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  • Pinky's Dreams

    I've had extremely vivid dreams all my life that I remember in great detail after I wake up, and can still remember years later. I don't know where they come from, but it feels like I'm really there, as someone else, and when I wake up again I'm usually very surprised to find myself back in this life in my bed. Sometimes I'm disappointed to come back because I never find out how the story ends, sometimes they're more cryptic and I have no idea why I saw what I saw.

    I know dreams are the way we process our stuff, but I also know aboriginal peoples coined words for certain kinds of dreams, like soul traveling, to put it simply. These dreams are not the same as visions. Visions usually carry portent or some kind of direct communication, but my story dreams are exactly that- other people's stories in other places and times.

    The first introduction I had to this idea was in Terry Pratchett's book Wyrd Sisters. Hwel wrote plays for the Dysk Theater from dreams he had, and the stories would come so fast while he slept that he barely had time to write even a handful of it. That's how I've felt all my life.

    I used to be a terrible writer. I had to learn it in college, practicing essays and literary criticism and technical summaries and eventually stuff like a 50-page paper, and it was very laborious. I've kept handwritten journals for many years. Twelve years ago I transitioned to blog journals. Two years ago I transitioned to all-public blogging. It's definitely not for the faint-hearted. I've seen all the advice out there. All I can say is if you aren't slogging through a million words with your own brains for years and years, all the advice in the world isn't going to make you a better writer. It comes from heart and soul. You either love and crave word construction, or you don't. You know you're a writer when you can't stop writing. I see writers as intellectual athletes, willing to put the work into doing what it takes to convey ideas well. Sharing dreams is a great writing exercise if some of you feel stumped.

    Back to the dreams. If I'd written out all my dreams I'd have books and books and books out there. Some might even be movies by now. But just because I dream it doesn't mean I feel compelled to write it out. Some of them are super awesome and some of them are crap, and either way they all make great writing practice. I sprinkle them through blogs here and there, have thought through the years I should make a dream blog, but really don't need to make another blog, you know? But once in awhile I need to write them out of my way, if that makes sense, so I think I'll put them here. Maybe one day down the road I'll link back to other dreams so they're all in one collection here.
    790: You're wasting your energy attempting to force my cooperation.
    I have no sense of self-preservation and I can always be reassembled.
    sigpic

  • #2
    The Inverse Incursion

    Last night's dream was a neverending blitz after blitz and people running. It started with living in a big communal building about 4 or 5 floors up, my rooms were on the outermost corner of the main street side. It was like apartments had been gutted out and sort of repartitioned, no more locked doors, everyone was in the same boat, all work together through daily living kind of thing. Families intermingled, children especially coming and going as they played, and before it all started I remember several different supper smells going on and about ten people coming together for a meal in the rooms I lived in.

    I happened to look out the window and caught a glimpse of a military ranked helio transport gunner and thought hell... I yelled for everyone to get to the inner rooms just as the blasting started, taking out the fronts of building all up and down the street, and the only reason we got away was because we were the last in the shooting lineup. Everyone knew their designated safe areas, top priority being inside and down, because the further into the building you could get, the more likely you would survive frontal assault. Everyone knew this. It didn't stop people from jumping out windows and hauling ass out doors and scattering across the streets, and as I got near the building center, a hole blasted through and I could see why- the entire building was being razed. Time to abandon the building.

    One guy and I in particular wound up running the same direction. We'd known each other for years, each with our own families, each watching our families get picked and killed off over the years. We'd learned to cooperate through a number of challenges, but that never seemed to make us friends. We kept an inherent distrust in place between us, probably assuming it was an emotional safety mechanism. I didn't think about it beyond that. By the time I cleared the building, I knew my family hadn't, and by the time he caught up with me, I knew his hadn't, either. Everyone knew you never went back. Never looked back. The only way to keep surviving was to keep finding holes, keep running, keep looking ahead. People would drift from shattered groups to new groups, and groups were always changing. Everyone knew that.

    He was easy to work with in crisis. He knew all the shortcut lingo, all the gestures, almost like we could read each other's minds. We both instinctively headed for higher ground just outside the residential district so we could look back and assess what had happened and maybe guess what would be coming next. The gaping carnage glancing back told us it was far from over, and as smaller helios spread out dropping teams nearby, we knew we had to breach whatever boundary they were about to set up as quickly as possible.

    That meant changing direction and heading for the government buildings. A few of the closer refugees were already flooding into the front desk areas, so it was easy to duck in among them and then duck back out into back hallways and head for certain offices. I was surprised to notice he seemed to know the hallways as well as I did. Maybe better.

    We managed to avoid being noticed, kept moving, ducking in and out of offices and hallways as the mad scramble for control of the surging masses emptied nearly all personnel areas. I'm not ashamed to say I grabbed as many snacks as I could stuff into my shirt from a break room, and nearly carried out a pot of coffee, but decided against it and set it down on a counter by the door as I glanced up and down the hallway. He was coming out of an office nearly opposite and motioned me over, whispered in my ear that what he'd found on a computer cinched what we'd been guessing- this was a coup. Collateral damage would be rampant, and this and other government buildings were probably next on the agenda. Apparently some of the personnel were figuring that out, too, and we ducked into their panicky race to flee their own building, getting outside in full view without a single glance our way.

    I had about reached mind blown stage by the time we cleared the building and made it past a parking lot and a greenway, finally alone again. This guy. Who was he? And I guess he was arriving there, too, as we both reached for each other's shirts, got in each other's faces, suddenly demanding answers. I never got them. I woke up. But clearly we'd both worked as civil authority, clearly we'd both disappeared from our jobs and holed up hiding, and very clearly we had no clue whether we would kill each other or not. I realized I actually cared about this guy, didn't want to kill him, could probably be good friends with him, and maybe that's why he hesitated, too.

    And that's all I know. I woke up, I'm here and not there, and I'll never know what happened. It felt too real to just make up the rest.
    Last edited by Pinky; 01-29-2016, 09:17 PM.
    790: You're wasting your energy attempting to force my cooperation.
    I have no sense of self-preservation and I can always be reassembled.
    sigpic

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    • #3
      Interplanetary Tourism

      This dream was first posted on 1-11-15.

      I dreamed last night that we (my immediate and extended family on my side) were tourists on another planet, and one of the cool things to see was a gigantic 25 story building in the middle of a very strange and beautiful 'jungle' of wispy alien stuff. Every level in the building was a whole mini town, with lots of shops and things to do, places to eat, medical stuff, etc. We had to go up to the top on a very slow elevator that took a couple of hours, something about pressurizing. The top floor was awesome, but since we weren't used to such a different pressure, we couldn't stay long. When we reached our time limit, our chests would get tight and it would feel like we couldn't breathe or our hearts would explode.

      Well, burrito ran off... We fanned out, I texted out that I found her and that I'd meet everyone at a lower level, so they went on ahead. Except my sister. As I was headed back across the 'town', I saw her go into one of the medical places. I knew she'd be ok there, so I kept going. My chest started getting really tight, and I tried to call out and couldn't, which didn't matter because the town curfew was on and the place looked empty. I just kept walking, not sure if burrito could take much more, either.

      Made it to the elevator. They said since I'd gone over time that I would have to ride down way slower and stop an hour at each level till I got to level 3, so I spent the rest of my dream in a great big elevator going really really slow with nothing to do.

      I wish I could press my head against my laptop and transfer all the neat stuff I saw in my dream. In some ways it was like any kind of tourism, but in other ways it was so alien and cool everywhere I turned, all different from anything we've seen on this earth. If I tried to describe everything I've seen in my dreams through my life that I've never seen on a TV or in a movie, I'd never be able to stop writing. I have no idea how so much new stuff shows up in my head, and I usually remember most of it.

      I'm sure walking all over two hospitals the other day had a lot to do with this dream, as does having a holter monitor on again this weekend, but other than that, whatever the time limits were about had more to do with the alien planet than anything going on here when I'm awake. I think me calling out across the curfewed town is my twitter app crash on my phone. It's been weird not being able to tweet whenever I want.
      790: You're wasting your energy attempting to force my cooperation.
      I have no sense of self-preservation and I can always be reassembled.
      sigpic

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      • #4
        Zelenka

        This dream was first posted 10-20-15.

        My phone keeps warning me that storage is critically low. Every warning goes down to a new lower number, even though I faithfully clean and purge and wipe and restart- we're getting into the 19 mg free range now. Yeah, I'd say that's critical. I've eeked so much extra life outa this phone, far beyond its life expectancy.

        That reminds me of a dream I had years ago during my cave days, when I was taking a break from the internet. I had bought the Stargate Atlantis set so I could marathon at my convenience, and who knows what kicked this off, I know I was complaining back then of xanax making my dreams way too vivid and real and barely slept because sometimes they got so terrifying or sad that I just couldn't, so when I did sleep, I DREAMED. Maybe my brain was super dreaming trying to catch up from all the insomnia, who knows.

        At any rate, Zelenka had been dropped off on very small satellite station orbiting some ancient and now extinct planet or other, and was going to be picked back up in about 12 days. He had the long and tedious job of getting all systems back up, restored to original capacity (if possible), backed up, and then start on assessment and interpretation until rendezvous time. It was a really boring dream for the longest time, just watching a guy in a spacesuit reconfigure systems until he reached a point of being able to take off the suit, and then keep working on debugging and reinstallation for nonworking parts, just really intricate and tedious. And then something went wrong. Something always goes wrong. Power went completely out in a tiny station nearly out of everything consumable, including air and ecosystem control like heat, and after about 6 hours of clamping everything down into sheer survival mode, there was nothing to do at all but sit still and just wait to be picked up.

        Of course in my dream I could see the calculating going on in his mind, and knew he knew he'd be long dead before they got back. There was just no way to beat time passing, no tricks to pull out of a sleeve, no magic hat of ideas, just nothing left and no way to contact anyone. Just be still and relax, use as little air as possible and let his body go into hypothermia as slowly as possible.

        I was upset in my dream. I wasn't corporeal, I wasn't even me. I don't know what I was. Just an observer of a fictional character. I felt so frustrated. Usually in dreams, by this point, I either know I'm dreaming (I didn't know this time) or I figure out I can push in and do something (I didn't realize I was 'there' to do anything). I've been lucid dreaming since I was a toddler, so looking back on this is really odd how stuck I felt not realizing I could maneuver as an entity in any way. I only felt frustrated.

        Time passed. I hovered around, in and out of the station, watching him go unconscious, watching the stars, watching the planet rotate. Nothing else happening. I hovered back into his head, and he was nearly gone. I knew all it would take was one transmission to get someone back there, even though they were impossibly far away, because the tech they used allowed that kind of travel, but there was no way I could send a transmission, even if the tech was working, because I didn't know how. At this point in the dream I actually tried fiddling with some switches in the dark. Of course nothing happened. I have no idea if it would've looked like the switches were flipping themselves, I didn't dream of me actually being there.

        I made a decision to go find the people who'd dropped him off and tell them to come get him. That part was easy. All I had to do was slip back through time to when they dropped him off and left and tag it, kind of like tagging a piece of code, and then doing a search later for the tag and the highlight taking you right to it. (Don't ask, I've been dreaming like this for a long time.) So bing, next thing I was hovering around a busy deck full of people and no way to communicate. I told you this dream was long. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to say even just his name (I couldn't, I had no way to vocalize) or get his name onto a screen (I couldn't, I have severe symbol fail in dreams, I can't type or spell or keep numbers straight). I finally got so frustrated that I just pushed into someone's head and screamed ZELENKA, and she dropped the stuff she was holding, and from there was about an hour-long fight to get a single idea through to her to the crew. All I needed to communicate was GO BACK NOW. That was ridiculously difficult. But once that got through, they did go get him, barely in the nick of time. He'd already stopped breathing and was close to brain death, but they did manage to pull a rescue and eventually get him healed to full capacity.

        That dream was obviously about my own brain trying to repair and communicate. I yap all the time about my glitchy brain. I had that dream during probably the blackest part of my existence. During the dream it really did feel like long hours and days were passing, but I don't think I slept more than 4 hours max, more likely 2 or 3. I very clearly remember that dream but still have memory problems around real life during that time frame. I've actually had to draw out a timeline for reference, make a list of dates, and go back through old blogs at least once a month trying to keep my life straight, but I remember that dream in great detail. That was my brain showing me how it was working on its own repair, connecting disrupted synapses, giving me context for what was going on in my real life inside my own head.

        Neat, huh?

        Think about it. My brain cells were able to give me a picture of their existence.



        :edit: one hour later

        O.M.G. "I was upset in my dream. I wasn't corporeal, I wasn't even me. I don't know what I was. Just an observer of a fictional character. I felt so frustrated."

        Guys- that is my brain talking. My consciousness is the fictional character to my brain.

        Just- wow.
        790: You're wasting your energy attempting to force my cooperation.
        I have no sense of self-preservation and I can always be reassembled.
        sigpic

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        • #5
          Working at the Geek Squad, I have had multiple ipad and iphone users ask me about this "critical low storage" problem. they delete their apps, clear the cache, and still the free space continues to get smaller. I discovered after connecting to a pc via USB cable with itunes and performing the sync operation, this issue seams to get fixed. Although the sync operation itself dose not remove any data that I can tell, the unit seams like it can shed info it has been clinging to for ever, after the and waiting a few hours, the free space might begin to increase. Some days later you might see the free space continuing to increase. I have had people come to me weeks later and report that their free space is still increasing, to as much as 4 GB in some cases.

          Oh and I love and miss SGA also

          Hope this helps you or someone.

          myke

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          • #6
            activity terrain in user landscapes

            Also posted on Pinky blog.

            click for more cool wallpapers

            I dreamed last night that you could choose to allow your overall web activity to be incorporated into an exciting new 'site map' of all your presence, kind of like a map, called your landscape. It was a new form of monetizing that everyone could easily use. Say you shopped JCPenney and several other places online, they would become little markers in your activity terrain and if your followers ping over to shopping from your markers, you get coupons and little kickbacks for future purchases. It looked like a real map that you could set up to look like fantasy, western, pirate, etc, and every day your map would look like you traveled some more.


            There are people out there making six figures to sit around tables thinking up stuff like that. And then there's me seeing it all in my head like it already exists somewhere. I wish I could press my head to the screen and file share.
            790: You're wasting your energy attempting to force my cooperation.
            I have no sense of self-preservation and I can always be reassembled.
            sigpic

            Comment


            • #7
              revolutionizing mass entertainment

              Originally posted on Pinky blog.

              Last night I dreamed that code readers revolutionized the home theater industry. You no longer had to stream or buy discs, just get this cool code reader, kind of like they have in offices, and pick an episode or movie from a little stack of plastic sheets. It would read and process into watchable format within 5 minutes and was extremely cheap, making it so easy for every household to simply own and pass around everything that's ever been filmed. I can see this being a huge deal if anything ever were to happen to satellite radio transmission for some reason and anything streaming going dark.

              Was yapping away the other day about how nice it would be if someone would come up with the idea for entertainment brokering. It's insane having all these different companies and packages and having to invest so much money in one show here and another show there. I live in a big tourist area, I see how they put together personalized packages. Or like health care, you can also do that with health and prescription supplement plans. You go into a office and say my life is like this and I need this and this, the person details a plan out to suit your needs, right? Why not do the same with entertainment? You want one show off HBO, another off Hulu or Netflix, a few things off cable or satellite, and something offered through Amazon or BBC or sports, an entertainment broker puts exactly what you want together into a personalized package, and you can adjust the package monthly, like you do a cell phone plan or something. How hard can that possibly be? All you have to do is centralize an outlet through brokers that can cross all the streams pulling stuff for you.
              790: You're wasting your energy attempting to force my cooperation.
              I have no sense of self-preservation and I can always be reassembled.
              sigpic

              Comment


              • #8
                moonlight and stars

                Originally posted on Pinky blog.

                Antibiotic brain after I unfollowed a bunch accounts again this last month, right? I almost kept the steampunk account but decided it was too sexist because no men or machinery, just beautiful women, which I'm not against at all, but it was disappointing me.

                So last night I dreamed I was decked out full blown steampunk, lotta awesome and looking hella cool, and especially my marcasite boots. Yes, you heard me, marcasite. Solid marcasite. Yes, the entire boot. In case you are not familiar with marcasite, the boots would look the same as this stuff. Click to see way more, that is a really conservative start.


                And I was late for a final college exam with a visiting friend in tow (another account I might have unfollowed?), some guy from some country who I couldn't tell was crushing on or using me to step up to the next level somehow, and the final consisted of doing surgery, which was funny because I had told someone at my dad's house to hang on because I would be back after class to do surgery on him after a weird accident that had blown some twisted parts into his gut.

                Anyway, there was running through buildings because parking is never close, and it was raining, and one of the classes along the way was a Stargate class full of awesome stuff (ok, that one I got, pretty sure that dream thing came from @thegatecast wishing me a happy birthday this week). And of course I left my lab tools at home, so I had to use the nearly useless generic equipment scrounged up around class (I really do have lab surgical tools in my real house), but I still pulled off a successful surgery, and then I remember facepalming and having to tell my friend to put his pants back on, after which he valiantly (very publicly awkwardly) proposed and I suggested maybe we get a hamburger and think about it because I was starving.

                And then I woke up.

                So what does marcasite represent? I used to work a jewelry counter, and I've handled and worn a lot of marcasite, really love it.

                Marcasite- Healing Properties, Color, Power & Facts | Jewelexi

                "Choosing to consciously make new experiences rugged looking Marcasite has a multiple personalities. This dark, grey-pyrite helps the wearer to walk through new doorways to philosophical and reflective change. It is also believed to infuse courage in the wearing individual and is referred to as "fool's gold". Known to be a desirable gemstone among people, it is as well acknowledged as pyrite because of its same chemical formula though has different crystal system and inherent qualities.

                ...Made up of iron sulphide, it is an interesting mineral that has been confused with other types of minerals for generations. Known to be a brittle stone it can crumble easily and is lighter than pyrite. Usually yellow in color, this striking stone has a brassy look added to it. With a twinned crystal habit, this unique distinctive gemstone occurs when the surface to form the head of a hen. Mythologically associated with pyrite like properties, it is well known among Chinese, Greeks and Mayans for thousands of years. Having a calming effect, Marcasite attracts wealth and inspire creativity. It frees the wearing individual from the feelings of hopelessness, over-sensitiveness and help to re-calibrate, re-assess, re-design, release, and reincarnation. Being gentle with the wearer's body, it holds on the wearer grounded as well as balanced."


                Sounds about right. I didn't even know that. There's lots more if you want to click over and read it.

                And it was on my FEET. Wonder what that means.

                What does it mean to dream about Shoes?

                "A dream about shoes may symbolize how you are moving forward on your career path or spiritual path in life.

                May represent your understanding of something, since your shoes are under you when you stand."

                There's lots more about whether the shoes fit, where you're wearing them, if you change shoes in a dream, losing or forgetting them, and the type of shoe. For instance, mine were boots.

                "Boots may symbolize taking a firm stand on something; or it may be a pun on ‘«£getting the boot‘«ō or getting fired. ‘«£These Boots are Made for Walking‘«ō also comes to mind."

                So I'm walking around in these magical healing boots doing surgeries. Sure, why not. I'll take it.

                That guy, though. Really not interested in that way, and seriously could not tell if he had an agenda behind all the pizzazz, so I just let him tag along at arm's length, because I did enjoy him. Not exactly the greatest person to arrive late with to a surgery exam though.
                790: You're wasting your energy attempting to force my cooperation.
                I have no sense of self-preservation and I can always be reassembled.
                sigpic

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                • #9
                  the blobs from space dream

                  Originally posted on 10-29-14.

                  I'm only minutes out of a dream where giant bugs from a space infestation took over our entire planet and they used their collective hive mind and ingenious nanorobotics to quickly take over our food supply from raw earth to finished product. It still all basically looked the same, but every single bite of food we were stuck eating was molecularly contorted and embued with giant bug something, and it was mutating all of us into a giant sticky mass of collective thought, literally. I remember picking through a few items in a cafeteria and spitting stuff out, I remember finding a few survivors scrounging for old outdated food in garbage heaps that hadn't yet been incinerated, and I remember an attack we coordinated on one of the giant blobs that was filling up a whole university and ingesting students and faculty into its collective. I remember it oozed around my foot and I could hear other people's thoughts for a brief second before I yanked my foot loose with a big sucky squelching noise, and I lost my shoe to its stickiness. I ran really hard across a lawn to another building and up some stairs, and that's about where I woke up.
                  790: You're wasting your energy attempting to force my cooperation.
                  I have no sense of self-preservation and I can always be reassembled.
                  sigpic

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    tense brothel dream

                    Originally posted on 8-24-16.

                    Caution for triggers. I can't explain dreams like these, but I have looked into remote experiencing during dreams for several years. I never get names and locations, just experiences.

                    Last night I was an aging kitchen and laundry (it felt like) overseer in a large gentleman's Chinese brothel, and I'm not talking like in the movies. This was real grunge behind the scenes stuff, very realistic. I knew the entire building inside and out, I knew all the people who worked there, and even though I wasn't a boss, I was respected because I kept order.

                    But this evening there wasn't order. A recently gone famous pop artist had just walked into the restaurant area with his new very young model bride, and one of the slightly aging performers (background dancer/singer type) in really pretty costuming suddenly threw an absolute fit, screaming how could he, how could he turn to someone else after all the nasty kinds of sex he had made her do with him (during which she evidently must've fallen in love with him), and since I was walking through checking table setting perfection and closest to her, I walked up to where she was nearly now screaming in the pop star's face (everyone's eyes were really big, bad public behavior, bad taste, bad luck all around, no one had ever gunned the place up but didn't mean it wouldn't happen) and put my arm around her waist and then walked between them turning her around. I didn't even look at anyone else, just her like she was the only one in the world and guided her away sobbing, sweetly reminding her that we don't break the rules here, and it's ok if clients do what they want, got her escorted into another area and handed her off, all the while she's having this emotional breakdown and I knew she was ruined now, and they'd either kill her or finish breaking her for some other kind of work. The best I could do was remove her from my floor before I would get in trouble, too, just being in her vicinity.
                    790: You're wasting your energy attempting to force my cooperation.
                    I have no sense of self-preservation and I can always be reassembled.
                    sigpic

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