Replaying the same video game level repeatedly. It’s a military campaign, like a map from Command & Conquer. Re-learning with each failure, avoiding certain areas. The only way to win is to fail — repeatedly.
A white-colored Dutch boombox radio. I realize it’s supposed to be a breeding machine for something, producing offspring (or helping produce offspring).
Examining my toes, I see that the middle toe is actually smaller than all the rest.
On the exam on the last day of school I have a series of very intense reactions, and very intense answers to the provocative questions.
Swinging from redwood tree to tree like Spiderman, I chase after two items being carried by Latino families. These are the last two remaining, perhaps from an earlier dream. I see the families on HUD and can track them with ease.
During a quiet moment in mid-swing, I observe a hawk flying past.
Sleeping under the curved wooden rafters of a roof like an eggshell. Reminiscent of my middle school gym.
All else lost, no further notes were made this night.
Having just re-watched “Scott Pilgrim vs. The World”, it should come as no surprise that I just dreamt of Ramona Flowers. I almost forgot that’s basically her whole thing for awhile there; skating through people’s dreams on subspace highways running though their heads. What’s maybe a bit unexpected is was my errant though that I would see her in my dreams tonight, and then actually seeing her. I can’t remember much else.
A huge flat wall of an image, a drawing of yellow red and purple swirls. I used an image like this recently in a project to illustrate stage 3 of Salvia divinorum ingestion.
Distinct imagery with eyes closed: fractal patterns, geometric or vine-like motifs, stable impressions of objects and designs, mostly all 2-dimensional. If visual effects are seen with eyes open, these are often vague and fleeting. Comparable to hypnagogic phenomena sometimes experienced at sleep onset. Open or closed eyes, visions are perceived as “eye candy”, not confused with reality.
Sitting round a table. My Homepie friend Mickey is there, and though I call him Mickey it’s been just so long since I’ve seen him. I obliquely mention cocaine in terms of it being “someone’s favorite”, and he brings out some (or at least what appears to be) on a beautiful hand-carved driftwood table.
Searching the garage in my childhood home, cleaning up my dad’s workbench with my mom — but it’s against the adjacent wall, where the books were. A tiny CFL bulbs roll off the table as we work. I’m exhausted and lay down on a couch on my stomach. A classmate of mine from elementary and middle school, Emily McIntosh, uses a tele-robotically-controlled rat to explore while I then rest peacefully on my back.
While hanging and swinging from a bar out the door to the backyard, I have a creative idea for my website: using vector outlines of patterns to fill with dynamic colors customized to the individual posts.
Fragments of dreams:
- A table on a stage
- Saving some friends for a demonstration
- An object rising though the air and into the realm of gods
- On the far wall, an inscribed poster
- A StarCraft video game level of criss-crossing lines, where you start out as a character on the edge, and your objective is to lure the enemy into the lines away from safety
- A broken lamp
- Ramona Flowers
Projecting movies on a TV screen. A big group, of freedom fighters or friends, or something else.
A child is born in an unusual store. I view a gigantic turtle in a swim tank, bigger than Archelon, alongside its human trainers/companions.
“Diachromazita” — a name/term out of a dream the night before, the only surviving fragment of it, and interesting enough to be worthy of naming something after.
A buried airliner under snow, caught in a pipe.
The Pepper’s ghost illusion on stage for half a show, but it’s no illusion. A folk singer starts into a spare song and I idly hope ends it with huge brass band.
Holding eight baby chimpanzees in my/your arms. At the end of a hall, behind a curtain, during a film shoot.
An old-timey cruise ship, looks like the Titanic, tilt-y coming out of port. A thin cliffside gorge, zig-zagging along back-and-forth paths. A bomb in old ceramic dish, beeping much too loud. My old crush’s birthday.
I come out of the bathroom, and a hummingbird follows me out, perching on my shoulder.
$36 shoes. Comes with an abuse form filled out during a factory inspection.