1/21/2023 –
I’m once again warned at how bad our world is going to get. I don’t remember the exact verbiage but I’m being told that it’s going to happen faster than I would think essentially. I do keep forgetting that it’s an election year.
Later a vision of all these sort of precious looking angelick ballerina women living in the solar light of the Earth’s upper atmosphere. Now the vision pans down to the dark energy of the surface. This is presented as a class in school which comes across like a compartmentalized dark energy video game and what I’m being shown specifically is how intentionally difficult it is. In fact, the whole point that’s being made is that none of these heavenly angelick ballerina women would ever be able to pass the class. The difficulty of the curriculum has been set far too high on purpose, seemingly with a degree of malicious intent.
Then another vision. I’m like a stand up comedian or a spoken word artist on stage alone in a mid-sized seated theater. My performance has to appeal to the people in the upper balcony of the theater. That’s the point they’re making and the metaphor is not subtle.
1/22/2023 –
I think this might be some sort of record for how many dreams and visions I forgot in one night. As I’m drifting to sleep I have 4 or 5 different hypnagogic transmissions and I even remember a few of them briefly, just to promptly lose the intel. Its genuinely sort of odd considering I typically excel at this sort of thing.
The first thing I do remember is being shot out of a glowing arthouse Moebius sun into psychedelic space. I am decked out head to toe in kaleidoscopic day glo attire, replete with a top hat o’ many colors. The freaky top hat really does sell my hypercolor floating in space attire and the sudden ejection from the heart of the sun corresponds with my rocketing into a waking state.
In early morning I do remember another nugget. I’m talking to the old school MTV VJ Downtown Julie Brown (although she doesn’t look like Julie Brown) and she’s telling me the story of how she became of fan of this particular psychedelic band. She was working at this radio station with a wood walled booth and she was asked to help cover the act for an assignment although she wasn’t remotely familiar with them or what they were all about. Long story short: in the course of this gig she became a lifelong fan and this fandom is represented by her now being decked out head to toe in over the top psychedelic regalia. OK then.
The next thing I know I’m waiting for some sort of class to start in the Invisible College and for whatever reason this class not only starts in a windowless part of a library but it seems to involve music journalists. While waiting for the thing to begin I put my head down on my desk and catch some zzz’s but when I wake up the room is packed with people all standing up. I have no idea why.
Now I’m in some conference room outside of what’s supposed to be Charleston, South Carolina but I’m not necessarily buying it. It’s the same odd small southern city I’ve created on the astral plane for reasons that remain completely unknown to me. Regardless, we’re all attending this brunch in this fancy conference room space with a huge windowed view of downtown. At first I’m not remotely impressed with the city’s core architecture but the longer I’m hanging out there, the cooler the view looks. It does almost seem like the more beers I drink the cooler it gets, but I don’t actually remember drinking anything. I’m just hanging out staring at the view.
Anyway, eventually this thin rocker looking woman in a sleeveless shirt with tattoos who I’d guess is in her early 40’s but has a bit of haggard face that makes her look slightly older insists on taking us on a nature walk. I have slight reservations but she seems to be familiar with the area and so a bunch of us agree to embark on the trek. When we head out, she’s playing this cheesy pop song about Los Angeles and I point out how ridiculous it is considering we’re in Charleston, South Carolina. I’m also not super happy about the fact that she just didn’t mention we’d be walking through an extended trail of pure mud since I’m wearing a nice white pair of Jordans. Thanks lady.
Eventually we get to this almost wooden American Ninja Warrior type play equipment/obstacle course thing. She’s leading us through it and everything’s going fine until the woman in front of me is swinging on this trapeze like hanging contraption and the thing snaps mid-air. She falls I’d say like 50 feet to the ground in front of me and we’re all freaking out. I see her hit the ground in her all gray sweat suit and nobody knows what to do, particularly me because now I’m hanging in the air on the broken trapeze swing wondering how I’m going to navigate back to the tree.
There is a bit of weird humor here as everyone is freaking out about the woman who fell to the point that they just don’t notice that I’m stranded up in the air still dealing with the broken obstacle course infrastructure. I’m just swinging there and I’m pretty sure I can swing my way over to the nearest tree and make it down, which takes a bit but I do manage to accomplish.
When I get down I’m insisting that we need to get the fallen woman to the hospital and wondering if I’m going to have to carry her. Everybody else seems so dazed they’re almost paralyzed to inaction. When the woman fell she was wearing all gray and had gray hair but now she’s much younger with jet black hair and her sweatsuit has transformed to all pink. She’s lying there in pain with a jacked up leg and talking about how this is worse than her goth roommate, who always seems to will bad things into existence. It’s like she’s surprised that things went just as bad with these day glo hippie people.
It’s at this point that I can’t help but see the whole thing as a metaphor for a guided psychedelic trip. In fact, I see the viewpoint our guide was leading us to and I’m like:
“We didn’t even have to use the crumbling obstacle course to get there. We could have just walked right over.”
Ahhh metaphors.
1/23/2023 –
It’s the classic thing where I’m flying around in a higher state of consciousness and then fly back into my body. Here the metaphor is presented like I’m coming from the sky and moving to a place beneath the dirt. You see the dirt and mud? You’re lower than that as a human. That’s what I’m being shown.
Then this utterly ridiculous dream. I’m driving around listening to Guided By Voices in my car when I’m for some reason compelled to stop by a music venue downtown and pop in. When I do I realize that GBV just so happen to be playing a show at the exact venue I decided to pop in at, that night. The thing is though, I genuinely don’t believe this could be happening. Like, no fucking way. But the guy at the ticket counter assures me it’s true and hands me this huge yellow VIP pass wrist band thing. This is particularly odd because it brings back memories of this other concert I just saw at this venue and my relationship with this dude, which are either coming from another dream I’d just forgotten or are being spontaneously created to explain why the guy is hooking me up.
Who knows what’s going on there. What I do know though is that since I didn’t even know the show was happening I showed up really early and it’s awkward because I now have a ton of time to kill before the music starts. It’s a mid-sized venue with seats and Robert Pollard is just meandering around the empty theater. I think about saying hi but I don’t want to bug him. I do run into this one heavy set gypsy looking woman with jet black hair and she wants to give me some sort of psychic reading. I don’t get it but I then run into another musician I knew years ago and she’s all:
“Oh wow, you picked the right guy for a reading. Thad’s the real deal. This should be interesting.”
But for some reason this provocation makes the gypsy woman lose interest in the reading and leave to take on something else. I honestly have zero clue what happens to her but I’m once again bored and awkwardly killing time. More to the point though, I just don’t believe that GBV are playing a show here tonight, which is particularly ridiculous because I just saw Robert Pollard walking around the theater.
It doesn’t seem right though so I sit down and keep trying to confirm the show on my phone, but I obviously can’t because my phone starts doing the typical dream thing where it keeps morphing and none of the details will pin down. It isn’t until I wake up that I realize where the confusion was stemming from. In a waking state I had just looked at the Guided By Voices tour schedule the day before and they aren’t coming to Seattle this year. The bleed through from the waking world is what was causing me to question the scenario.
Later there’s a sickly man lying in bed. An arty black orb entity is hovering above the bed. This man is his protector in this realm and there’s an intuitive understanding that the man’s sickness is the exact thing that makes him so formidable as an avatar for the daemon. It would be very hard to fuck with this dude partially because of his condition but also his life is obviously miserable so…
Now I’m shopping for CD’s. I’m not expecting the place to have anything cool but they do have a couple of the latest The Future Sound of London releases and the sleeves do look pretty choice. Then I look back and there aren’t as many as I first thought there were. Hmmm.
The night ends in this utterly bizarre scenario where I’m interviewing a babysitter for my fictional baby sister in my old basement apartment. Absolutely none of this makes any sense at all but what maybe makes the least sense is that I’m not wearing any socks and I’m noticing that my toenails need to be clipped. When I wake up I realize that yes, my toenails could in fact use a clipping.
Also, while you're here, do you like psychedelic industrial noise rock? Of course you do!
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