(trigger warnings: II and III both deal with violent imagery)
I need to get from Atlanta to San Fransisco for a conference but I
forgot to buy a plane ticket. I go to the office of this new startup
promising convenient, safe teleportation technology.
Cliched bearded startup men smugly swipe my credit card into their
square-enabled ipad and lead me to a half-cylinder large enough for me
to stand in. They say to close my eyes and inhale deeply, then I'll be
transported (my luggage would be transported seperately).
I do what they say and, sure enough, open my eyes to find myself in
their San Fransisco office. My luggage is next to me. I feel kind of
woozy. I check my watch and realize it's been several hours since I
stepped into the teleporter in Atlanta. I'm late to my conference but
happy to have made it at all.
I find out later that the "teleportation" technology is that they gas
you to knock you out for hours, then load you with your stuff on a
specially chartered cargo plane that flies specific routes between
teleportation endpoints. Essentially, they'd converted an amazon-style
supply infrastructure to accomodate humans in tight temperature
controlled / oxygenated coffins.
This at first offends me with its banality but then I realize it was
actually a lot nicer than normal flying.
Some kind of superpower--an AI or an alien race--takes over the earth
and subjects all humans to immersive VR experiments. I'm injected into
a WWII simulation but something goes wrong with the memory drugs and I
am still cognizant of the fact that it's VR.
I find myself thrown into a battle somewhere in the European
theater. The Wehrmacht, however, consists solely of short green
goblins. I attempt to point out this absurdity as proof of reality
being a simulation to my fellow soldiers but they act like I've gone
insane because, "of course they are goblins, they're nazis."
The experiment is horrifying and I decide to try and kill myself to
end it. I allow myself to be shot and stabbed by goblins but I feel no
pain and do not die or even weaken. I realize that no one is dying:
soldiers are just getting more and more ragged and bloody but continue
to act like nothing is wrong.
I run from the battle and find a cliff so high I can't even see the
ground below. I jump off and fall for several minutes, praying for
death. I reach the ground and land unscathed on my feet. It's a beach
and gray pixellated water laps at the shore. Behind me, goblin
soldiers rain screaming from the cliff's edge, thrown by explosions
I am living with a married couple who have a child. I do not like this
arrangement and intend to move out soon. The couple invites me to the
top of our apartment building which is situated in a valley somewhere
in Colorado. We hang out, looking at the mountains that tower and loom
above the apartment building.
There is an experimental space shuttle doing loops in the sky above
us. This is fun to watch, but then it becomes clear it is going to
crash into our building. It first slams into a huge antenna array and
then impacts the building, puncturing it through the roof. The couple
and their child are caught by the shuttle and crushed. I run down the
stairs among a mass of hysterical residents. For some reason, most of
them are paunchy middle-aged men in business suits. There is
destruction and death everywhere as the building collapses.
I manage to escape the building and watch as half of it crumbles
behind me. I have a panic attack and lie on the ground shaking and
crying. My mom and sister appear and try to console me. They talk me
down from my attack and I explain to them that my computer was in
there and wasn't backed up and it has all of my memories in it; that
without it I'm essentially going to suffer amnesia.
They try to convince me to just let it go. My sister gives me a pink
netbook to use and while I really like it, I need my data. It feels
like a matter of life and death, as if to lose the memories on my
laptop would be to die and born again as some new person. This
I run from my family and push past the fire rescue teams and run
through the smoke and rubble and find my laptop. It's been smashed
into pieces by a fallen girder. I pray the hard drive is intact and
gather the pieces into my arms, crying.
I'm trying to take MARTA to a coffeeshop to do some work. Things are more or less normal except that King Memorial is covered in rickety old-timey scaffolding. I climb up it and just barely squeeze through the doors as the train is leaving.
I don't pay much attention to where we are but then the train grinds to a halt. The doors are thrown open. There is no driver: it was robot controlled the whole time.
The riders (of which there are many: this train is twice as long as your average rush-hour blue line) stumble out into a barren, tundra-laden, wild-russia landscape. We must walk to the next station; and it is a long journey. We consult the winds and decide the next station is probably Edgewood/Candler Park.
For some reason I am elected head of our public transit trail of tears. Many fall. We forge into huge snowdrifts and I am nearly lost to slush quicksand on the edge of a frozen river hidden under feet of snow.
We continue. The weather warms up some and the surroundings become more pleasant. There is birdsong. Many have died in our wake.
I see a great hill that is mostly exposed dirt and rock. I decide that surely, the next MARTA station is just over that ridge! I run for the hill and forget about my people. Old women die of cancer as I run and they lie prostrate all around me. I feel awful for them but I HAVE TO GET TO EDGEWOOD/CANDLER PARK STATION.
I scale the hill; it leaves me exhauste. At the top there is a road. I follow it but instead of going anywhere helpful it instead goes into a strange little town that has been left unchanged since 1876. I play some shitty boring game involving a wooden ball with some sooty 19th century kids and then I wake up.
i am watching a documentary about mass grave pits. the pits have been excavated with a large cylindrical hole straight down their center and a camera on a robot arm thing is slowly traveling up and down the walls of the hole revealing a cross section of the grave.
the soil is thick with bog people corpses. among the rot there are occasional aspects of life; they seem to have been planted by the film makers. these are little clusters of rich purple berries, nests with little baby birds, bright fl and bustling insect colonies.
there is voice over narration but it is just mumbles. the voice morphs from vaguely female to vaguely male and back but is always unintelligible.
the dream simply went on like this.
i take A_______ on a date to this drive-up sonic type restaurant (vegan though) that is a virtual reality dinner theatre where you pick a type of dinosaur and a super hero and little AI versions of them battle to the death in a small jungle-themed platform that looks like the battle squares from super mario RPG. the default preset was "TRex vs. Batman" but to mix it up we watched "Stegosaurus vs. Aquaman" while eating veggie burgers. Aquaman was ripped apart and stomped on.
after dinner we went to a lovecraft museum. we broke into the basement. it consisted of several rooms that were copies of the upstairs rooms of my late grandfather's house. in one room was a sick woman with waist-long black hair in a white nightgown. she was breathing but basically comatose and wouldn't make eye-contact with us. the door was opened and we thought we were found out by the head of the household but it was a dark golem of some kind bearing a platter; the golem proceeded to spoon some kind of slop into the comatose woman's mouth.
we moved on to another room and found some kind of shrine. it was set up kind of church-like with scattered folding chairs facing a blank wall. the wall adjacent had a long shelf with scale models of Ngranek (a great mountain) and a dark tower of sorts.
we sat and the head of the house came down. he seemed pleased that we were there for "worship". the ritual began; a dark ambient drone filled the room and the blank walls started lighting up with strange monochrome maps of eastern europe and pictures of shambling, hairy black things. the small model of Ngranek replicated itself and grew larger, the walls broke away and we were suspended in shitty brown folding chairs over the great peak. a torrent of skulls rained down from the sky and we were back in the basement and everything was normal again.
the dude left and we walked out a door to the outside where it was raining and gray. i think it was portland.
we make our way to an office party held at my apartment. unfortunately a coworker has a serious grudge on me and learned sorcery. he used it to turn the floor of my apartment into a portal to a particularly raging/shark-filled area of ocean. the floor was an illusion and if you stepped unaware you'd drown or be eaten. all of the party guests showed up and got trapped on a few precious squares of non-transformed linoleum. we had to gingerly dip fingers "into" linoleum squares to figure out which were oceanic. we construct a boat out of furniture and most of us make it to the kitchen. the party starts there, where it is safe, as the unlucky ones who slipped and fell are ripped apart by sharks. i weep because lots of my books were lost in the ocean.
i'm in a coffeeshop and there is this long table next to my little one. it is full of older people who are all chanting liberal things. they bang on pot lids and blow whistles and say things like "Legalize it" and "Make love not war!" it is evidently a birthday party for a 69 year old man who has many buttons on his hat
i have convinced my job to send me to a conference in Russia about augmented reality. i rush into the conference room to get my swag which is a small computer (slightly larger than rasp pi), head gear, and some kind of power glove. everyone puts it on and you can create illusions around yourself and the world that the augmented reality reveals to you through your headset.
the conference devolves into chaos and augmented reality takes over. i am threatened by some AR thugs who convince me to put some illusion of valuable money on my shoe and walk around. when other users attempt to dive and grab it from my foot they will accuse them of thievery and beat them up, in the process stealing any valuables on their person (AR or otherwise).
i am stuck in the back of a very small and claustrophobic marta bus. it is night and i don't know where i am. ahead of me also smushed in with the many people on board is a tall, older black man. he is discussing microchips and how they are put into babies and then tracked using devices like iphones / tablets. he was very proud of himself for not owning any such things, even a cell phone.
this conversation embarrasses me so i look at the floor and notice a dark puddle of liquid pooling around my feet. it is emanating from a seat behind me and i worry i am being urinated on. this makes me feel worse so i look back up.
the older man is now talking about vietnam and the illuminati with a younger guy whose smart phone is full of illuminati pictures.
i go to mars. there is a space base there and my great grandfather is alive and is also Prince Phillip. he is a drunk and not very nice but he leads me to a chamber where i witness a holographic replaying of my (paternal) grandfather (his son) landing on venus which is a tropical madness. my grandfather is toiling and suffering, stripping off his space suit to get horrible parasites out of it and sweating profusely and dying of dehydration. i am unable to distinguish the hologram from reality; suddenly the holograph of my grandfather comes out and he is very tired / sad. he leads me to a porch (the covered front room of his house) and sits and starts to drink whiskey. my great grandfather (prince Phillip) is acting pathetic and drinks himself into a stupor in the corner.
the ghost of my late (maternal) grandmother shows up on the porch and she is so happy, happier than i ever witnessed her being in life. she smiles and i'm overwhelmed by it and start crying. then i woke up.
i am a hopped up space marine with a giant rifle thing and power armor of some kind. I'm one of few remaining on a space station where Alien-style aliens (but more insect like) have taken over. when we die, some service on the station wraps a forcefield around our body and buries us in some organic wastematter to be reborn.
a flaw in the facility forces me out of the waste-womb early and i don't get suited into power armor or receive a weapon. i am terrified and tip toe around the station. my former space marine bravado has been replaced by a whimpering fear.
i come upon a workshop. it does not contain humans. rather, i find that the aliens have merged with the ship's robotic facilities to produce humanoid, semi-organic androids. one is busy operating on a still fully organic member of their race. behind it is another who looks mean. he has a bucket like head and looks kind of like the interrogator room droid from return of the jedi. i watch him gently slide his hand in and out of a force field produced by the ship; i realize they've figured out how to penetrate them.
my realization that we will all soon die prevents me from moving. the mean looking android sees me and picks up a glowing blue cudgel; it looks like a beer bottle but is clearly a weapon of some kind. he slowly marches towards me. he knows i am frail and weak and cannot escape.
i had to force myself awake as he slowly stepped towards me brandishing the cudgel.