I was in a seminar room with a lot of people. At one point I noticed I was naked, and although it didn't seem to be out of place there, I decided to cover up with a nearby robe, since they just thanked President Obama for being there and he was lingering and socializing on the side of the large hall. I took my seat and they presented a short movie which was supposed to be the latest Harry Potter film, in which all the wizards leave their own reality and join ours, and they do this by operating a submarine through a river which was supposed to be space, past a whirl pool that was supposed to be the big bang and the beginning of time and down the path that our local universe had evolved, in order to live a "normal," non-magical life.
At the back of the room I ran into a councellor that I recalled being flirtatious with me as I got more cake. She was still flirting with me, but she seemed very high on drugs. I was a little concerned for her that her employers would take exception to her being inebriated on the job. She didn't seem to get the film in which space was represented by water with an obvious shore-line and surface. I said, "Who's to say that space doesn't have a shore-line somewhere?" That gave her pause to think. I finished my cake.
I woke up in a hospital bed and my girlfriend was there sitting on a couch. There was a doctor there, who at first I thought was there to help me. He connected a harness to my head, like a set of headphones, but the nodes went over my left ear and left eye. He said something about sending an electrical impulse to a certain location in my brain and causing damage there. I thought he must be joking. The device counted down and built up intensity until I felt a painful charge go through me. He then took it off and placed it over the other eye/ear. He began speaking like a mad scientist, saying something about how experimenting on me was going to do something great for humanity. It was so trite, I still couldn't take him seriously, but the pain in my head indicated otherwise and the fact that he wouldn't release me and continued holding me against my will.
With great effort, I broke free of my restraints and attacked him, putting him in a headlock and snapping his neck. I then told my girlfriend to grab as much of my stuff as she could. Apparently, much of my belongings and books had been brought to my hospital room to make my stay more comfortable. I wasn't about to leave all my things here.
As we left the room, I encountered another employee, who was about to enter a nearby room, carrying a medical bag full of utensils. I still didn't know what to make of this place or the people in it. Upon seeing me, he immediately attacked me, swinging his bag and hitting me in the head. I was actually grateful for the action because it relieved my conscience of what was to follow, as it reaffirmed the danger I was in. I seized hold of the man and wrestled him into the room I had just come out of and began banging his head on the floor until he was dead. I then placed him on my bed and we left.
Trying to make sense of it, it seemed to me that the people running the seminar were some kind of cult and had abducted me by drugging the cake. They know my weakness.
Monday, May 9, 2016
Sunday, July 12, 2015
Kennedy Assassination Dream
I just dreamed that a friend and I were time travelling and attempting to stop the Kennedy assignation, only this time due to changes in the temporal flux or whatever (or because I dream whatever the hell I happen to dream), it was happening instead in the same restaurant that my brother was having a date with his new bride in some kind of merging of 1963 and 2015.
While we were waiting for a table, I saw the girl I wanted to to talk to with her parents. We exchanged some pleasantries, but I was distracted and time was getting very short. Then her parents started moving toward the exit and she apologetically said her goodbyes and escaped out the door before I could persuade her otherwise. I was about to call her from my cell and say, "You're gonna wanna stick around for this," (she was about to miss a historic moment) but then how would I explain to the NSA, undoubtedly eavesdropping my phone, that I knew the president was going to be assassinated?
I let go of that and decided to focus. I reached into my jacket pocket and felt the cold steel of the revolver there that I was going to shoot the assassin with when he walked in. I planned, of course, to wait until he drew his and pointed it at the president, both because I wasn't sure what the guy looked like (face it, you don't either) and because I prefer to end this looking like a hero than a deranged killer. Timing would be of the essence, and if I failed, well... not much would be different from the timeline I grew up with, so failure was still an option.
I looked at my friend and asked, "Are you sure you even want to do this? This is going to turn into a hell of an ordeal if we don't like the changes it makes to the timeline." On the conscious level of the dreamer, I was second guessing how long and involved I wanted this dream to be, but on the awareness level of the character I played, I continued to be engrossed in the dream (this was the moment the dream could have become lucid). He gave me a look as if to say, "Why not?"
I checked my phone again. We were getting down to minutes. I walked back and saw my brother and his wife sitting in the booth in the left corner. They hadn't ordered yet. Kennedy and his company were sitting in the booth in the right corner, their meal well underway. My friend and I still couldn't get a table and we had been waiting forever. This was getting ridiculous. I had already made the decision to order whatever I want since I wouldn't have to pay for it (who would make someone pay for their dinner after either witnessing an assassination or stopping one, especially after I give them the old, "I'm never coming back here again!") It didn't matter now. The wait was so long, I wasn't even going to have a chance to order and have anything arrive, which was really frustrating and pressing on my mind as equally as the pending shootout. I can't believe we didn't make reservations. Time travelling with a full knowledge of the future and still terrible at making plans.
The place had an ass load of people and it was hard to move. Of course Kennedy couldn't get assassinated on a slow night. I barely got to talk to the girl I am interested in, didn't get a table OR a free meal, had to wait forever and now I would have to shoot someone on an empty stomach. Dreams have a way of dangling everything in front of you while letting your struggle at some unresolvable goal.
But I decided to forget all that. It was time to get serious about waiting for the assassin. At least one thing about this night can go right. I looked at my friend. "That's it. We're going to sit with Timothy."
"But he's on a date with his new bride," he said. "We can't sit with him."
"Doesn't matter," I replied. "Let's go crash his party, shoot the shit for a bit and keep an eye on the door. He'll be irritated, but this is all going to be over in a few minutes. Make sure you comment on her dress."
We start heading that way, my hand resting on the gun handle in my jacket. This was where I woke up.
While we were waiting for a table, I saw the girl I wanted to to talk to with her parents. We exchanged some pleasantries, but I was distracted and time was getting very short. Then her parents started moving toward the exit and she apologetically said her goodbyes and escaped out the door before I could persuade her otherwise. I was about to call her from my cell and say, "You're gonna wanna stick around for this," (she was about to miss a historic moment) but then how would I explain to the NSA, undoubtedly eavesdropping my phone, that I knew the president was going to be assassinated?
I let go of that and decided to focus. I reached into my jacket pocket and felt the cold steel of the revolver there that I was going to shoot the assassin with when he walked in. I planned, of course, to wait until he drew his and pointed it at the president, both because I wasn't sure what the guy looked like (face it, you don't either) and because I prefer to end this looking like a hero than a deranged killer. Timing would be of the essence, and if I failed, well... not much would be different from the timeline I grew up with, so failure was still an option.
I looked at my friend and asked, "Are you sure you even want to do this? This is going to turn into a hell of an ordeal if we don't like the changes it makes to the timeline." On the conscious level of the dreamer, I was second guessing how long and involved I wanted this dream to be, but on the awareness level of the character I played, I continued to be engrossed in the dream (this was the moment the dream could have become lucid). He gave me a look as if to say, "Why not?"
I checked my phone again. We were getting down to minutes. I walked back and saw my brother and his wife sitting in the booth in the left corner. They hadn't ordered yet. Kennedy and his company were sitting in the booth in the right corner, their meal well underway. My friend and I still couldn't get a table and we had been waiting forever. This was getting ridiculous. I had already made the decision to order whatever I want since I wouldn't have to pay for it (who would make someone pay for their dinner after either witnessing an assassination or stopping one, especially after I give them the old, "I'm never coming back here again!") It didn't matter now. The wait was so long, I wasn't even going to have a chance to order and have anything arrive, which was really frustrating and pressing on my mind as equally as the pending shootout. I can't believe we didn't make reservations. Time travelling with a full knowledge of the future and still terrible at making plans.
The place had an ass load of people and it was hard to move. Of course Kennedy couldn't get assassinated on a slow night. I barely got to talk to the girl I am interested in, didn't get a table OR a free meal, had to wait forever and now I would have to shoot someone on an empty stomach. Dreams have a way of dangling everything in front of you while letting your struggle at some unresolvable goal.
But I decided to forget all that. It was time to get serious about waiting for the assassin. At least one thing about this night can go right. I looked at my friend. "That's it. We're going to sit with Timothy."
"But he's on a date with his new bride," he said. "We can't sit with him."
"Doesn't matter," I replied. "Let's go crash his party, shoot the shit for a bit and keep an eye on the door. He'll be irritated, but this is all going to be over in a few minutes. Make sure you comment on her dress."
We start heading that way, my hand resting on the gun handle in my jacket. This was where I woke up.
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