11/19/2023 -
In a ganj--i-tation vision my wife is flying down a translucent tube. I say translucent but honestly I don't even see the tubular borders here, I just know they're there somehow. She's dancing as she flies through the spectral portal but it isn't dancing like we know it. She's energetically morphing her essence into excellent arty configurations in tune with the sounds. In fact, this psychic dance routine is so effortlessly excellent that it weirds me out, and not it a bad way. I just can't believe what I'm seeing. It lacks a human pulse. Alien transmissions.
The sheer astonishment alone sends me into a waking stating contemplating the nature of visions beyond human understanding.
Now it's the I-was-involved-with-a-murder-I-didn't-commit theme again. It's been a while honestly. In this scenario I owe a crime family a favor in a southern, tropical, third world type environment. After I get there what happens isn't entirely clear other than that we have to abandon our "mission" and head back through a clear energy portal to Seattle. Now my perspective shifts and I'm back in the tropical locale. I know this other person and I somehow know they're going to take the fall. I can feel myself inside this person's head and I can feel how I'm being duped, but I can also tell this person can't feel this internal persuasion that I can sense while inside their mind.
Back in Seattle the gangsters tell me:
"Did you really think that was Mexico?"
This is a reference to the dream the night before, I get it. I'm now also back at a party in the Columbia Gorge, except that it's made explicitly clear that this gathering is going to be directly connected to this other late 50's/early 60's dimension. If you walk down this one hallway there's a portal and they're all hanging out at a family gathering there as well. It's the same gathering and I can sometimes see them crackle through but we can always feel them there. The effect is excellent and inspired by the lower resolution recording equipment and fashion of the day but I can also feel how the consciousness is different. It's a different time but they're all here, right through that odd almost electric upside down portal hallway.
I'm hanging out on the porch enjoying the view of the mountains when I see a small black tornado forming in the distance. Holy shit! I should probably go warn people. I come back inside and try to do this but quickly get lost in the high end maze architecture and end up on another much more awesome porch. Like, holy fuck. It's a ridiculously swank sci fi porch off the east side of the house, with an even better view. My grandma's there and she's like:
"What Tornado?"
She makes it clear that she can control the environment with her imaginal powers. She's not concerned. I then head back to the party and my stepmother stops me as I walk by the main dinner table. The people on the other side of the time portal think someone threw something. Was it me?
"No."
I tell her.
"I mean, maybe I threw a toy for one of the dogs at one point."
She doesn't entirely believe me but she checks this odd almost step tracker app, which is seemingly monitoring every footfall in the sensor floor. I don't get it either but it looks cool with all these red reflective tiles as it floods into my mind. In looking she can quickly tell that I wasn't the source of the complaint.
11/20/2023 -
At some point during the night I get a jarring transmission coming through in a liminal state. It feels like I'm sending it from above to myself below and there's an intuitive you-live-in-a-crap-lower-reality vibe to it, but specific words are said that give it an additional clarity.
"YOUR REALM IS BASED AROUND YOUR FEARS!"
It's definitely odd how clear and powerful this message comes through and I hadn't really considered it before. Our world certainly does have a lot to do with our fear of death and everything about our dominant spiritual beliefs sure seems to be designed to amplify that quite specifically. Just another riff on the "you're in hell" theme that's been pervading my sleep states for years.
On the dream front I'm once again going to classes at the Invisible College. What's different this time is that it seems like I have friends in this class. We're chatting and for the first time I have some sort of explanation for why I keep taking these same classes over and over. It's a social thing in this situation. I enjoy hanging out with these people apparently. At least it's something. Then the scene cycles and its the first day of class again. All the same people are here, just like me. So they seem to be taking this class again as well. Am I not the only one with this compulsion? Maybe not.
Now I'm shown an odd scene where the class is re-enacting what as far as I can tell is a Sherlock Holmes type mystery play on the back of a San Francisco style trolley car. They're all dressed up accordingly and I realize that I don't remember this particular session at all in witnessing this I have another realization which is:
"Hmmm, yeah, I guess I was skipping classes."
We're on the last class and I'm pretty sure I passed but I'm also pretty sure I'm going to get dinged for not attending this one. Is it the only one I skipped?
Eventually class wraps and I'm supposed to be taking a bus home. I initially catch one but for unexplained reasons I'm now back at the bus stop. The 28 line comes by and I know that one will get me close to where I need to go. Except when I get on it, it's super packed and something feels off. I get on anyway though and wouldn't you know, something does end up being weird as about halfway there we're stopping at some mobster's office for further instructions and I'm baffled:
"This is a public bus. Why are we doing mob business? I'm just trying to get home, you know?"
They ignore me and now it's our job to help set up chairs for some mob run event in the basement venue below the office. As helping with this task I'm increasingly perplexed.
"How did taking a bus home lead me to working for the goddamn mafia?"
This question is never answered.
11/21/2023 -
At one point I pull out of a sleep state with the phrase:
"Mars is not a new technology."
Reverberating through my headspace. Fair point.
As for dreams, lots of them I don't really remember but I do come to in the middle of one of the high rise scenario situations. I have no clue what's going on, but we're hanging out on one of the lower floors when I notice a huge outdoor pool area with a choice view of this surrealist astral city. And so I'm all:
"Wow, check that shit out!"
And I head over to grab some snaps. Except of course the second I do not only does the scenery start shifting wildly but of course my phone for whatever reason can't take pictures. I can't even find the camera option. All these other people have come of to get their shots in now that I've pointed out the amazing view and I'm getting really annoyed with my phone. I mean, what the fuck? Taking pictures, that's the simplest function right? I can't even find the button to activate the camera. Some of the other peeps are asking me if I just have an old phone and I'm explaining to them that it's only one version behind the latest.
That's about where the strain cuts out and I'm now in my mom's old place in Beacon Hill hanging out in an unexplained situation with all these women. There's the skinny blonde woman with tightly curled and colored hair who's flirting with me upstairs and downstairs this other woman informs me that she's left me a hand written letter she's left by the stairs. I guess I've lead this woman on to a certain extent at some point although I don't remember any of this. She's a very average looking white woman not wearing any make up with her brown hair tied up casually but as she walks away I notice that her ass does look great in the pair of jeans she's wearing. Just the right amount of junk in the trunk.
It doesn't compel me to read the hand written letter she's left on the stairs though. Instead I walk right past it and proceed to walk to the second floor and nerd out on some new music I've laid down on headphones. It's this low fi psychedelic bass amped garage rock style thing with dual vocals by myself and an unidentified woman. At first I don't think the vocals are mixed quite right and I can tell they're super lo fi but eventually I'm like. You know. That works. Cool fucking song. Weird in a completely different way than what I normally come up with. The entire experience of listening to spontaneously created shape shifting sonic adventures in a dream is always divine.
It's the second to last track on the album I'm working on and I'm about to run it back when I realized it's 8pm. I'm pretty sure we were supposed to have headed out to an unknown destination by now but the initial upstairs blonde woman I was flirting with now enters the room and informs me that something odd involving me is going down online and it's super realistic because it's like I'm paying zero attention to this.
"Yeah, people talking shit to me online. I'm used to it."
And she clarifies that she thinks someone is cyber stalking me. Then I remember the letter I was supposed to read but blew off and think to myself.
"I probably know the answer to this mystery."
Then another much younger thin blonde woman also with multi-colored dyed hair walks in declares that she's pregnant. Since she looks like she's maybe 20 at the oldest, I'm minorly creeped out by this declaration but on another hand:
"Seems about right."
Also, while you're here, do you like psychedelic industrial noise rock? Of course you do!
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