1/2/2024 –
In this vision I’m hearing about how a friend of some friends of mine has died. At first I’m sad in hearing this news, then I realize.
“Wait a minute. That guy was a piece of shit.”
True story. He was. Absolute trash person and probably a sex criminal of some variety based on what I knew of him 20 years ago. What’s fascinating here is that after I pull out of this vision I’m essentially confronted with the ridiculousness of the concept that this person:
“Deserved to die.”
Fair point and that is sort of what I was thinking. Our entire perception of death is warped and hell, I spend like 10% of my time wishing I was dead on a certain level because of an auto-immune disease. So don’t I “deserve to die” by virtue of being a mostly good person who’s got a broken immune system that makes me constantly miserable? Why would the shitty person be the one who “deserved to die”? Everything about everything we think about death is completely warped. The video game grasshopper people were telling me this just recently.
Down the road I end up having a prototypical dream where I’m in the classic wood walled Invisible College. Here I’m hanging out in the library and there’s a lively debate going on between a bunch of students but obviously I don’t give a single shit about it. I never do. In fact, eventually I realize that I’m supposed to be taking classes on Mondays and Wednesdays this quarter. It’s a Thursday so why am I even here? I’m not sure so I promptly leave.
Later in the night I’m having these visions about how our world is very much like a video game. Or moreover, video games are a metaphor for our lives that we’ve created to explain this shit to ourselves. Anywho, what it’s showing me is how there are romance arcs that anyone can play and comparing them to the ones in Cyberpunk 2077. I see these odd wormhole portals you can dive into and they have these preset romance options you can choose. Tons of people play the exact same arcs apparently, although there are different ways to play them.
Ok then. I must say though that if this is the case I have no idea why anyone would choose my romance arc honestly. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't love my wife but my romantic history is uhhh, strange and involves lots of mental illness to say the least.
Then again, the only choice you have as a hetero man in Cyberpunk is Panam, and I found her annoying as absolute hell but romanced her anyway again, because that was the only option in the game. So…I suppose the metaphor tracks. I picked the best option I could based on the ones available to me. They’ve actually told me this before strangely enough. There was no right answer really. Not the way the game works.
1/3/2024 –
A vision of a couple on a beach with a Ferris Wheel on it on a bright sunny day with their small child. It’s such a beautiful day and yet the man is quite clearly too junk sick to enjoy this time with his family. I mean, that’s why I don’t have kids. I’m not a junkie but I do have an autoimmune disease that makes me constantly feel like shit both mentally and physically. Not having kids is why I chose this romance arc for shizzle.
In the dream world I’m once again in the fancy high rise condo scenario. I’m hanging here for a bit and it has a great city view but at one point one of the people I’m hanging out with, who’s this dude in a suit, tells me I have to smoke weed in the bathroom. We seem to be hiding from someone but I don’t understand it and honestly the view in the bathroom is amazing. So I’m sitting there smoking weed in front of the sink in this posh upper floor bathroom when there’s a knock on the door.
Who was I hiding from? This billionaire weirdo, who’s this white guy in a black suit with slick hair. He walks in and I have zero clue why I was hiding from him and just start chatting. He’s admiring the view but gets strangely nitpicky about the construction that’s going down in front of a particular window. Honestly I hadn’t noticed it before but there is a large construction project going on in front of the one window that is obstructing the view a bit. Everything is draped in these black tarps. The creepy billionaire dude is making odd snide comments about it and I am deflecting them all with a version of:
“Whatever. I didn’t even really notice it until you pointed it out. There’s some construction going on out there slightly obstructing the view. Who cares?”
He’s pretending to be as chill about it as me but you can tell the very slight dent in his hyper-pampered lifestyle is pissing him off.
Later I’m once again in my old basement apartment. It’s super duper tricked out in this scenario and a couple of people are baffled by the fact that the rent is only $1700 a month. I’m not sure what to tell them. Yeah, it’s a pretty good deal I guess. The hilarious thing being that we were legit only paying $700 for that place years ago. But yeah, I mean, that type of low rent shit doesn’t exist in Seattle in the year 2024. Normal people getting jealous about a cheap apartment and rich creeps getting weirdly uptight about a slightly obstructed view in a high-rise condo. These people might as well live in completely different worlds. Seems about right.
1/4/2024 –
In this vision I’m hanging out with a bunch of younger people who strike me as being involved with some sort of protest movement. There’s a very odd fashion sense among them and for some reason this resonates with me as: protest fashion.
Anywho, I’m chatting with a few of these peeps and one of them is suddenly illuminated in this odd red glow. I’m quite confused by this until I look behind me and realize that another protest person was shining a crafted futuristic looking red flashlight on them, causing the glow. I’m equally confused by this.
Later in the night, while falling into another sleep state the chorus of this song resonates through my mind:
“Enjoy! The Women of the night. When the priest is knocking at your door.”
This is sung by what sounds like a black woman with a lot of soul in her voice. I wake up and this refrain is stuck in my head for most of the morning and I suppose I’d have to sing it for anyone else to understand.
Now I’m in a dream world where I’m out on a date night type situation with my wife in the middle of the day. We get back home and she immediately goes upstairs to start doing laundry so I’m like:
“Okay. So no romance on date night. Got it.”
But I do go upstairs because like, you’re just going to do laundry after our date? She then comes back down with me and now her Dad for completely unknown reasons comes and sits with us on the couch. And we’re just watching TV on the couch with her Dad when I remember I have another commitment. I was supposed to go out to a show with a friend later so I jet.
I walk for a while before I find myself near these what seem like urban ruins where I was supposed to meet my friend, but the second I get there I realize he never even confirmed that we were hanging out via text and he’s not a very reliable dude. As I’m thinking about why the hell I walked all the way over here I stare at this surreal looking almost insect in amber stylized industrial building next to where I’m standing in a daze. The thing is so odd it probably should have awakened me to the fact that I was dreaming but it doesn’t.
My wife’s Dad’s family is catholic so if you’re not grokking the quite obvious “religion represses sexuality” metaphors here, that should explain it. Red lights and protest? It’s not subtle.
1/6/2024 –
There’s this scene that I’m looking into from a third person perspective. It’s a small apartment, back in what I’d guess was the 70’s but it’s hard to tell because of the way trends cycle. There’s a woman sitting to the left of the couch in the living room in what looks like an old lounge chair you’d get from the thrift store, next to the adjacent thrift store looking couch that a thin balding young man is sitting on. The woman’s face is artfully blurred out in a manner meant to represent that her consciousness is vibrating wildly beyond this realm’s control. I immediately understand the visual metaphor to mean that she’s having what we’d currently consider a psychotic episode of some variety.
The camera then pans over and the man has a distant look of bewilderment on his face. Then my perspective focuses on the baby in the high chair in the middle of the two. It has a sad look on its face which actually manages to go from sad to even sadder when the camera pans in closer. It’s absolutely soul crushing and as my perspective pulls out of the shot I’m wondering how many hours they had to film the baby to get that take. Again, absolutely soul crushing.
The theme of having a mother suffering from mental illness just showed up in the episode of The Bear I was watching last night. Seems to be everywhere these days. Also, again, this is why I don’t have children and I suppose my spirit guides need to continually remind me how lucky I am in way as far as how my romantic life panned out.
Speaking of “The Bar”, for the rest of the night I have these hypnagogic visions based on that show. I’m reconfiguring all this dense dark material and I don’t understand what I’m doing, but I’m supposed to keep the main character chef in this clear open circle area. I’m continually reconfiguring things until he always remains in the open circle amongst the dense dark energy currents, which I do manage to nail. Always in the eye of the hurricane.
Also, while you're here, do you like psychedelic industrial noise rock? Of course you do!
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