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Dreams | First Time Flowing
 

All posts in Dreams

Scattershot

Come with me on a wander through some items related only by the virtue that they sprang from my head.

I awoke from a dream in which I was in a relationship with Claudia Black. Or maybe it was her character Vala Mal Doran. I don’t have a Claudia Black thing going on, but I had been watching the last season of Stargate SG-1 recently. It was one of those dreams with compressed time and a lot of ground was covered. In the end things didn’t work out and we were both unhappy. I woke up feeling genuinely down about the whole thing. I tried to find a message in it. Maybe she reminds me of someone.

I think I have too many apps on my iPad. Like over 150. I had this feeling the other day like I was at a bar staring down a trail of shot glasses that ended at my hand, like I might have a problem. If something I might like is 99 cents, I buy it without question, archiving it for later. With physical objects and media, I keep it spartan, but with the digital I am a pack rat. If there were a show called CyberHoarders, I would be on it. I have a little black box with a million worlds on it.

Since I don’t track the passage of time well, I have a suite of reminders on my phone and computer which tell me when to do things. Routines can be good right? But sometimes they seem like fences or mile markers. Hedges around my life or notches measuring the remainder of it.

Here is what I can’t forget to do:
1. Clean out the litter box (every 3 days)
2. Administer nasal sprays (twice a day, 1 dose followed by another 30 minutes later)
3. Clean out the Roomba (twice a week)
4. Take a 1 minute exercise break (every hour)
5. Go to Boards ‘n Brews (every Tuesday night)
6. Write a blog post (every Saturday)

I guess that isn’t too bad. I wish it also said 7. Make-out session (every…week?)

As I was doing some prep work for the components for the Dune game, I realized something that could be designed differently. The original game has a disc for each of the characters. Why a disc? So it can fit in the disc-shaped slot in the combat wheel. But why do it that way? Why not just put them on a card instead? You can put your card face down to keep it secret. And why do you even need this huge combat wheel? Why not a card-sized wheel like the life counters in Magic? So now you can just hold a hand of cards: your leader, your Treachery cards, and your combat wheel card. There is something neat about the discs and putting them in that slot, but when you take a step back it is really a bit convoluted and unnecessary.

No Soup for You

The other morning I realized that there is a sub-theme that I sometimes encounter within the hotel dream. Once in a while I will come across a buffet or a cafeteria. The cafeteria is usually closed, having just shut down or making preparations to open for the day. If I do make it to the cafeteria or buffet while they are open, most of the food is already gone. And if there is something I’ve been craving, they are most certainly out of that dish. Sold the last one just before I got there.

Bridges Dream

This isn’t actually a dream I had, but a dream in which I appeared. My new friend Anneke had a dream in which I had been commissioned to design dreamworlds. I would appear in the dreamworld as different objects that had my head (Cheshire cat style) and dispense clues.

One of the worlds was a field of rolling hills through which completely unnecessary channels had been dug. I had built bridges over the channels. I appeared to her as a bridge, explaining that the company intended to eventually charge pedestrians to cross the bridges. She realized that I had made the channels narrow enough that you could jump over them without paying the toll. I explained, in waking life, that this is exactly the sort of passive-aggressive thing I would do to subvert plans I found foolish yet I am for whatever reason obligated to follow.

A Tale of Two Hotels

The reoccurring hotel dream had a new twist last night. I was moving between one hotel and another. The new hotel had cascading fountains that were also steps outside the the perimeter. I walked along the wet edges, my suitcase splashing behind me. Once inside the lobby, I of course realized that I didn’t know what room I was supposed to stay in. More than that, I couldn’t remember the name of the hotel I was supposed to go to, so I wasn’t even sure if I was in the correct one. So I called my mom to find out the name of the hotel.

That’s all I remember about that dream before it turned into a dream about me and a group of resistance fighters in battle with a paramilitary group.

Stephen King Dream

The interesting other side of the bed dreams continue. Seems to be a lot more celebrity guest stars over there. In this one, Dave and I were hanging out with Stephen King. We were discussing a short story he wrote long ago. I couldn’t remember the name of it and neither could Stephen King because he had written so many of them. Then he had to go, but he let Dave and I peruse his computer game and board game collection, which was enviable.

Murder Truck Rally Dream

I’ve been sleeping on the other side of the bed lately and it has yielded some interesting dreams. This is one of them.

It was set in some desert town in New Mexico or Arizona. Somewhere that easily serves as the backdrop for post-apocalyptic films. I was hanging out with a bunch of hooligans, people I didn’t know in waking life. One of these friends persuaded me to drive a truck in the big monster truck rally the next day. I agreed. The rallies in this part of the world happened in football-size arenas and were gladiatorial duels which tested man and machine.
Continue reading →

Megan Fox Dream

I remember walking through a hilly area near a creek, like someplace back in the Midwest. I was talking to Megan Fox, but she was someone else. That is, whoever does casting for my dreams selected Megan Fox to play this character. We were just getting to know each other and there was vague romantic interest. She mentioned that she had a contagious illness and soon she wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone. I asked if I could be added to the list of potential kissers.

We walked to an old farmhouse, looking for my friend Jake. We found only traces of him like his baseball cap wedged inside a door handle. A group of serious-looking college frat boys sat around the table in one room, staring at me. Somehow I realized that they weren’t really human and they had killed Jake.

I went into the kitchen to discover than the Megan Fox girl had been replaced by Jake’s wife, Jenny. She was sitting in a rocking chair, knitting, while a tea kettle started to boil. I urgently explained that we needed to leave the house as it was the home of vampires or demons or whatever the frat boys actually were. They had killed Jake. She already knew about this and calmly explained that we needed to stay because Jake’s ghost now haunted the place. We needed to help him seek vengeance.

Suddenly my old-fashioned cell phone started vibrating in my breast pocket. Then it started to burn. This was Jake warning us to run for our lives.

I woke up.

Citation Needed

Recently I was forwarded this video about the exponential growth of information technology.  One of the facts presented in the video is that “It is estimated that 4 exabytes (4.0×10^19) of unique information will be generated this year. That is more than the previous 5,000 years.” My first reaction was, “Wow, that is a lot of data.” Today I thought, “What does that even mean?” What qualifies as “unique information”? A blog post? A novel? Who is quantifying it? And how? Do they mean more than the previous 5000 years combined? Or more information per year on average? Continue reading →

So Dry

I haven’t had any nightmares that I remembered for quite some time. In last night’s dream, my ex-wife had decided to return and move in with me. It was nice to see her, but I had moved on in my life and I was trying to think of a way to break the news to her that I didn’t want to be with her. I discussed this with my friends who were saddened by my decision, but also understanding.

I went to the bathroom to take a shower. While looking at myself in the mirror, I noticed that my skin was extremely dry. Marbled veins of dryness covered my body liked cracked earth during a drought. I frantically slathered moisturizing lotion all over me, spreading it on so thick it looked like I had crawled out from a vat of pancake batter. The pressure of this rubbing caused my skin to burst in places, sending heavy streams of blood down my face.

This was too much to handle so I called for my mother, who happened to be at my house at the time. She came into the bathroom and promptly slipped on the floor, falling, hitting her head on the edge of toilet. I carefully turned her around and propped her up. Her eyes were milky and opaque. She was blind.

Then I had some other dream, but this one stuck with me.

A Vast Expanse of Clouds

A dream from the other night has stayed with me and I occasionally examine its portents through the day like a new desktop toy.

Most of my dreams take place indoors. When they do occur outside, it is always dark, even during the middle of the day. In this dream, I was flying above the entire Earth. The Earth was sheathed in a thick blanket of clouds, so I did not know what country I flew over or my altitude. Around me was only cold and dark, perhaps of night, perhaps of space.

I descended into the cloud bank, feeling the clamminess of the air passing by. I could see lights below, a city. I worried that my poor understanding of geography had brought me over the Far East, where English was not spoken. I flew closer and alighted on a high balcony on one of the skyscrapers. I was in New York City.

Before the dream ended, I remember going inside through a service entrance and finding myself in the deserted halls of an office building. I remember wanting to call someone to tell them where I was.