The third, and, as of yet final (I haven't gone to sleep since this dream ended, perhaps it'll resume tonight. I'd love to see where my relationship with Emma Watson ends up going...) dream in the vivid trilogy (vivilogy?) that I had last night.
I crested a hill and broke through the tree cover to find myself looking down on a grand lake; the water sparkled brighter than the glint in a child's eyes and the sand could have been powdered gold. We found where the party had relocated to after the cars had torn through everyone and reduced the attendees by at least fifty.
In a 2000 person party, that doesn't make much of a difference. Everyone seemed to have forgotten; we were all dancing, singing, drinking. We were so many miles deep into the forest by now that it would take a day to walk back out.
I found a beautiful girl whose eyes sucked me towards her from a hundred feet away. I chatted her up awkwardly, trying not to be too infatuated with her golden locks. We had some chemistry, and when I was worried I saw some of the drivers from earlier (who I now came to realize were together with the man and the shotgun I'd seen in my house in the first dream) I had no second guesses when I grabbed her and dove into the water, pulling her as quickly as I could to the other shore without trying to break our heads above water.
Once we reached the shore, she smiled at me.
"There's nobody with guns..."
There was sure as shit something else though, because we heard an explosion that rocked the whole forest. The party kept dancing until we heard another explosion, when everyone looked up - the tallest trees in the forest were leaning, falling, and crashing down. Beneath gaps in the trees, I could see the same drivers - though now they had no cars, they had chainsaws, and they were cutting down trees and pushing them onto the party in hopes of crushing the rest of our friends.
People didn't need to be told twice to run, and as they ran, the drivers were quick to replace their chainsaws with shotguns and another chase ensued. I lost track of my girl as I fled through paths, made my own paths, cut through underbrush and over hills. How they were always on our track I didn't know - there were only two dozen of them and two thousand of us.
We ran past camps in the forest - old, sagging tents with moss growing on them that looked as if they'd been left for years, but as we fled past men grumbled and groaned inside. Were they more of the men with guns? Were they innocent bystanders?
We ran faster.
As we fled - we must have been fourteen or fifteen miles deep into this massive forest - we found that the men had surrounded us from outside the perimeter of our group of runners and had essentially herded us towards a massive escalator that rose from the forest floor. I managed to get on first and rode my way up...
Above the forest canopy was a massive platform of alien material; silicon technology and a ship that could have dwarfed the world's biggest cruise ship. Thinking quick, I pulled a bazooka out of my pocket and blasted the head off the first guard I saw, taking his uniform and slipping inside the building in hopes of getting some details to help save my friends as they were all herded on.
It didn't work so well. They didn't suspect anything at first, but as I asked questions they considered stupid, things began to become obvious.
"Why kill them?"
"Are you stupid? We only shoot the ones that are running. Those who stand still are freed."
At this point a tube of toothpaste fell out of my pocket and I'd deduced by now that these creatures were - as human as they looked - not human.
"What the fuck is that?" the guard growled.
"I'm not sure," I hesitated. "I found it on lower deck and thought it tasted kind of interesting."
The guard, bulked out in a off-green full body suit and helmet like mine, took a lick and agreed.
I went outside. The entire party by now had been shoved en masse up the escalator and the sky was humid with screams of terror and pain; thick with sobs and wails. A few had discovered that if they didn't move, they wouldn't be shot at, but this still led them with no hope - would they rather stay on this platform, stock-still, until they starved to death?
I watched one of my friends throw him off the edge of the platform and my vision followed him as he fell the three hundred feet towards what he hoped would be death; the floor cushioned him enough only to snap both of his legs and as his shins tore through his flesh he cried out and my vision left him to rot on the forest floor.
I left my body now and began to watch the stragglers on the ground. An alien had extended a ladder from the platform with the ship and two brothers and a sister were clinging to it; the alien had a pen and paper held out and promised once the brother atop gave the rest of his family's names to the alien he'd let them free. He didn't want to, and the ladder was being pulled higher and higher, but he finally did and the alien smiled and waved. He disconnected the ladder and the three young ones fell to their deaths, save for the brother on top who was flung into a lake.
With hope regained, he swam to the edge and tentatively swam out. Was he free? So excited by the thought, he tripped and fell onto a spring-launched tree branch that flung him a hundred feed in the air. When he hit ground, he landed in a pile of grass and died.
I now took the consciousness of Emma Watson as how she looked when she played Hermione in Harry Potter. I was with whoever the fuck played Ginny. Regardless, we were two lesbian lovers (yes, this dream was that awesome) that had somehow managed to escape the aliens... but now we had to combat, by ourselves, the foes of the forest - jaguars, angry otters, skunks who had never come close to us during the rave or during our flee. We walked for miles and miles until we decided to take a swim... an otter, pissed off, swam towards us, and I (as Ginny) wrung its neck. Emma looked at me seductively and we held eachother close in the water for a while and talked about how we'd both done lots of acid and mushrooms in our teenagehood.
Now content that we were in love, we walked and sung and climbed logs over ravines and ran and ran and ran. We passed the camps we'd seen earlier, and men still grumbled inside, so we DASHED. Were they leftover aliens still here to reclaim any stragglers? Didn't know, didn't care - just ran. We ran until we found another escalator that took us up to a small town filled with strange people... I suspect they were aliens in disguise as people, because they had blank faces and walked monotonously. They looked like automatons. Fortunately they didn't notice us as we crept through town, but on the other side we found ourselves back at the massive spaceship where our friends had all been rounded into the lower deck. It hadn't departed yet, and fear pumped through us as we realized we'd just been tricked into walking into a circle to give us the illusion of freedom and then tear us back into a world of pain.
We didn't walk back out of town, we ran. Ran, ran, ran. Again, the forest flew by so fast that I'd say we must have been going at least 120 km/h...
we made it back to the lake where the men had first started cutting trees down onto our friends and that's all I remember, for now.
Tuesday, 11 August 2015
Rave Gone Wrong pt.1
This is the second part in last night's trilogy. This dream took place after the first time I woke up and fell asleep. Initially, there was absolutely no relevance to the dream prior, but within the dream there were several flashbacks to the house I'd been in, in which I'd be staring at a TV screen with the same dream playing.
An old acquaintance Shane (who I haven't seen or even thought about really in a half-dozen years since we left high school) was throwing a massive rave in a field in a third-world country for his birthday. When I got there, there was a massive orgy. Tons of people I haven't seen since high school were all butt-naked, filling and having orifices filled, moaning and grunting. Beyond the orgy were flashing lights, bumping bass, typical rave shit.
Permeating all of this was a voice that ran through my head, consistently reminding me that "yours is the shittiest generation of travelers. Who does this to a third world country?"
As I tried to shake the voice, a different set of lights appeared: headlights. Then another set. Then a whole bunch more. As a dozen cars began to tear towards the field at high speed, the entire party scattered, fleeing towards the forest adjacent to the field. I have no idea how many of our friends got hit and trampled but there were a number of injuries. We waited out in the forest for the night and didn't know what to do in the morning. Nobody wanted to hitchhike away with the risk of those crazy fuckers driving past us.
SO - me and John, a homeboy I work with, decided to go fish for boobs. We set up a fishing rod with a hook on it and sat on a rocky outcropping above the path by which lots of girls were walking by. We'd dangle the hook in front of them until it would catch on one of their bras. It took a few times, but we finally hooked a bra and laughed our asses off until this big, burly, drunk native guy showed up.
We knew instantly that he'd been driving one of the cars last night and we got up to run as the braless woman below screamed and tried to cover herself. We ran... trees flew past at an unbelievable speed; if I were to equate the speed with which we ran into reality I'd say we were going at least 120 km/hrs. It took us only a couple minutes to get several miles into the forest - we'd completely lost ourselves, but we'd lost the drunk native man as well.
Here we were, on the other side of the forest, staring at the ocean... forest stretched to the horizon on either side.
How were we going to get back?
I figured I'd never find out, because I woke up to write down the dream after exploring the beach for a moment... but the trilogy continued when I fell back asleep.
An old acquaintance Shane (who I haven't seen or even thought about really in a half-dozen years since we left high school) was throwing a massive rave in a field in a third-world country for his birthday. When I got there, there was a massive orgy. Tons of people I haven't seen since high school were all butt-naked, filling and having orifices filled, moaning and grunting. Beyond the orgy were flashing lights, bumping bass, typical rave shit.
Permeating all of this was a voice that ran through my head, consistently reminding me that "yours is the shittiest generation of travelers. Who does this to a third world country?"
As I tried to shake the voice, a different set of lights appeared: headlights. Then another set. Then a whole bunch more. As a dozen cars began to tear towards the field at high speed, the entire party scattered, fleeing towards the forest adjacent to the field. I have no idea how many of our friends got hit and trampled but there were a number of injuries. We waited out in the forest for the night and didn't know what to do in the morning. Nobody wanted to hitchhike away with the risk of those crazy fuckers driving past us.
SO - me and John, a homeboy I work with, decided to go fish for boobs. We set up a fishing rod with a hook on it and sat on a rocky outcropping above the path by which lots of girls were walking by. We'd dangle the hook in front of them until it would catch on one of their bras. It took a few times, but we finally hooked a bra and laughed our asses off until this big, burly, drunk native guy showed up.
We knew instantly that he'd been driving one of the cars last night and we got up to run as the braless woman below screamed and tried to cover herself. We ran... trees flew past at an unbelievable speed; if I were to equate the speed with which we ran into reality I'd say we were going at least 120 km/hrs. It took us only a couple minutes to get several miles into the forest - we'd completely lost ourselves, but we'd lost the drunk native man as well.
Here we were, on the other side of the forest, staring at the ocean... forest stretched to the horizon on either side.
How were we going to get back?
I figured I'd never find out, because I woke up to write down the dream after exploring the beach for a moment... but the trilogy continued when I fell back asleep.
The Fateful Port-a-Potty
I've needed (in reality,) a new cell phone for a while, and I suspect that sparked the initial catalyst for this dream story to start.
In the dream, I awoke in "my" house and needed to poop. I didn't have any toilet paper, so I decided to go across the street where there was a row of port-a-potties set up behind a large building. Silhouettes wandered around in the night, distant drunk ramblings and cheers illuminated the horizon.
I went into the first port-a-potty, pulled the pin out of the TP dispenser, grabbed a few rolls and stuck them into my belt loops. (apparently my belt loops were hella loose.) I noticed, as I was doing this, there were tons of half-full liquor bottles - gin, tequila, vodka. I considered drinking them but found that disgusting, but realizing that this meant there had clearly been a shit ton of drunk people in these outhouses I decided I'd check the other ones for any dropped valuables.
The first two had nothing, but the third outhouse had a crumpled pair of pants on the ground. Cautious of gross they might be, I picked 'em up and felt a heavy weight in the pockets. BAM. I pulled out a Samsung Galaxy S4 and a wallet that was chock full of something. I dumped the pants on the ground and hustled out quickly.
As I stepped out of the outhouse I found the sun had completely risen, despite being completely dark a minute ago and the new phone saying it was only 4:45 AM. My first step was to log onto facebook - which means I had to log whoever's phone this was out. As I went to log him out, I noticed he shared a lot of friends with me... but friends of mine from BC. No close friends of mine lived in Nova Scotia... I thought this quite strange, but there were other people I didn't recognize, and I didn't recognize his name (or tried to avoid it so in case I knew them I wouldn't feel guilty about stealing their phone.) It looked like our facebooks had been merged. I began to wonder if I was being set up
as I signed out of facebook I read the last of his received text messages. The timestamps said they'd all been sent in the last hour - presumably either after he'd lost his pants or right before he'd lost them. They said things like
i'll fucking kill you
we're coming fuckhead
you fucked up
and I figured maybe that's why he dumped the phone. Were they tracking him via GPS? By now I'd returned home and was feeling pretty uncomfortable because if they were tracking him by GPS, they'd be coming to my house. So, I went to chuck the phone out. I was scared to even open the front door.
I saw my "dad" walk down the hallway.
"They're gonna kill us," I warned him.
"We're fine, man. I'll get some ice cream."
"They'll kill you," I persisted, "as soon as you get that ice cream."
He wandered into the kitchen, wandered out with the ice cream, and was promptly decimated by a barrage of bullets that someone climbing through our hallway window blasted through his body with an AK.
I fled back to my room and slammed the door, considering jumping out the window despite it being 8 stories tall. (Don't ask how the guy managed to climb into the hallway window.)
At this point, I realized I was dreaming, and the terror of having a man with a shotgun in my house was getting to me and I remembered that any time I get killed in a dream (which happens way too often) I wake up. So, I went outside and laughed at the assailant.
"Ha! It's not gonna hurt me when you shoot me, buds."
I was still a bit apprehensive as he cocked his gun. "Oh, it'll hurt."
He shot 14 rounds into me and they sort of fizzled out on my arm but didn't wake me up.
"Come on!" I shouted, irritated. I really wanted to wake up. (Stupid me - would have been a perfect opportunity to explore a lucid dream)
He shot me again and I woke up - coincidentally just as my friend rolled over and bumped into me. Maybe if she hadn't I'd have had a chance to keep dreaming...
In the dream, I awoke in "my" house and needed to poop. I didn't have any toilet paper, so I decided to go across the street where there was a row of port-a-potties set up behind a large building. Silhouettes wandered around in the night, distant drunk ramblings and cheers illuminated the horizon.
I went into the first port-a-potty, pulled the pin out of the TP dispenser, grabbed a few rolls and stuck them into my belt loops. (apparently my belt loops were hella loose.) I noticed, as I was doing this, there were tons of half-full liquor bottles - gin, tequila, vodka. I considered drinking them but found that disgusting, but realizing that this meant there had clearly been a shit ton of drunk people in these outhouses I decided I'd check the other ones for any dropped valuables.
The first two had nothing, but the third outhouse had a crumpled pair of pants on the ground. Cautious of gross they might be, I picked 'em up and felt a heavy weight in the pockets. BAM. I pulled out a Samsung Galaxy S4 and a wallet that was chock full of something. I dumped the pants on the ground and hustled out quickly.
As I stepped out of the outhouse I found the sun had completely risen, despite being completely dark a minute ago and the new phone saying it was only 4:45 AM. My first step was to log onto facebook - which means I had to log whoever's phone this was out. As I went to log him out, I noticed he shared a lot of friends with me... but friends of mine from BC. No close friends of mine lived in Nova Scotia... I thought this quite strange, but there were other people I didn't recognize, and I didn't recognize his name (or tried to avoid it so in case I knew them I wouldn't feel guilty about stealing their phone.) It looked like our facebooks had been merged. I began to wonder if I was being set up
as I signed out of facebook I read the last of his received text messages. The timestamps said they'd all been sent in the last hour - presumably either after he'd lost his pants or right before he'd lost them. They said things like
i'll fucking kill you
we're coming fuckhead
you fucked up
and I figured maybe that's why he dumped the phone. Were they tracking him via GPS? By now I'd returned home and was feeling pretty uncomfortable because if they were tracking him by GPS, they'd be coming to my house. So, I went to chuck the phone out. I was scared to even open the front door.
I saw my "dad" walk down the hallway.
"They're gonna kill us," I warned him.
"We're fine, man. I'll get some ice cream."
"They'll kill you," I persisted, "as soon as you get that ice cream."
He wandered into the kitchen, wandered out with the ice cream, and was promptly decimated by a barrage of bullets that someone climbing through our hallway window blasted through his body with an AK.
I fled back to my room and slammed the door, considering jumping out the window despite it being 8 stories tall. (Don't ask how the guy managed to climb into the hallway window.)
At this point, I realized I was dreaming, and the terror of having a man with a shotgun in my house was getting to me and I remembered that any time I get killed in a dream (which happens way too often) I wake up. So, I went outside and laughed at the assailant.
"Ha! It's not gonna hurt me when you shoot me, buds."
I was still a bit apprehensive as he cocked his gun. "Oh, it'll hurt."
He shot 14 rounds into me and they sort of fizzled out on my arm but didn't wake me up.
"Come on!" I shouted, irritated. I really wanted to wake up. (Stupid me - would have been a perfect opportunity to explore a lucid dream)
He shot me again and I woke up - coincidentally just as my friend rolled over and bumped into me. Maybe if she hadn't I'd have had a chance to keep dreaming...
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