7/19/2023 -
I'm in some sort of negotiation about a project I'm working on and it's like I'm the basement of this giant white walled mansion and I'm negotiating with this narco gangster in the top master bedroom of the same white walled mansion. This all seems to be happening in a hot tropical/desert climate as well and we're negotiating on our cell phones even though we're in the same house. Why? No idea. I'm asking for full creative control of the project I'm working on and the dude won't give it to me. We're at a total stalemate and so I tell him I'll call him back in 5 minutes.
When I do, I tell him to take a look outside his fancy pants upstairs window. He does and there's this enormous guy decked out in all black full tactical commando gear pointing roughly the biggest machine gun I've ever seen in my life at his head.
"How about now?"
I ask.
In the next dream I'm getting ready for a huge family gathering and none of the outfits I want to wear are available in my closet. The only options are a few of my louder multi-colored pieces that I don't wear very often. My reservations with this are that there are going to be tons of pictures at this event and I'm not sure if I want to look at pictures of me in this outfit forever and ever. This seems to be a sort of VRBO type sitch and there are tons of very normal more formal looking outfits in the closet, but they're not mine. Am I allowed to wear those? All of this is very very boring and slightly anxiety inducing.
It makes sense though. I do sort of wish I got to let my freak flag fly a little more and yet I myself am not comfortable with it in a lot of situations. It's just easier to blend in. I hope to get to the point where I have no choice but there would be downsides to that as well.
7/20/2023 -
For the entire night my consciousness is consumed with badass alternating intensely colored psychedelic album covers. It's as if each of these excellently designed otherworldly album images represents a different plot potentiality and I can sort of feel these winding narratives they represent on a deep unconscious level of reality.
Then I slip into these distant dream states that I cannot put together into a human story at all. Too much jumping in and out of other people's heads which is mind bending enough but it's the disembodied state that's the hardest to process. What am I when I'm not in someone's head? That's the heaviest of heavy questions. Also, some of these most excellent album covers had this silver line border around the head trip imagery, which did in fact make them pop. Not a bad design idea honestly.
What else? At one point I woke up with the phrase:
"It is neither the book nor the words."
Reverberating through my headspace. The map is not the territory bro. The food is not the menu. Sage wisdom and I'm sure referencing the book I'm about to read called The Case Against Reality. Other than that, the only thing that happened is that I briefly entered this first person video game state where I was navigating through a high tech slightly alternate reality underground lab sitch. Basic "dungeon level" vibes. I was semi-lucid in this state and seemed to understand that I was exploring a dream world but that's about it.
7/21/2023 -
I'm in my old basement apartment again (surprise!). It's empty and I immediately know I'm not supposed to be here. Someone's walking down the hall. It's this short thin young white woman with thick brown hair parted down the middle wearing a white t shirt and blue jeans. I walk right past her as if I'm not even there. She says nothing although I'm not sure this ruse works at all. How could it?
Now I'm wandering around a grassy green hill area just south of the Greenwood neighborhood of Seattle, but well above it. I come upon this white gazebo looking thing and as I get closer I realize the woman I'd seen while leaving my old place is performing some sort of ritual in front of several followers and upon seeing this, a backstory deluge telepathically enters my mind. Oh yeah, that whole thing where I knew that she had started this odd nature cult. I'd say pagan but that's not quite it exactly. It's her own thing. Now, am I remembering this from another forgotten dream or did the entire plotline invent itself the second I witnessed her strange ritual. Who knows?
What's important though is that she's wearing a bad ass fucking cloak. Just ridiculously cool. Black with reddish orange interior and fringe and all these psychedelic galaxies all over. Choice. Absolutely fucking choice.
Anyway, I'm coming in on the tail end of this ritual and I arrive just in time to watch her project this reddish purple bolt of energy down on the Greenwood neighborhood below. I look and I can see she hit her target, which is this other patch of reddish purple energy which is now gargling and percolating with life.
"Jesus Fucking Christ!"
I interject.
"You're really fucking lucky a wizard just happened to be walking by lady!"
And with that I start flying off the grass mountain down to the point of impact but she's stops me briefly before I dart off.
"Failed wizard!"
She taunts me.
"Lady, you have no idea what you're talking about."
I say as I hover in conversation before darting down to the scene of the crime flying like Superman. Now I'm in the spare room of my old place. This is clearly her ritual room and once again, there's this awesome rainbow carpet laid down with a sacred space in the middle. It's a portal to this lower realm and she's summoned this adorable beetle creature, who's popping up out of the portal. This lady has style, I'll give her that.
"Never mind."
I tell her.
"Everything about this is fine."
I wake up and get back under. Now I'm hanging with the run down old house crew. I'd forgotten about them as they were introduced to me not long ago and I haven't heard from them since but here I am hanging in this large but old and rather run down pad. One of the crew explains to me how in this area of the astral plane, the streets all dart off from main arterials and the further the street gets away from the main streets, the more you can get away with. This house is pretty far from the intersection with the closest main drag so you know, options.
"Fascinating."
I think to myself and promptly set up this hyper colored magick lab that consumes several rooms on 2 floors quite effortlessly with the power of my imagination. It's a crappy run down house but it's huge and you know, that fortress of sorcery I just set up is pretty badass. Nothing can touch us in there. And so we get to it. What exactly? Well, it involved creating most excellent silver space suit shirts with crazy colored psychedelic art reverberating through them. Getting the fits just right is the key. They're fitted to slightly pinch the wrist quite specifically and that isn't the easiest to pull off, but we hone it. Oh how we hone it.
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