February 2022 -
This starts off like fairly basic lucid dream fodder. Somehow finding myself in my old apartment finalizes the conclusion that I'm currently on the other side. The part of me attached to things like normal memory recognizes that I moved out of this place nearly a decade ago, but here I am with my wife.
When I realize I'm dreaming I start interrogating her, but nothing interesting comes of it honestly. The only thing I can say is that I knew the answers about herself she was feeding me didn't jibe with waking life (which I understood even in the dream), but there was probably some sort of metaphorical component to them that flew right over my head. Almost as if sensing that the spectral convo wasn't going anywhere, I then stepped through a secret door in our wall and into an urban beach/waterfront environment.
As I did, I started walking toward the beach and was frozen in my tracks by the glorious feeling of the sun warming my skin. Except that there was no sun and there was no skin, and I also knew this. I kind of paused looking up at the sky while basking in the radiant heat transference. I'm running my fingers through my hair and contemplating the fact that I'm simultaneously lying down in my room in pitch darkness, nestled between my pooches. Theoretically this experience could be summoned at will, effortlessly. Even in the darkest of winter nights.
From there it gets sort of comical as I look over and there's this public beach with these gorgeous like sun bathing attendants or whatever. There are all these people laying on the beach on towels in rows, and also these women who's job it apparently is to monitor and assign ordered toweled sunbathing space. I'm of course intrigued and summon one of them over telepathically, as another part of me understands that I'm creating all of this. I am this lush tattooed towel woman wearing a swim club type uniform on some level. She sets me up with my own sun spot but I only get to enjoy the inner space solar blast for another minute or so before the dream disappointingly fades.
I wake up thinking:
The fact that everyone doesn't get to feel what it's like to bask in the warmth of an internal virtual sun is sort of sad honestly. This shouldn't be a hard thing to accomplish.
But it's not until I've had a few drinks a few days down the road that it suddenly hits me like a downward shooting jolt of dark psi energy. With all the technology we have, we're still nowhere near recreating something like this, are we? With all the billions going into virtual reality, how the fuck would you replicate the experience of basking in the sunlight of a virtual world? Neurology would have to be hacked somehow. But why?
I've already done it, by accident. No tech required. We're not just already there, we've been already there as long as we've been here. It was brief lucid dream, but also a succinct reminder that our entire society is looking for answers in the exact wrong places. Fundamentalist materialism is a broken spiritual philosophy. Always has been. I was told years ago in a liminal state that video games are but a metaphor for dreams. Exactly.
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