11/16/2023 -
As I'm pulling out of a dream state I remember that I'd just boarded an enormous new spaceship and I'm quite pleased with the shiny new thing. In fact, I'm saying:
"Fine work. No notes."
When I pull into a conscious state but that's all I remember. Then for the rest of the night, that's the vibe. I'm really enjoying this new vessel which feels almost like a flying metallic octagon of sorts. The important thing though is that I've transformed myself out of human form and am some sort of unbound imaginal entity dispensing beautiful colored shapes from an elevated position. I'm shifting through various perspectives which are all represented by these shapes that I've dispensed about the ship and warping between the various perspectives to tie together a narrative.
Because of this though, I have trouble following the narrative I'm creating because it's just not something I can truly comprehend when returning to human form. Typical shit. It's difficult for me to grok what it's like to be an entity unbound by talking monkey timespace perceptional limitations.
In fact, this is a response to my previous night's excursions into my depressive personality. Why do I find "normal life" here so mind-numbingly boring? This is why. I'm used to controlling multiple narratives at once. Being locked into but one of them for an extended period feels terribly dull to someone used to controlling dozens of them at the same time from above.
As for dreams? I only remember a few things. At one point I'm at a gathering with my wife's family and the food for this gathering is huge nacho table. Just an enormous table top of delicious nachos. We're all sitting in chairs facing the nacho table and we all get up and take our stab at it for a period, then we let the next group come up to graze standing up. We're the second group and I'm slightly concerned that the final group isn't going to get enough nachos so I'm not going as all in as I maybe would have if I wasn't concerned with a potential shortage. Second nacho table dream I've had now that I'm thinking about it. Fascinating.
The only other thing I remember is that I'm hanging at my mom's old house and we have a secret basement/rehearsal room. A couple of my friends are calling me and begging me to come down and hang in the space with them. I don't remember if this ever happens but I do remember waking up in the same house, then realizing my mom bought some odd almost defective NBA jerseys. One of them looks pretty sweet honestly, but I'm not sure it'll fit. I wake up trying on these weird NBA jerseys in a state of uncommon bliss. Enjoying my non human form for a night has rejuvenated me.
11/17/2023 -
Oh hey, shocker, another dream about going to some small university town. This time it's supposed to be based on Miami of Ohio, where I briefly went as a kid. Several of my friends are going and I'm coming along for unknown reasons. In fact, when I get to our new apartments I'm quite clueless as to why I'm here in the first place. I'm psychically scanning this small town and it's so boring. A bunch of square bland roughly 2 story brick buildings. How would I find any sort of happiness here? I'm not sure and it seems to be their thing, not mine. I guess I can work from home anywhere though.
Me exploring this town goes on for quite a while and honestly, only a few things of real note happen. There's a band practice space on the upstairs floor of our complex which I must confess is a bonus. At one point I'm hanging out in our pad, reading what seems like a student run publication of some variety and I'm abnormally pleased.
"Holy Shit! There are music reviews in this thing. Like a couple pages of 15 or 20, 1 to 2 paragraph music reviews. I am so thrilled by this that I call over a couple of the younger people in the apartment. Kids. Look. Old man shit. Album reviews in print. I used to write these."
Upon waking up I realize that it wasn't even a decade ago that the Seattle Weekly was briefly reviewing everything that was sent to them. Hell, they gave Black Science a fantastic review. Lord is the decline of music journalism is sad but also, I really should start writing music reviews again. The next thing of significance that happens is that I start wandering around the town only to find myself in this packed modern classroom, which almost seemed like a futuristic sound hall in a way. Did it have cool wood paneling? Of course. I'm pretty sure that's some sort of requirement with my dream architecture. 70% of it has to have wood paneling.
Anyway, I have no idea why I'm here but this hip I'd say early 40's slightly thicc round faced Asian woman with tied up hair and glasses walks in, starts wandering through the packed room and booming at us. It all seems like a sales pitch honestly. This is clearly the first class of the quarter and she's trying to explain why we're here. Essentially what she's saying is that it's going to be very difficult and competitive, but if we thrive we'll get feedback on our work from famous writers. And she keeps giving examples of how her students from the prior quarter got legit feedback on their work from all these well known authors. She might be dropping names but I ain't catching 'em. I have zero clue who any of the people she's referencing are.
She also walks by at one point and compliments me on my Trader Joe's hat. I don't realize this but apparently I'm wearing a Trader Joe's hat and the cool kind of Trader Joe's hat, not the normal one according to her. I'd say this is nonsensical but I believe the point is networking, Trader Joe's being notorious for their unique brand of overly talky customer service.
When she's done there's this super skinny young white guy with floppy blonde hair sitting behind me and he's confused, so I explain to him:
"She's saying that the whole point to this is networking and that we can potentially meet high society people that can potentially get us published."
The lady is intentionally obfuscating this in a way because this is supposed to be "education" after all so I suppose I get why he's confused. As I leave the class it's occurring to me that I've somehow enrolled in one of those super exclusive Midwest writing workshops. I had to look it up to remind myself that the University of Iowa is the big one. I'm now struggling to bring my books and folders with me. Everything keeps falling all over the place. It's impossible to pick up for unknown reasons and I'm familiar with this routine so I go lucid, but in a very odd way. I know I'm dreaming and yet, what the fuck is going on with this school? I don't want to control the dream world, I just want to explore.
And so I look for CD stores and I miraculously find one. Except, these aren't CD's, they're like huge record packaging sized silver discs.
"Ahh, laser discs"
I think to myself. Then I accidentally knock some over and am asked to leave by security.
11/18/2023 -
Wouldn't you know, another family vacation event type thing. How out of nowhere that is. Here it's once again going down at my grandparent's old house in the Columbia Gorge. I've been there for a while but I need to grab some other peeps so I do and roll back in style hovering down in my Luka spaceship. Yep, I for some reason have a space ship that I've named after Luka Doncic. It's dark metallic tan and the whole space vessel is basically a long shaft/nose with cool windows in the front and small black wings with thrusters on the back. What's odd is that I never actually see the thing but I feel how it looks as I slowly hover down onto the driveway landing pad.
Not a sensation that exists in the waking world and holy crap does Mount Hood look absolutely surreal and incredible as the pink sunlight drips off it in this astral environment. It might as well be 2 feet away from our front yard and a part of me knows something's off and that I'm dreaming.
This whole excursion goes on for a while, way before I roll up in the spaceship but after I do the only event I truly recall is that my uncles are all playing a golf like game on the carpeted stairs to the first floor and I have to wait for them to finish their playthrough before I can get upstairs. When I wake up I realize that my brother and I absolutely did this on occasions when it was raining when I was a kid. We'd set up indoor croquet and absolutely arrange shots you needed to hit down the stairs. What a random memory.
When I get back under I'm now in another, much fancier family gathering in I'd guess Mexico. It's in some sunny beach town and it's far more than a family gathering. There are craptons of people there so I have no clue what's going on but there's some sort of ceremony and we're all sitting outside eating and drinking at these fancy black rowed tables in the sun. I'd guess fancy wedding because we're all snazzed up but it'd have to be for an amazingly popular couple.
I'm sitting with my family but after a while I decide that there are so many people here that it seems ridiculous to just sit and talk to fools I already know, so I just get up, grab my beer, and sit at an open part of a table with these other I'd guess my age white people, also dressed to the hilt. For a sec I feel really awkward for doing this. I'm doing the thing where I'm looking bored and trying not to just inject myself into their conversation but eventually an unknown opportunity presents itself and at the exact right moment I blurt out:
"You mean I wasn't supposed to drink 23 beers?"
Then I take a small sip of mine. Everyone laughs but I know that whereas I nailed the timing I should have really sold the beer chug after it. I took a kiddie sip. It was still funny but it could have been even more righteous. Anyway, I'm in.
I forget quite a bit after that but eventually we're at our cars and I get the vibe we're all going to do different things at this exotic locale. I run into this woman who's supposed to be following my family's car and I know where they parked so I get in so she can give me a ride over. She's a 60-ish white woman with greying hair dressed in an all blue formal jacket and dress combo and she immediately starts driving like a complete fucking lunatic. In fact, when she does I start remembering that I had a dream where I was in a car where someone was driving like an asshole just recently and I think this is synchronous. Like, I just dreamt about being in a car with a psychopath driver not long ago and here I am. I cannot stress how completely mind fuckingly disorienting this deja vu sensation is, in an awesome way. Our god is an awesome god.
We're in this third world type environment and everyone at this event seems to have some pretty high end vehicles which I find a bit creepy. I'd already been thinking this and then the woman makes some snide comment about a homeless man's bike being his fany car and that's 2 huge red flags now. Lunatic driver and shitty classist. Remind me to ditch this lady as soon as I can.
Also, while you're here, do you like psychedelic industrial noise rock? Of course you do!
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