Immortality and Feet Creek

I had a weird dream this morning where I was with an immortal guy, but he was so old, he forgot he was immortal. Business people burned down his big house, and he wandered out back in the moonlight to the water’s edge… Further down the shore were some stone ruins that were his house from when the peasants burned his home for him living too long… There was a short woman who helped guide us through time travel back to each stage in his life, until eventually learning about how he’d started as a wildling in these very woods. We were sitting at a table as she helped him remember. I told the 4th person there with us that I was hiding my feet in the leaves, because the moist clay was so cold.

Erica told me she was sorry she woke me up, but I advised I probably eould not have remembered or experienced the dream. I woke from the floor creaking under her feet, but I said “I woke from your feet creak.”

And for the last three hours, we have been talking about the majesty of Feet Creek, and how only the freshest feet will do. The freshest feet with bulbous heels are served, but the bony parts are gifted to the peasants to make feet stew. We are all grown from feet, and I was lucky to have been grown from the freshest feet. Feet are inexpensive here near Feet Creek, but people far away often struggle due to shipping delays. Instead of being moist, spongy, with soft cartillage, they are tough, dry and bony.

feet.

feet feet.


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.


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).

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.


Weird dream

Middle of the dream… family and I were meeting up for dinner. The place was similar to a Cracker Barrel, except it was upscale. Lots of wood, but more open space, different kinds of goods, and I think there was a Casino off the other side.

The waiter was someone we know. He called me by name, and I recognized him. I think he was an uncle. I think he was also Gene Hackman.

The table we were seated at, the four of us, was about 2 feet on a side. Basically, food came out one person at a time, except drinks and desserts. Khai had trouble deciding, and I ended up with the grilled salmon because of some change I wanted or would want, was easier on that.

After, we ended up at a Christmas partly. Lots of people, drinking, etc. And then someone died. Cue murder mystery, and before the police arrived, someone figured out the guy’s wife had poisoned him. There were $6m worth of $125k bearer bonds or similar in the stocking, and she wanted them. Except, in the process of explaining this, whomever figured out what happened lost track of the wife. Police showed up, and the wife had slipped away, with the bonds.

At the end, I was unpacking my own stocking. About 20 things in there, including what looked like a small Champagne bottle, with a plastic nozzle on it. It was Chilled Baby Wash. Also, a bottle with what looked like a thin roll of toilet paper on it. It was liquid toilet paper, or butt wash. Several other things in there, but the last present I opened was a phone call. Not a phone. Not a recording of a call. The call itself.

Anyway. I know there was a bunch more I missed. Lighting was dim, and colors were subdued, leaning towards blues, greys, but not exclusively.


Dream of Pixels

In a lab, there’s a gold mine. But, it’s not a mine exactly. It’s a cylinder with rounded edges, about 18″ in diameter, and in length, flat faces up/down, floating about waist height in a room. There’s a pedestal under it. If you approach, you see down into the pedestal into an apparently infinite space. There is a lensing effect around the object, and there are suspended chunks of gold around it of varying sizes. They can be pushed and moved, but they bounce back to their original location. Sometimes they shift and change size on their own.

It’s all fairly industrial: concrete floors, computer stations around the edges, subdued lighting. I notice some primary color pixellation and difraction around the interface edges of the object as we head to a non-containment room, but just figure that’s normal. Through various brainstorms, the object comes to be thought of as aware. It responds to us, but not in a way we understand. Hands near it, and it changes. Time to head out, because we don’t know if it’s safe to stay around it for very long.

The lab manager is my ex girlfriend, or something like that. It’s complicated. She looks just like Gwyneth Paltrow, only a little taller, or maybe I’m a little shorter. I’m not me, but I feel like me. I was removed from the project lead for no real reason, or maybe every reason. But, she’s letting me in because it’s too amazing to keep to herself, and they need help. No one else is making any progress on these. Yes, there’s a second one in another room.

I’m really excited, but GP stops to remind me that everything has to go through her. This is a trial involvement, and I cannot just do things with it, nor make decisions on it. I’m excited, but the limitations are tough. I apologize, say I understand, and blurt out that my thoughts were that a machine could be used to just reach in and scrape out the gold. She completes the sentence with me, and kisses me.

I like it, but something is wrong. I see bits of colored static, smaller pixels than in the containment room, here now too.

I realize the device is a computer of sorts. It’s simulating the universe immediately around us, and so long as we are near it, we are affected by any errors in the simulation.

She sees it, and I ask about “shutting it down”, but no one knows how to. In fact, there’s no one around us. The elevator is open, lit, but does not do anything. There’s a window with curtains, looking out into… a warehouse? What? No, now it’s sunlight, but there are pixels around the borders.

I’ve been thinking about the device, and realize it can read my mind. I name it “Pixels” in my mind, and call out to it in fear and exasperation. Continued realizations, not sudden, gradual, as if I’ve thought of all of the possibilities, and realize it is alive, and our entire universe is a simulation. The simulator is crashing, and the device is trying really hard to preserve us.

Stray specks are showing up in the room. I imagine that they would hurt going through me, but I don’t seem to ever make contact with one. We try to open the windows, but they’re not real. We’re stuck. Only this one last room exists. We cannot even reach the simulation interface anymore. Yes, that’s what the objects are: an interface for controlling the simulation from inside.

We’re frantic, but there does not seem to be anything we can do. As I wake up, I realize we had all moved into the simulation when the universe was winding down for us. Not us, per se, but our many-great grandparents. The universe had finally wound down enough, and there’s no repairing. This was the end of the end.


Lorry Dream

Looking out the window. The house was my mon’s house, but the garage was Mr. Bridgeforth’s house.

I see a big, blue truck driving up, sideways.  The front two wherls are turned sideways, and the back two are off the ground.  This way, they pull right up into the driveway.

I get to the inside garage door in time to see the loading ramp fully extended.  It bumps into a rectangular folding table, the particle board kind, and then pushes back another inch, compressing/denting.

They deliver whatever it is (cannot see for some reason.)  Then, they backbup at an angle and mash into my Flex’s bumper.

“HEY!  WATCH OUT!”, I say.

The fork lift guy just says, “No Problem.”  It’s heavily accented in local Spanish, and with a big smile.

“Fuck you!  It is a problem!  Este auto es me babe! Me amo lo!”

“Ehhh.  Get a Suburban S.”

Then I woke up.

There was more Spanish but I am not as fluent as my dream self.


Dream

Failed a class because I could not get my lines for an Ozeri production of Romeo and Juliette.

I was scrambling to find a hardcopy, or PDF. Instructor was not helping. Others in the production said I did not need the lines. I angrily said I knew NO lines and only had a hour left to study them.

I was finishing looking through a pile of books on a cart when the production was over. Everyone was disapponted because I my part was skipped. Josh E. was there, helping clean up.

Somehow, I transitioned to cleaning a messy commercialspace with incomplete floors, piles of supplies. I really needed to just hire someone to do the flooring. This was my home.

I had to warn the kids and a couple of their friends to stay back. I had spilled dilute sulfuric acid. Somehow, I was naked and had to keep rinsing everytime I spilled.

I found a bag of bicarb to sprinkle around, but as I was almost done, I realized it was ground coffee instead. Too late to worry about staining the carpet.