2/28/2023 -
First I'm hanging out with all these fellow NBA nerds and they're all discussing how disappointing it's been to be a die hard fan of their teams over the last 20 years or so. We're all sitting in individual chairs separated a decent amount away from one another in this corporate conference room type environment with this really cool blue patterned carpet. So they're going around talking about the frustrations of being super fans of their terminally middling franchises when it gets to me and I'm like:
"Uhhh, I live in Seattle. I'm a Supersonics fan. Sorry, I sort of got y'all here. At least you still have teams to root for, you know?"
And with this all of them are all:
"Oh wow, that's rough man. Sorry. You got us beat for sure."
And with this my perspective shifts into a detached disembodied state. I'm sort of like a floating black hole but I can feel these calculations processing at rapid speeds. An AI entity is contemplating the situation and quickly chimes in. It agrees. Being a Supersonics fan is in fact worse than any of the other participant's situations.
It has another conclusion though, which is?
"Being a Supersonics fan is roughly as bad as being a Maggie Estep fan."
I ummm, I actually feel the need to explain this reference. Maggie Estep was a minorly popular spoken word artist in the 90's who died at age 50 in 2014. I actually even saw her perform at the University of Santa Cruz back in 1995. Was I a big fan? Not really, I was just bored and she was performing on campus. I remember it being decidedly OK.
What a random reference to come up in my dream life. I will say though that there's a decent commentary on the limitations of AI intelligence going down. It's not like this declaration doesn't make sense on some level. Both the Supersonics and Maggie Estep are things that were popular in the 90's but no longer exist. Outside of that, the connection makes zero sense.
Anywho, now I'm at this odd resort that I'm realizing I frequent quite a bit in my dream life. I honestly have zero explanation for why this is or where it came from other than that it sort of reminds me of the riverfront area in Spokane, where I've taken a few vacations at this point as my wife loves hot weather. That's my best guess but on this occasion my brother has an idea for an activity. There's a drug tunnel to Mexico on the south end of the complex. A lot of other residents have used it to take a day trip over the border and he wants to give it a whirl.
I'm definitely conflicted about this and become more conflicted when we get to the entrance. It's a really small tunnel with large rocks blocking the passageway that you continually have to navigate around. In seeing the reality of the sitch I'm almost more on the fence.
Honestly my main concern is that it's really cramped and if other people were coming in the opposite direction it'd be super awkward. My brother consults his phone and tells me that AI is telling him that we should go through with it. This influences me in no way but I agree to go along with the plan anyway.
When we get to Mexico it's now even more odd because it's very much like an airport or some sort of official border crossing. Wouldn't the point to a drug tunnel be to bypass this? I don't know but what I do know is that very quickly after I enter this environment I run into a guy I haven't seen in years. He's walking in the other direction when I catch him and it is amazingly synchronous. Like, wow, if I show up 1 minute later this synchronicity never would have happened. We catch up a bit and he takes us to a touristy store to do some shopping. Browsing through bright blue colored t-shirts that are very similar to the one the guy is wearing is the last thing I remember.
I wake up going: Did AI cause this sync to happen? Then I realize that no, we had planned this before the AI said it was a good idea and it's influence made no impact on my decision to continue with the plan. But did us consulting it slow us down to the point that we caught my old party bro? In that case, the sync had absolutely nothing to do with the AI itself. Fascinating food for thought though.
3/1/2023 -
An utterly insane series of dream vignettes.
First I'm eating Thanksgiving dinner with a family I'm not super familiar with. There's a fairly large gathering of us sitting at multiple tables. I get my food and sit down at the secondary circular table. I eat a few of the sides before realizing that I haven't eaten any of the turkey and done the polite thing where I compliment the chef's work. So I take a few bites and am like:
"Mmmm, this is excellent. Delicious."
But when I do everyone laughs as if I've made a joke and I have no idea why.
I'm now in a bathroom but rather than looking like a bathroom that would be in a house, it seems like it's in an old brick public building. So I pee and as I'm walking over to the sinks to wash my hands there's suddenly an enormous multi pronged pipe in my hands. WTF? This can't be good but also, how the hell did this happen? Everything seemed to be working a second ago but I go back over to the toilet and can tell that it is now absolutely non-functional. I don't know what to make of this so I go to wash my hands and look in the mirror. I've got much grayer hair than I do now but I look thin, which I'm satisfied with.
Now I'm in a 7-11 with the intention of buying a Slurpee. I'm in the back of the store when my friend walks over with his Coca Cola Slurpee and nudges me in the ribs. He informs me that the clerk clearly has a crush on me. I look to the counter and can tell just by a cursory glance that he's right. She's a much younger moderately attractive woman who unfortunately has terrible hair. One of those situations where you can kind of tell she has very little control over this. Some people just have crappy hair naturally. It's a thing and in her case it's this super thick reddish frizzy unmanageable mess. Again though, it's not like she's bad looking despite this, even wearing her standard green corporate smock.
For some reason, even though I'm not interested I still want to play it cool because I'm flattered. And so I walk over and order a Slurpee and she serves it up bar style. Why I can't pour the thing myself like in a typical 7-11 I have no idea. She hands it to me smiling, I pay, and as I'm heading out the door sort of tip the beverage in her direction acting as suave as I can and say:
"Fantastic. Thanks!"
As I'm walk out the door taking a sip. Except that it's this weird pink flavor that I've never tried before and honestly I'm not super sold. Should've tried something else.
Now I'm looking at an open grassy field with mountains in the background on a sunny day, except that in the vision, essentially layered on top of the scenery in an alternate dimension are these 5 drone robot things all in a row. They all look like very cutesy metallic insects but on some level I know that their entire purpose is to destroy cities Godzilla style. I have no idea how I know this but I think to myself:
"Well, at least if those things were going to destroy your city it'd be sort of adorable."
I'm now Bob Odenkirk sitting in a messy office in an older building. The whole thing looks like a classic bureaucracy situation from years back. I have a messy desk with papers all over it and there's a young woman who looks a lot like Jenna Ortega sitting across from me. This is some sort of interview or meeting or something and I stand up and move to her side of the desk with 2 roughly 12 oz glasses of water in my hands.
"Okay, dunk your right hand in this glass of water. Now dunk it in this glass of water."
She complies with this request and after she does I inform her:
"All right, you're now cleared to incarnate into the human realm if you wish to."
Then I wake up.
3/2/2023 -
I'm once again in my old basement apartment with my wife and pretty much immediately I'm like:
"What are we doing here? We need to get out of here. We don't live here anymore!"
What's interesting though is that somehow the situation doesn't make me go lucid. I actually explain to her that I just feel this intuitively and she needs to trust me. Except that on another level I know that I feel this way precisely because I've dreamt it 100 times before.
Anyway, I do convince her to leave and on our way out I run into our landlord, except in this situation our landlord is now a young Ozzy Osbourne with his hair dyed bright red. He explains to me that we do have to leave and even takes me back in to show me some renovations he's made to the place, which involve a lot of colored fake fur and I must confess, are pretty fucking fantastic.
"Cool"
I tell him and head back for the door but when I get outside it's almost like he's warped past me and has been waiting for me for a bit with his arms folded in contemplation.
"You know what? Y'all can hang here as long as you want."
He tells me.
"Thanks Oz!"
I reply. Now I'm at an unspecified type of store waiting for my wife to finish some shopping. It's taking a while and so I decide I might as well browse around. Maybe they have some CD's. I head back and have to pass through this security checkpoint. What kind of store is this? It looks like shelves and shelves stacked with servers of various sizes but hey, it does look like they have a decent CD selection somehow. I'm going to ignore the fact that all the CD's look like CD sized computer hardware.
As I proceed to the music section I notice something off putting though. There's a slick looking white dude on the other side of the store dressed in all black that's either going to try and assassinate or rob me. I have no idea how I know this but I spot it immediately. I go back outside to call my security team to take care of the matter and the weird thing is, I know he's going to try and take me out at my new place, not the old basement apartment.
The second I call this in, in my mind's eye I now see a black sports car that looks sort of like a classic Mazda MX-5 (I had to look it up) dispatch to hunt this dude down. It is screaming through the city streets.
Now the perspective shifts and I'm the hunter. I'm the guy coming to kill me. I'm in this blue van (again with the blue vans) driving through these Seattle beach adjacent streets in a quiet neighborhood. I'm a bit nervous about coming to kill me, but it's not too bad. Just a slight tinge of nerves and uneasiness. What's fascinating though is that I'm also in this dude's head.
I know there's a sports car coming to take him out. Maybe that's the nervousness he's feeling. I'm just waiting for it and yep, there it is. The black two seater just whipped around the corner a ways back screeching in ridiculous Hollywood stunt driver fashion as it did. The assassin doesn't even notice but I'm honestly wondering how it's going to successfully take this van out in these sort of cramped city conditions.
As I'm wondering this another car is approaching from the opposite direction. It's this red sports car of the same model driven by the boringest looking white people imaginable which I can tell is a form of urban camouflage. They're trying to look as innocuous as possible so when they pull in front of the van flagging him down he's slightly confused for a second. That's when the black sports car blocks him in from behind. From there I black out with the implication that they case him but have to confess: I didn't actually witness this. Maybe he was more valuable alive.
More than anything, I can't emphasize enough how ridiculously arty and over the top this sequence was. And unlike any human form of art, it was the feeling that sold it the most. Pure exhilaration. When I'm shot back into a waking state in my bed I'm simultaneously feeling the terror of the guy who was about to potentially get iced and the relief of knowing the threat to my life was successfully thwarted. This sort of sensation only happens in dreams.
I wake up after this and am informed that I need to contemplate this dream on a metaphorical level. The next morning I do and I genuinely think I understand. Ozzy Osbourne, the prince of darkness. Psychic security forces. All of this tracks with in tune with things I've been shown in the past.
When I get back under I'm back in the basement apartment and my wife is cooking a delicious salmon dinner. Damn those are some thick ass cuts of fish. It looks phenomenal but I do think to myself, she cooked this in that shitty kitchen? We don't even have a dining room table to eat it at here. We're going to eat it on tray tables on the couch like we used to. It does look fucking delicious though. Healthy too.
3/3/2023 -
I'm some sort of disembodied consciousness looking down on a man praying in the designated sacred prayer corner of his bedroom from a distanced 3rd person perspective. It all looks very much like a video game world to me or even just high end graphic art. The scene looks cool but intentionally not like what we know as waking reality. Not as high resolution and I can see right through the walls of the house and they're cut out in just such a way that I can view the important action. Sort of like in the game Disco Elysium now that I'm thinking about it. There's a distinct metaphor that to me, from this perspective, this world is almost like a video game or at least fictional in some capacity.
I'm scanning his mind and I can only do this because he's put himself in this elevated prayer state. This opens a black hole in his head that I can then peer into. I'm looking for something very specific in regards to his collected history in this realm. In certain past lives, some individuals engaged in this very specific plot line, which during these scans looks sort of like an elongated arty emblem of sacred fire.
I know that this represents a specific narrative in his history, very much like a badge in a video game for completing a certain rare side mission. And again, this is something that happened in a past life. It couldn't have been in the current reality as maybe it's not even sort of on the same time table? I suppose if I knew the game I might now that he couldn't have made it to where he is now as he's passed the point where that mission is still playable.
I know intuitively that finding this is fairly rare and it's made particularly difficult by the fact that most people in our society don't put themselves into the states of consciousness necessary for entities like me to even poke around. I absolutely get the impression that I have this fire emblem power up badge and some entity is showing me why it's associated with me from its perspective. I got the impression it was trying to recruit these sort of player characters for a very specific reason. Ahh, the idea that something much larger than you is actually writing your reality. It's the very thing even our greatest mystics struggle to wrap their heads around but wrap their heads around it they must. Their minds must be opened by reaching for the divine and the more that people engage in various forms of mysticism, the more this is possible.
Later I'm at a back yard barbeque party. At some point someone drunkenly nails a Bob Odenkirk line from Mr. Show (which I just watched through in the last several weeks) in the exact right context at the exact right moment. We'll all howl laughing and as the laughter dies down I go:
"Oh my god, Bob Odenkirk is one of my favorite people ever."
Except that the second I do this my consciousness leaves my body. I'm now looking down at the party from above and honestly it looks pretty boring. Just bland ass white people shit. No sauce. The important thing is that when my consciousness detaches I'm immediately embarrassed by my comment about Odenkirk as I've never actually scanned his soul. All I know is the art he made in this one incarnation of himself. I mean, that shit is excellent but what do I know really? His psychic history might be a total shit show.
What's funny is that the embarrassment I'm feeling derives from me not wanting to seem like a philistine. It's like saying that a book that you've never actually read is one of your favorite books. I have no idea. Maybe if you scan the history of BO's reincarnation cycle through the skin world it's fucking tits. Maybe it's mostly kind of bland or creepy. I don't actually know if I just made an ass out of myself or not.
3/4/2023 -
I'm inside of this glowing angelic entity with another gentlemen and we're examining its mechanical heart. The entire environment looks like this arty depiction of glowing light surrounded by billowing clouds. We're in a bright, glowing, circular fog filled room and in the middle is this grey metallic contraption that sort of looks like a sophisticated padlock with a diamond glow coming out of the center.
The dude I'm with is apparently a mechanical heart technician and he's explaining to me there's nothing actually wrong with the thing.
"See these notches up here? If there was something technically wrong with the hardware, there'd be a record of it here but there isn't."
I'm looking at these icons on the top of the locked heart device and they look like little engravings of cookie cutter house shaped icons with no detail. I somehow know that he's right and there'd be some recorded detail of an issue in this odd hieroglyphic log if there was in fact anything wrong with the hardware. So the problem must be something else.
I briefly wake up and when I get back under we're now on another level of astral reality. The best I could describe this would be we're disembodied consciousness floating in a white world of sentient television static with neon colored sparkles continually radiating through the essence of it all. Somehow in digging into specific patterns associated with the vibes we find the answer. She's doing this to herself. But why? In a liminal state I'm told:
"Barbados"
Which I take it to mean that she took one hell of a weird vacation into the strange depths of the skin world. Or she desperately wants to die so she can finally get a vacation from this odd nightmare she's embarked on.
We can't tell on this level of reality so we hone into a new level that's roughly akin what we call the waking world. Here she comes across like a slightly different version of the crazy cat lady from The Simpsons, even looking animated rather than "real" for the lack of a better term. The design is definitely a reference to that Simpsons character but it's also a slight variation on purposes. She's slightly less ragged but we ask her about why she's been breaking her own heart. Her answer is predictably completely incoherent. On this level of reality she has no idea.
I wake up briefly and fall back under. A mother's son stops over for a visit and when she tries to explain to him all the pressing problems facing the world, he walks over to the couch and falls pleasantly asleep. He's smiling so contentedly.
Later in the night I'm shown a bone chilling scene. This creep is selling access to these imprisoned naked women and a whole group of other creeps have paid up and are going to rape them indiscriminately.
Lord. I worry about my mom's health. She was apparently raped in a mental institution well before I was born. Now she's a lunatic anti-vaxxer who constantly sends me links to racist shit that I ignore. She raised me to be the exact opposite of that. I don't think either she or I contemplate what caused her to go so deliriously crackers on a conscious level. Here they're making me. This is the Invisible College history class I'd apparently been blowing off for decades. Maybe I shouldn't have been blowing that off as it turns out.
3/5/2023 -
From an elevated vantage point I'm looking down at all these portal hurricane worlds. This isn't the first time this exact visual metaphor has presented itself to me. These realms look like larval hurricanes with translucent boundaries around them. There are tons of them but I need to get this particular entity into this very particular portal. That is the only use I have for all these worlds at the moment. There is one particular student (and now I'm getting the vibe there are like classes at a school) and he needs to take this one very particular class. Except that there's a label on this course flagging it as restricted access, which comes across as this clearly visible black and white warning sign on the top of the portal. Not everyone can take this class and I get the vibe it's not going to be super easy for me to get this student a slot but I have to try.
Later I'm in The Invisible College. I'm in the middle of my second class of the day when it hits me. Not only have I barely been paying attention during the classes as per the usual but I have another course to go to after this one and it's the one I know I'm really supposed to be attending. Since I've already attended the first two though, I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to swing the 3rd one as I'm supposed to be working from home and have been pretending to work from home the entire time.
There's no way I can now hit the third class and have my job not notice, in fact, I'm not sure how I've managed to pull off attending the first two. Except that why? Why did I attend the first two? I know that I'm only supposed to be going to the history class. That was the point and yet here I am again, fucking it up by taking too many classes.
This anxiety leads me to look around the classroom. I am now consumed with a profound sense of shame and embarrassment. Why? Why am I doing this? It's so embarrassing. I already passed these classes. Why am I taking them again? I realize how strange and abnormal this is and also that it's derived from some odd internal compulsion.
Most people graduate from school and then move on while I'm OCD compelled to always be in school, even in situations where it serves no purpose. I'm examining my own astral psychology and have no clue what to do with it, while sort of acknowledging that I have an odd mental illness. What the fuck is wrong with me? This is not the first time I've experienced this exact existential crisis while on the campus of the Invisible College I might point out.
As I pull into a liminal state I'm told that:
"You're barely even failing."
That's an improvement. I'm also told that I'm:
"An alumni"
You see how odd this is? Why would an alumni constantly enroll in undergraduate classes at the university he graduated from for the rest of his life? For the opportunity to take that one obscure history class that he never got to take, for reasons that only make sense to his higher self and the larger cosmic reality apparently. That part of me really needed me to take this very particular history class and I need to quit getting so distracted by all the others. OK.
3/6/2023 -
I'm standing on this large room sized elevated silver metallic disc overlooking a party going down in a club that's seemingly just getting started. There's another man on the silver disc with me and I somehow intuitively know that I've been in charge and am now leaving him in control of operations. So I go over to him and am sort of like:
"Everything seems to be running smoothly here, you got this. I'm out."
To which he responds.
"Cool, cool, cool, you do know that I got this particular young women artist to perform tonight though? Right?"
I look back at him sort of annoyed but also more than surprised and impressed. I do not know who the woman he mentioned is in actual life but in this environment I'm apparently a huge fan.
"Oh Jesus, I was just going to head out but you KNOW I'm going to have to stick around for that!"
I tell him. He laughs back at me. He knows and I get the feeling this was his entire plan and it's like a going away party of sorts.
Now I'm playing a show in this mind bending MC Escher-esque club that feels like an entire city. I do not even know what kind of show it is but it's getting into drunken monkey shit show territory. Not that embarrassing I suppose. I don't remember all the details of what happens here but it goes on for a bit and comes across like tipsily navigating a surrealist urban environment intuitively. The whole time I'm minorly worried about that murder I was unintentionally involved in. Is me hanging here going to dig up buried evidence? Something involving missing keys to a rental car. I don't entirely understand it all but I eventually run into the crackling living energy dude with flopy hair I keep encountering and we do the crackling living energy thing for a while. It's explained that this is all associated with a particular drug, which here I'm informed is Datura but I think is DMT honestly (which I've still never done).
Eventually after much partying I have to load out my gear and everyone joins together to help me, which is different. Also different that it's a music gear load out rather than leaving a hotel or apartment. As is often the case, this drags on forever as there's a ton of shit I have to grab up and fit into my moving van. The dream ends with me finally closing the back door on this moving van while thinking:
"I really need to make sure I'm telling the same story the other dudes tell about the rental car when I talk to the cops."
Later in a liminal state I'm informed that:
"You're going to have to leave eventually."
I suppose they're right. It's been over 21 years already but apparently I will have to move out of Seattle one day.
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