Sony Disc 18 Dream

Dreamland had a big party and I don’t remember everything. Basically my grandparents Davis’ house, and the kitchen was a living room. All of the cabinets and where the stove were had a bunch more cabinets, and we had a lot of books and storage information.

I’d just met up with one of the two really tall guys that we all knew from the parallel universe. He had a Sony video recorder that used Disc 18 which was basically an 18 inch analog laser disk. It had a 10 inch LCD on the other side. It had a 1.8 inch camera lens on one of the edge near the corner.

It had hand straps on both sides so it was easy to hold while watching playback. The recording quality was excellent, but it was a little bit of an older unit. Everything had been replaced with digital and gotten more compact but the guy who had it really liked it and wasn’t ready to make the change.

Another one of the guys had a special type of mask that he was trying to use so that he would be allowed to formally date his girlfriend from the other universe, but he kept forgetting to wear it, and was probably going to get denied.

The mask had a patch of blue surgical mask fabric that covered almost the entire bridge of the nose as a sort of clamp to hold it in place. It had elastic straps down to a small patch that cover just the nostrils and then another elastic patch that maybe hung off the lip or something.

I’m having trouble remembering exactly but it seems like possibly everyone from both universes maybe had more than two nostrils. This is one of those things that you just kind of don’t remember the details because it is so mundane.

It was all very vivid and probably spawned by some memories from when I looked up my moms house on Google Maps the other day, as there were similar memory feels, and vivid connections between the houses.


Weird dream hiding

Dream, running around, trying the key fob at night in a sketchy hood. Can’t find the Lambo my roommate bought.

As the dream unfolds, I’m slinking around at night with a hitman gangster (broad shouldered, Italian muscle man) looking for my roommate because he STOLE the car, and a wireless access point, from some rich kingpin.

We’re peering through dead vines crowding a light pole, and climbing over crumbling fences with house demo trash trying to not be too visible to the choppers searching.

Too hot for both of us, so trying to gtfo. We go into his apt, looking fot his keys. His apt is an old Crab Shack, but they don’t sell crabs anymore, only pig lips and assholes.

Anyway, this guy can’t believe the roomie is impossible to find, but just wants out. Song plays like a Vegas show “I ain’t got no… GASOLIIIIIIINNNNNEEE”

Meanwhile, I’m pissed at the roommie, but this ass hole will never find him anyway. My roommate is me, just an alternate personality.

Keep your enemies close, eh?


Travel dream

I was given an assignment, and had just traveled. I was in an auditorium at the travel center near the air terminals. Talking to people while waiting to be clearerd in, and I looked at my watch. I suddenly realized my mother was alive in this year. I showed my excitement, and gathered my things. I had just enought time to visit.

I made my way to the sky train that would lead me to the exit, but I was denied entrance. My wallet had a small bit of wear inside one flap, and these two said it was a fire hazard. I could not tell if they were toying with me to be rude, or because their friend worked at the wallet shop. They warned me to not try to sneak my wallet past them in my luggage. There would be penalties.

Angrily, I made my way out of line, and let GPS figure out where I was. Only two shops available. One closed 15 minutes ago. The other was open. It was a strange but well appointed place, yet they had no slippers. I had to walk around in my socks. They had only one wallet. I could poke my finger through it, and it had no RFID shielding. It was expensive, and would never pass scrutiny. They did have a large portfolio, but I had no way to carry that.

By the time I was done, I had no wallet, and no way out until those two changed shift unless I was willing to throw away my wallet in front of them. I was missing my chance. I marched up to them and sternly told them they were a disgrace, and dishonored their families.

And then I woke up.


Modern Crusade Dream

We were at a Western hotel in Mumbai. The staff were white, and everything catered to the wealthy. Business was off, so we got to visit sometimes for lunch. Something happenned to the staff, and the east side dining hall got no service for hours after seating patrons.

The manager comped four tables, including ours, and gave us a his card. It said we could come in after 11:30pm and before 2:30 am to get leftovers and seconds (errored orders) buffet style for free. But, really, we could come in by 9:30pm, and until 5:30am. Lots of leftovers due to slow business.

This helped because we were always busy in the slums, and never knew when we’d get back. We were a mercenary tactical / investigation team, with not as much budget as we’d like, but enough to get what we needed. A bit of extra time in the fancy hotel was welcome.

We were at odds with the CIA, so we were on alert when we found the two familiar agents standing in our equipment room. They were fatigued, and just said, “load up.”

A Christian extremist group was hunting internationally, kidnapping members of our team, and forcing them to call in warnings. “Do not touch us! Do not touch us!”

We would find the team member, and we would have 10 minutes to query them, look through pockets, etc. Then they would get confused, seize, foam at the mouth, and die. If we touched them, it was contagious, and would get the next person. There would always be awriting, in Arabic, that said “do not touch us”.

This time, they needed our help. The extremists seemed nearly impossible to identify, but always left a subtle clue. We needed more than just that they hated Arabs, they considered themselves Christians, and that they were very well funded.


Spacetime Dream

I had one of those dreams during waking that was both vivid and meaningful. It was in a village, with many people around. Standing inside, but near the lip of a basin. There were trees, complex terrain, but not a lot of big rocks. Everything was lush and green in the late afternoon, early evening. Before dusk, but no direct beams of light seen.

The basin wasn’t actually a basin. It was curved spacetime. Gravity did not “feel” strange, but it did “look” like we would walk down into the basin to go forward. Left and right seemed normal. Perhaps the Earth had become a Mobius Strip in spacetime, not a torus. We were looking across the gap from the inside.

There was no Sun in this universe. It just became brighter and darker over time. Shadows were always towards the center of the strip, but if you looked behind you, you would see the curce of the Earth going upwards.

We were looking up at the moon. The moon was physically smaller, but seemed much larger because of how close it was. It took up maybe 5-10 degrees of arc worth of the sky. The moon travelled perpetually in the center, because really, it stayed stationary. The Earth’s surface rotated continually, almost flowed, across the Mobius, dragging atmosphere with it.

Left to right, there were lots of cirrus clouds, with a thick line of them. You could see the clouds striking and billowing against the line of clouds. No dust was coming off of the moon, and it was very dense — more massive than IRL.

In the distance, instead of blackness, or stars, it was the darkest blue. You could see the lights of night-time, creating an outline of the entire continent of Africa, isolated, without Europe nearby. It was almost directly across it seemed, but it was also up vertically because of the curvature.

We understood, all of this in a way, because we had grown up with it. This was still an amazing sight, just like IRL how people get excited for a solar eclipse, or a blood moon, or a comet, or a meteor shower, or any other less common movements.


Dream: Time Travel to Isol

Had a dream where I was time travelling in my dream, and I got to hand our with my grandmother who IRL died when I was 8. Giant hugs were had. I got to see her as a fearless young woman, and she was testing out some roof slats on a shed before putting on the metal. I explained to her the other times I would dream visit as a kid and such, then showed her a bunch of modern technology. Dream grandmother was modelled after an acquaintance of mine who reminds me of her, and is pretty amazing. Dream prompt was probably connected because my IRL diet drug cancellation was due to slight cancer risk, and my maternal grandmother died of cancer (metastic colon cancer in the brain).

Dream: Time Travel to Isol

Had a dream where I was time travelling in my dream, and I got to hand our with my grandmother who IRL died when I was 8. Giant hugs were had. I got to see her as a fearless young woman, and she was testing out some roof slats on a shed before putting on the metal. I explained to her the other times I would dream visit as a kid and such, then showed her a bunch of modern technology. Dream grandmother was modelled after an acquaintance of mine who reminds me of her, and is pretty amazing. Dream prompt was probably connected because my IRL diet drug cancellation was due to slight cancer risk, and my maternal grandmother died of cancer (metastic colon cancer in the brain).

Dream: Mark Hamish synth dogs

Lost most of the details, but we were at a party, restaurant was Josh Vernon’s, brass and marble. Well lit, open floor mingling, our company had the whole place. It was in a mall, but so was my company, a research firm.

My boss was not there, but his dogs were. They were getting sick, throwing up if they ate. We could not reach him on the phone, and no-one knew where he was.

I went to find him, but his office was torn apart. I found his research that indicated he had engineered them to starve to death. I could not believe he had not euthanized them.

I kept looking, and found him with the board if directors, and I laid into him, telling him he was horrible, etc etc. I knew I’d just resigned, so I left in a rush.

Somehow, between leaving, and getting out, I knew he was dead, andbthey thought I did it. My DNA was all over his office, and I took his jacket, because he was an ass, because it was cold, and because I could not find my jacket.

Ecxept, by the time I cleared out my locker, it was not cold out, and I was now wearing his jacket over mine. Two people asked me why I was wearing Hamish’s jacket, and I made up stories.

I just had to get out. I knew I was going to be investigated for his death now. I was sort of lost, but finally made it to a bar that was opening, and could pass from the “mall”, theough the bar, to the parking lot.

The lines were huge, so I just went for the compact car lot, because it openned first. I could not get to my car from there, but when I walked to the far edge of the lot, my mom, aunt, and sister saw me, and they drove over ti get me in their big SUV. They heard Mark Hamisch had died, and knew I would be upset.


Modern Crusade Dream

We were at a Western hotel in Mumbai. The staff were white, and everything catered to the wealthy. Business was off, so we got to visit sometimes for lunch. Something happenned to the staff, and the east side dining hall got no service for hours after seating patrons.

The manager comped four tables, including ours, and gave us a his card. It said we could come in after 11:30pm and before 2:30 am to get leftovers and seconds (errored orders) buffet style for free. But, really, we could come in by 9:30pm, and until 5:30am. Lots of leftovers due to slow business.

This helped because we were always busy in the slums, and never knew when we’d get back. We were a mercenary tactical / investigation team, with not as much budget as we’d like, but enough to get what we needed. A bit of extra time in the fancy hotel was welcome.

We were at odds with the CIA, so we were on alert when we found the two familiar agents standing in our equipment room. They were fatigued, and just said, “load up.”

A Christian extremist group was hunting internationally, kidnapping members of our team, and forcing them to call in warnings. “Do not touch us! Do not touch us!”

We would find the team member, and we would have 10 minutes to query them, look through pockets, etc. Then they would get confused, seize, foam at the mouth, and die. If we touched them, it was contagious, and would get the next person. There would always be awriting, in Arabic, that said “do not touch us”.

This time, they needed our help. The extremists seemed nearly impossible to identify, but always left a subtle clue. We needed more than just that they hated Arabs, they considered themselves Christians, and that they were very well funded.


Dreams of Heroes

Ending fragment.  Guy like a cross between The Punisher and Star Lord.  I was his friend.  He was having some struggles, and his car would not start.  I looked at is, spotless under the hood, cavernous even, and all simple.  There was not enough under the hood to go wrong.  It was just a matter of running way too rich, so it would not even start.  Clouds of half-burnt fuel would spurt out of the intake, sputter, lop, die.

He wandered off, comfused and conflicted, while I troubleshot it.  There was a small, compact, spark control computer as part of the distributor.  I figured that had failed, but maybe if we opened up the throttle, it would at least stay running.  There was not a usual air filter, rather a yellow box, with a key on it.  Again, spotless, shiny.  Far too small to filter that much airflow, it must be an EM field generator that actively cleans the air.

I went to find him to get the key, and he’s wandered out back, hood pulled up.  I followed, and he’d gone to track someone down.  Through some alleyways, etc I followed.  The dream is faded as to whether he kicked some ass, or could not find them.  But, I followed him to the back gate, put my gand on his shoulder, and someone else spun around.

She was a shapeshifter.  She had been drawn to our place.  Others came, a green woman, a woman who’s skin looked like a concert hall inside out.  She traveled by playing a violin.   The feeling and nuancel directed her vehicle.  Ther were many others, but I walked past as they mingled, up to the small shop that was my friend’s home.

“It’s an honourable intent lockout,” I said.  He had been conflicted, and had decided to seek revenge.  The car could not support that.

He was frustrated, almost indignant, but he knew it made sense.  He felt hopeless about it.

“I’m your sidekick.  I’m here to help you through this.”  He was my friend, and it would take time.  The others who came would help.  We were not looking for trouble.  We just wan to help when situations arise.