5/18/2024 –
I had some stomach issues tonight that disrupted my sleep but did manage to catch a few things.
While ganj-i-tating into liminal bliss my consciousness is flooded with these green naturescapes. Not really forest but just green. Lush greenery. Various configurations of this theme cycling through, each lasting for 30 seconds or so. Crystal clear though.
Now a scenario where this black guy I get the impression I don’t even know very well is being looked at for a crime. I know he’s innocent but none of his friends are going to say anything to the cops to clear him. Gee, I wonder why people wouldn’t want to talk to the cops? I wouldn’t without a lawyer but anyway, I decide I need to clear him and the only thing that’s really interesting about this is that it’s like I’m using this mystical interface to show the cops the inside of my mind. Boxes within boxes. Screens within screens. Do you see why he’s innocent now?
In this final sitch, I’m looking at the thumbnail of this YouTube video and the title is:
“A world of dandies and guitars”
The image isn’t quite the right choice though from my perspective though. I mean, it is a thin British looking dude with a slightly moppy haircut rocking out on stage holding a guitar while slyly smiling and looking to the side at his bandmates. The outfit doesn’t seem foppy enough though, you know? It’s just a standard semi-loose fitting long sleeve blue t shirt with a few buttons at the top around the semi V neck cut and like black jeans. The outfit could certainly be dandier given the title of the piece. That’s all I’m saying.
5/19/2024 –
For most of the night I’m pulling out of these weird and honestly unpleasant scenarios into this police interrogation room, continuing the trend from the night before. There are these magick doors in the interrogation room and each time I pull out of one of the anxiety inducing situations, I exit the temporary narrative realm via the magick doors and end up back in the interrogation room. Each time I wake up shortly thereafter as well, not remembering a single thing from these incredibly long and detailed situations other than the sense of adventure/anxiety. Which one is it? Things that seem exhilarating in a fictional context sure seem mostly unpleasant when you’re living them out.
After this goes on for hours and hours and I’d say I live through at least 4 or 5 of these odd instantly mind wiped action sequences, it’s explained to me that there were no good options. This was the point. It’s a dark comedy. Every option you might have chosen was going to suck to a certain extent. It was always just shitty option 1 or shitty option 2 essentially. If our world is a dark comedy, it’s all going to be dark comedy I suppose. What did you expect?
Later I’m in the Invisible College. Class is wrapping up and I’m looking through the final assignment that I’ve mostly completely. There’s one last part at the end that involves replicating someone else’s failed work. Like, you’re supposed to take someone in the past’s failed experiment and replicate it again, knowing it’s going to fail and failing again as some sort of a learning experience, then present the results to the teacher. I see this and am like, really? What the fuck?
I look at the guy next to me at his desk, pointing at the tacked on instructions on the paper and ask:
“Did you catch this final thing that got footnoted onto to this assignment? Jesus, what a bunch of bullshit. Are you going to do that?”
It seems like I could probably pass without completing this part of the test. We’re both sort of rolling our eyes, knowing we’re going to do it but pissed at the teacher. This is also a reference to my own collegiate experiences as a psychology student where we were asked to replicate other people’s studies essentially. Why? I still have no idea. Our prediction was literally that the deviation of the existing study we were attempting to replicate wasn’t going to work. We were right about that.
5/20/2024 –
So…much…shit…going…on tonight. In the first scenario I’m in this odd multi-level live in office space and I’m creating this new living video game that involves souls incarnating into the lower realms in some capacity.
As I’m engaging in this odd activity, Bob Odenkirk shows up out of nowhere. We’re hanging for a bit and at one point I sort of casually ask how he’s doing. The answer? Not good.
What’s crazy is that in the dream I am legitimately confused by this. Like, you spend your time making TV shows and hanging out in Hollywood and shit. How could you be miserable if that’s what you’re doing with your life?
Answer: he’s struggling with drug addiction, cocaine addiction specifically. This leads to another odd contemplative state where I’m thinking about how possibly my depressive personality prevented me from falling down that particular rabbit hole. I never was that smitten with the white horse or narcotics in general. Odd thing to be contemplating on the astral plane. I’m sad to hear the news but eventually I’m like:
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, the game I’m creating is super boring and no one would want to play it.”
This is sort of my opinion of my waking life.
In the next situation a friend and I are going to Washington D.C., except that where we go sure seems to be in the Midwest rather than the east coast. Regardless, when we get there we hit the “main strip” as it were. All of the culture in the entire town exists on this one street and what’s particularly ridiculous is that all of the buildings look exactly the same for the most part. They’re all boxy seemingly one story structures with A frame type roofs but they all have these evocative signs on them. It’s a sight to see that reminds me of the strip in Ocean Shores and in a way I think this is cool. Like, it’s sort of convenient that everything anyone would ever want to do in this city is on this one street.
Speaking of things to do, we’re now going to see a Guided By Voices show but wow does this get weird. We’re in the basement of this relatively swanky/trendy venue and the band is playing without Robert Pollard downstairs. But we can hear him singing. I don’t entirely understand it but for unexplained reasons I eventually decide to head upstairs.
When I do, I realize this is an art gallery and Pollard is essentially doing karaoke GBV by himself on stage with the classic velvet ropes surrounding the small white stage around him. There are sparse lights draped behind him to add to the aesthetics and I’d expect it to be far more crowded upstairs but the opposite is true. It’s not like there’s no one there but the crowd is relatively sparse and it’s like most people are barely paying attention to him while they sip their champaign looking calculatedly disinterested. It’s an art crowd, not a rock crowd for sure.
He's going to take a brief set break and asks the audience if they have any requests before he does. Someone requests Louie Louie and he’s all:
“Is that really what you want to hear?”
Before he exits looking sort of annoyed and goes to talk to the people at the front desk. He certainly seems wasted. Now things get even stranger as a friend of ours that we were supposed to meet shows up late and my other friend tears into her. Like, she is so pissed that this friend showed up late. It’s a whole thing and I have zero clue what to make of it so we head back downstairs. That’s about where I lose this sitch.
In the next one, I’m in a small classroom that seems to be floating in a black void. I’m not entirely sure what leads me to realize that I’m dreaming here but I do catch on. Of course, it feels so real though that I have to phase my hand through my desk to prove it to myself. After I do, I fly to the front of the class and for some reason there’s this blonde woman in the back corner who I am absolutely entranced with. I don’t entirely understand it either. She’s not like the most conventionally attractive woman in the universe but I am completely shook by her.
And yet, I fly out of the window into the void and wake back up in my parent’s old place in Ohio, now completely losing lucidity. I get up and my sister now corners me in the kitchen to ask me about my food allergies. I don’t really have any but the enchiladas my wife made on Saturday did make me sick for some reason. I believe it had to do with the peppers.
How this leads me to a situation where I’m in a hospital room with about 5 other people I have zero clue. The entrancing blonde woman is here though, which makes me regain my lucidity. Her presence makes me want to perv out, which I do by controlling the scene. I have no idea why this is but rather than trying to get with the woman I’m fixating on, I decide to start with this other blonde woman who’s more conventionally attractive. I approach her lasciviously and she’s taken aback.
“But, my husband’s in a coma.”
She tells me. Yeah. Fair point. It’s like he’s a brown folded outfit on a shelf on this black multi-tiered shelf. I suppose that explains why we’re at the hospital. I’m also like:
“I mean, yeah, he’s in a coma so he won’t really care, will he?”
This somehow convinces her and I’m now stripping her down to her frilly white lingerie. My lord is this woman ripped. And yet, she’s not even the one I’m interested in. I was using my magick powers to seduce her to get to the other irresistible woman. I do manage to get her naked too and it turns into a hospital room orgy sitch with the brown folded clothes coma dude in the corner. Normally this type of thing makes my lucid dreams fade but here it goes on for quite a while, not that I remember it much. There’s no sexual charge really, I’m just enjoying the caress of their naked flesh but the WTF factor is pretty off the charts.
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