y n ran in a squiggly line first, then there was something in the way, then a c h o s.
That's how I knew it was larrynachos.
Below the window sill there was a table covered with LEGO, and as I started going through the pieces I realized those title letters were LEGO too, and decided to stack them on top of each other, to make a horizontal larrynachos billboard.
It seemed like a great idea at first, and the letters changed form so they now had grooves on top of bottom that'd let you stick them together, but as I neared the end of my skyscraper they changed form again and suddenly they were just regular blocks of LEGO, and I started wondering if this was really a stable skyscraper structure after all. I accidentally broke one of the letters and the rest started crumbling. And that's when larrynachos entered the room.
Fortunately he wasn't as devastated as he could have been, and we had a good time. We talked, we built LEGO stuff, and I'm pretty sure there was something more to this particular segment of the dream but I no longer recall it.
At another point I was moving through tunnels.
I think my family was with me, or at least big brother David. As if in a game we moved from layer to layer, facing all sorts of foul monsters and flying beasts along the way. Some were parody-like, like a dungeon full of black Angry Birds that came at us with sharp claws, yet some were more grotesque, with melting floors of flesh-like texture.
I remember a lot of stages but no particular details. Don't know how we started this venture or where we left of.
I was in the woods too, up in my mother's home town, I believe, at a time and season where nobody was there, the air was cold, and the moon shone a blue light on the canvas of forestry around me. That was that. That's all I remember from that point in my dream.
And I was in a mountain house. Not sure where; not sure how, but it was a red and white cottage (traditional Swedish style) on a slope that started soft but grew to an alarming level of steepness. Our garden turned into a cliff, yet it was grass all the way, soft and rounded and seemingly safe until it just slipped away beneath your feat.
I was in the house with a few others, and we were experimenting with some form of injection. It was supposed to improve things, but it turns out it just made you crazy. We were all friends, though I didn't recognize the other people's faces at all.
The first friend laughed and killed himself. Not sure how. The second one, seeing this, tried to take the injection voluntarily. I realized they were probably under the influence even without an injection, and tried stopping him, knocking him unconscious.
It didn't work. He seemed to want to kill us as much as he wanted to kill himself, but always with a smile on his face. No regrets. No remorse. Just like the well-rounded carpet of grass that sloped off into oblivion he'd decided to move on to the next plane of existence with a smile on his face. Feel the soft grass under your feet and just slip away.
Maybe that was when I woke up and my girl was stroking my chest, telling me I'd had a nightmare. Déjà vu.
There was more, but at this point in writing it seems I've forgotten the rest.
Dreams are a fickle thing. And what do they mean? If you can make anything out of this be my guest. For once I really am curious... and a little distressed.
Over what you might find this implies in regard to my mind.