Subconscious Atypical, Inquisition Mental

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Subconscious Atypical, Inquisition Mental

Post by K » Fri Aug 19, 2011 11:10 am

MY TURN, MY TURN! This . . . This . . . Well, it started as a dream . . . It, uh . . . Just bloody read. Oh, explicit language is in there a bit. Whah.

I can't remember the first part of the dream. I'm not really sure that it occurred within my subconscious; the dream may have started mid-story. Normally, my mind is fast enough to get all the details no matter how quickly my subconscious flashes along, but this could be an exception (particularly given the whole "conscious rise" aspect that you'll see), so I really have no idea. Its details became pretty obvious, though, so it was like watching an animé that started with some meaningless dialogue and had an explanation as to the origins of the characters and situations at the end of the episode.

I do remember one part of it, though, and it was something like this:
<Girl> Mm-hmm. You know, though, that I'll have to go with my brother once we start, right?
<Me> Yeah, I figured.
<Girl> *She nodded.*
<Me> -I knew better than to voice my dissension just yet . . . I still had my tilted half-smile equipped, slightly indicative of some disapproval, but not too apparently so. I returned to nomming my meal, presumably ramen, but perhaps yakisoba.-

So, now that we have that meaningless excerpt, let's get on with the show.

<Time-Skippu>

<Gramps, Girl, Brother, Sara, a Woman whom I presume to be a mother to Girl and Brother, and I were gathered around a . . . table? It was more of a half-counter in the middle of this . . . tent? Our hut was more of a vendor's tent at a local flea market, or . . . Sara was apparently a childhood friend of mine. Her appearance was that of a girl who was in my band, also named Sara (but hers was with an H, I believe; I don't know how I know that this one's wasn't, because I never saw it written, but I just know.). For the record, that real girl and I didn't really conflict, but I can't say that we were friends, either. She was clearly of European descent. I wasn't thinking of this at the time, but it strikes me oddly in retrospect. Perhaps . . . he was "Gramps" via adoption? Actually, these people looked possibly Eurasian, so maybe she was just the result of a lineage western, I speculate. Anyway, we must have been friends, because I acknowledge her feelings and try to protect her later on.>
<Woman> That's great. Oh, you know that, once they start schooling, she'll have to go with her brother, right?
<Me> Yeah, I figured. -My face made a hasty transition from its wide, hungry smile to its standard, cocked half-smile. Of course, this went largely unnoticed; people don't pay attention to me. My disapproval went yet unannounced; I didn't want to make a big deal of it yet, particularly given the fact that I was really in no position to pose a change.-
<Woman> Good. *She smiled and set some food down.*
<Conversation ensues. I didn't really hear the dialogue; my character self did. I am in a solemn, cynical mood, quite typical of myself. After I make some remark or another, the conversation pivots.>
<Gramps> Well, I got one thing to say to that . . . *He backflipped over his . . . chair? It must have been a chair. -and still carried his bowl of noodles (again, probably ramen or yakisoba; I'm thinking yakisoba), which he promptly slurped up in an instant. Ruining the bowl that he had just used, he spiked it into the ground and ran off.*
<Me> What the- Are you shitting me? You're shitting me! You?! This whole ti- I'll be damned! -His dash didn't look very ninja-like to me, but I guess that's how it is when your eyesight is running at ninja speed, too.-
<Sara> *She took off in pursuit.*
<Me> Um, Sara? Sara! -I half-turn to the person on my left. It must have been Brother.- Shouldn't we eat before we go . . .? -I rise and hear an annoying voice from behind (was left-behind me when sitting), which came from another ninja who was eating with another one around the corner.
<Annoyance>Stop worrying about those things!
<Me> . . . Fuck off! -I was obviously more than a little tired of the criticism of every little thing about me. I ran off after Sara.-

<Time-Skippu Beta>

<I came to a halt in a grove with Sara. She walked by me to my left while saying something, likely cursing me for waiting while she lamented the upcoming fate. A villainous ringtone played from my phone, which resembled Vincent's in FFVII: Dirge of Cerberus. I waved my arm in a motion that told Sara to get away.>
<Me> Get back, and stay out of the way! -I turned around to prepare for the coming boss as Sara bolted and ducked. I heard a monstrous cry that vaguely resembled that of the Weapons from FFVII, but was still distinct in itself.-

At this point, my conscious mind was coming to, but my subconscious wasn't stopping. My conscious mind jested with itself, picturing Ultimate Weapon from FFVII descending into the grove. That thing has no consistency in size. However, that wasn't an actual part of the dream; that was just a conscious fill-in as a joke.

<Time-Skippu Gamma! Yeah, I'm ticked that I didn't get to watch the fight scene, too.>

<Gramps and I were alone. I caught him. My conscious mind had to fill in the blanks for the dialogue that my subconscious wasn't expressing clearly enough.>
<Me> Is there no alternative?
<Gramps assured me that there isn't. I don't think that he said anything; he probably just smiled.>
<Me> Then . . . I just won't become Grandmaster. You're just too cool to lose, Gramps! -Insert dorky, corny smile here. It was the kind of smile that I'd expect from Komo in the same situation.-
<Gramps smiled at me. I think that he had some tears. I don't know whether his smile was in pride, pity, joy, relief, some combination, or what. I would suspect that it was a, 'Aww, that's a sweet sentiment, but you know that you have to do it anyway . . .' smile. I didn't yet know that I had no choice . . . quite literally.>

That last part played a couple times so that my conscious mind could confirm the dialogue, perhaps approving it. This next part played several times in slightly different ways as my conscious mind questioned what had happened and how, as well as again confirming/approving the dialogue. Although the positioning of our contact changed a few times to see what made sense, nothing really changed; my subconscious was showing me this story insistently.

<My hands and arms grew knives, which appeared to be made from muscle, into Gramps. I had accidentally killed him.>
<Gramps> Ghk!
<Me> Wh-what?! Gramps?! No! Wha- How?! WHY?!
<My thoughts raced. What sorcery was this?! Did Gramps do this with some jutsu? Did someone else who was watching? If I was that good of a ninja, I don't see how some other could be watching, but perhaps I was just the best in this village. As I held him and his eyes widened in pain and surprise, it didn't seem like he had done this himself. I think that he heard my surprise upon the sinking of the knives, so I'm pretty sure that he knew that I hadn't done this on purpose; he knew that I wasn't a deceitful bastage. Thoughts flashed, I looked around, and I called out. Perhaps if someone was spying, having a friend around would give us both a better chance of finding the asshat and/or staying alive. Of course, that wasn't my only motivation for calling her.>

This is another part that played a couple times, but my mind settled after just a couple checks.

<Me> Sara! Don't come any closer!
<Sara> What? Why?! *It's MY Gramps, she thinks.*
<Me> -I understand her thoughts and feelings on the matter.- Do you have a blindfold? You must give me a chance to explain before you see this! -I say this as I use a jutsu to envelop Gramps and myself in a sort of rounded coffin of leaves while I set him down. The knives have retracted, by now. As I stand, I go right through the leaves, which reform around me into said "rounded coffin" arrangement.-

I think that she had a blindfold and, out of respect for her friend, played along. She fled upon seeing him, I'm sure. You guessed it:
<Time-Skippu Delta>

<I arrive back at the village, carrying the old corpse.>
<Me> I, I- . . .
<Annoyance> Save it! Sara told us all about you!
<Me> Hrm . . .?

The dialogue was hard to make out, again, so my conscious mind figured it out. It was something like,
<Annoyance/Other Ninja of the Village> Sara told us how you couldn't beat the Grandmaster, so you hired someone else to do it! You're no grandmaster of us!
<Me> WHAT?! -This . . . was shit. Not only did I bear this burden, but I wasn't getting the power to go with it? I wouldn't get the chance to end this, the position to tear down some unjust traditions, the rule to do what must be done? My word was going to pot, so there would be no hunt to see if someone else had interfered? People would hate me even more? Oh, Hell, no. The gossiping and bantering of the other ninja was about to cease.- SILENCE! His death is on my hands! By his own rule, that makes me Grandmaster! You will listen to me . . . or I will kill any who stand in my way.

I think that the ninja of irritation started to move in opposition, but knew that I was a badass. Therefore, everyone lent me an ear, for once. I know that I used my reign to end this bullshit tradition of 'kill Grandmaster, become Grandmaster,' but I don't know what else happened afterward. At that point . . . my conscious mind was acting independently. The "dream" had stopped, and I was just daydreaming. There was no point in me developing the story by conscious means any further, so I ended it abruptly. Will there be another episode?

So, there you have it. That was last night/this morning (same thing to a nocturnal person who is temporarily adjusting to be diurnal). If you're wondering what may have inspired it, here's some background:
I'm straightedge. There's no drug/alcohol influence.
I had just read the first 10 chapters of Exodus. There isn't really a single element in common, unless you intend to make the 'rising against authority figures' stretch, and even that is a rather farcical stretch.
The game that I had recently been playing . . . was Kirby Air Ride. Yeah, that's what I thought.
I have recently been playing FFVII and FFVII: DoC, so I can see the phone coming from Vincent's influence, and I can sorta' see how the cry of the boss monster (whom, by the way, was probably a monster form of the Grandmaster) was somewhat similar to that of the Weapons. That's reasonable enough . . .
Maybe you're pointing to FFVII and saying, "Duh! Look at Wutai!" Well, the Wutai Pagoda have very little in common with my Grandmaster Gramps; they didn't rule the people so much, didn't require death to pass their torches on, didn't need to be chased and found, fought in a four-tiered structure in a four-tiered battle system, held more "challenging" dialogue, and didn't reveal their positions seemingly at random. There are a couple of common elements in the whole "secret position" aspect of Godo at the top of the Wutai Pagoda as well as Grandmaster Gramps (Sara was obviously broken up because she never knew that her Gramps was actually the great grandmaster, and she knew that his fate was to be killed by me. He hadn't revealed himself to anyone before he just jumped up and took off.) and the monster form bits, but those have been common ninja themes for ages. I also haven't even visited Wutai in FFVII for a while; I've been grinding for AP, stat maxing, getting kills with Vincent, and messing around for a while before switching over to KAR. Granted, this means little to someone with eidetic memory, but if you're looking for recent influences, you're SOL on Wutai.
If you're looking for influences throughout all my life, you're also SOL. I have had nothing of traditional Eastern elements. I know about some. Oh, that's right, I played Way of the Samurai 2, which counts for a lot of nothing. If you've played it, you'll know that it has no relevance here whatsoever. I'm an otaku, but I'm not really heavily into traditional Japanese stuff or traditional Chinese stuff. Oh, that reminds me that I've also seen this one movie about some Chinese history, which also has pretty much nothing in common with this. I don't even like Naruto; I saw a couple episodes, didn't like them, since those two were about 95% sub-par dialogue and 5% action that could have been planned better, and never got the chance to watch more and give it enough of a chance to really like or dislike it. There's really no genuine source for this.

So, anyone wanna' take a stab at where this came from/why? How fitting is it that the dream interpreter has the most puzzling dream sequence?
(Always select all and copy before you post something! On DA, I just got an "Internet Explorer can not display the webpage" page, but I saved my writing with a simple CTRL + A, CTRL + C!)

EDIT: By the way, I did pose some interpretation to this, but all that it really represents are personality traits of mine that are so obvious that even a psychiatrist could tell you (Ha!), along with some that are slightly less obvious, but still quite blatant. I get no main point from it and nothing with any respectable depth. I am inclined to believe that it therefore has no such depth, but, hey, I'm not the only person who can interpret dreams. By the way, I have had dreams before that started in my subconscious, but my conscious mind was so strong that it started taking over before it was awake enough to see what it was doing, if you follow. Yeah, that was clear as mud; sorry. xD Ahem . . . Anyway, take a stab at it. This should be fun.

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Post by K » Sun Feb 03, 2013 10:31 am

Got another one! Man, I have the COOLEST dreams! This one's shorter and simpler. Switch to the 0mega style to help get in the mood.

Daniel and I stepped off the hover skiff or whatever it was. I had a BB gun. Yeah, no, really. I assume that his gun(s) shot BBs, too. Mine looked like an ordinary BB rifle. Well, uh, I guess that it was a funny sort of pump-action; to pump it, I'd pull the back of the wooden pump part down, tilting it (since the front part was still attached), and this caused what looked like a magazine of an assault rifle to slide back along it before I pushed the pump back up so that the gun looked normal again. Yeah, a visual aid would be nice, but I can't draw.

As we had apparently already coordinated, I moved right while Daniel charged forward along the left side of the arena for a couple block lineups (I'll describe those shortly.), then moved right. I saw his gun briefly. It looked sorta' like the cannons that are used by android Shadows in multiplayer of Shadow the Hedgehog, but with a large bandolier hanging from it. Actually, the one big barrel that you'll see in this pic was probably segregated into multiple smaller barrels. I seem to recall seeing two short, silver extensions, one just above the other, that were probably the barrels.

Image

I figured out the arena layout. Daniel and I started in the lower-left corner. From the upper-left corner, there was a lineup of enemy gunmen, I wanna' say 8-10 of them. Over at the right (possibly more centered; I don't know if the arena extended further right than we needed to go, because I was facing forward pretty much the entire time) was some sort of small building with stairways leading up into it. We evidently needed to get in there for some reason, but that apparently wasn't the sole objective. I can't find a picture, but play Starfox Assault (Fun game. If you haven't played it before, go get it, or come over to my house and play it here.), go to the city of Corneria, and look at any one of the two-story buildings with a stairway. Mentally paint it black, turn the roof into more building (as opposed to the energy shield roofs that some buildings have in Corneria), and there you go. Something like that. Anyway, there was apparently space behind (i.e. the direction that we came from, and presumably in front of, i.e. the direction of the firing squad) the building, 'cause my position was behind it at one point.
Scattered across the arena were blocks in various formations. As in, there would be a lineup of them in a row with a random amount of them stacked up to a second level. The blocks were presumably cubical, and they were just high enough to cover me when ducking and sitting. It's not really fair to call the formations "scattered;" they were arranged in these lineups in a somewhat planned manner, each lineup having about two blocks of distance between them, enough to comfortably move around.

Aside from the little firing squad at the back, there were enemy combatants running around (presumably also with BB guns) in the arena with us. The apparent plan was for me to cover Daniel while he got to the building, then I would move along and kill everyone else that I could while he was in there.

I would peep up over whatever block I was hiding behind, spot a nearby enemy, point my gun over the top of the block, and put a BB in the head. This was all very close combat; BBs aren't effective at a distance. Sometimes, someone would get around to be in the same horizontal pathway as me, but I'd turn and put a BB in their face quickly enough. We navigated right, then I saw a blackened figure (The building wasn't exactly well-lit, and I was outside it. This is the point at which I was behind the building, still just a short distance right of where we started.) that must have been Daniel charge up a stairway, killing a bunch of baddies to all sides, then get in a sort of small, balcony-like area. I assumed that he was there to press a switch and keep running or something, but he must have stayed there, using it as a good defensive/sniping position. Not a bad idea, really, and it seemed to work. I moved back to the left a bit and went forward, advancing row-by-row while sneaking BBs into faces as I stated earlier.

Finally, I was one row from the firing squad. The guy on the far left (upper-left corner of the arena, from our perspective) and I were trading shots, but neither could hit. Don't get me wrong; the blocks were good cover, but I honestly thought that they'd all be shooting at me, and one of them would have to get a lucky shot, 'cause I couldn't react to all their movements. I still don't know how I was missing, 'cause it's the same range that I had been working with the whole time, and I hadn't missed before. Out of frustration and experimentation, I advanced still further. Sitting with my back against the wall of blocks, I kept shooting at that far-left guy, since he was the only one who was shooting back. I thought that I was screwed; I was gonna' get as miraculously evasive as I could to put out as many bullets as possible before I went down, but I was screwed, I thought. Each time that he fired at me, I'd go all psychic on his ass and make just the correct movement to my left or right to avoid the shot, so I was surprisingly lasting, but I wasn't hitting him, either! This is practically point-blank range!

He sighed, lowered his gun (me still shooting and pumping!), and said, "Sir, you may want to see this." He walked over to his left, my right, across the inactive firing squad. I kept firing as he walked. About four thin guys over, pretty much right in front of me, but more in line with my right arm, was their leader, I guess, whom was chatting inaudibly with another dudebro. The guy that was just REFUSING to get hit tapped the leader's shoulder and pointed at me.

"Why can't I hit you . . .?" I asked in desperation, finally letting my gun rest a bit.
The leader answered, "It doesn't matter; look!" and pointed to the box that was behind me and to my right. I leered at it with the most perplexed look about me, seeing a couple indents in it, which looked like they had come from round shots, probably BBs. There was an insignificant . . . crease, I guess, that he probably had just drawn under them when he pointed, and that was it. I looked back at him.
"Wha-?"
"You did it! You won! Thank you!"
He eccentrically shook my shoulders, still leaning far over his counter that segregated me from the firing squad, with a huge grin on him. He crossed his hands to shake both of mine, somehow robbing them from my gun.
"Th-thank- . . .?"

I woke up.

MAN, that was somethin'! Putting aside the obvious lack of information as to why the whole thing was occurring in the first place, I had to lie there and ask myself questions.
When he pointed at the dots, was he seeing something, perhaps a one-sided interface, that I wasn't?
Maybe those dots represented Daniel and me. Him pointing at them would be to signify the fact that we were the only mobile units left, him up in his perch and me up front. The dots were positioned one up and left from the other, which, from the squad's perspective, would seem to match up with Daniel's and my locations: The upper-left one would be Daniel, and the other me. This is because Daniel's position in the building was to my right and behind me, since I had moved all the way forward.
Why was he happy that we had won? Was he actually on our side, but had to follow higher orders by directing his guys to go out against us, or was there something beyond that?
Unless a lot of silencers were involved, it would have been a lot noisier if regular ammo was being fired. Why were we all firing BBs? It sure didn't seem like a casual paintball game! Daniel and I were planting BBs into brains; we were killing them on a kill-or-be-killed basis! I think that trying to put this match strictly into a "serious" or "casual" category is impossible. It's clearly something in between or both.

The only explanation that I can think of is as follows: We were made into video game characters. We shot BBs because old, pixelated shots in old, 8-bit games were small and round. The enemy squad didn't care to fire back (except that I guess the one guy may have just been shooting at me out of frustration or something) because we had already achieved a game over, so no more damage could be dealt. I couldn't damage them because they were more like environmental hazards, as opposed to the mobile foes being the objective targets, or maybe I couldn't damage them for the same reason that they couldn't damage me: The game had ended. Perhaps this is why the enemy leader celebrated. With the game over, we can all power down. If Daniel and I were to lose, we're the protagonists, so we'd start all over and keep playing until we won. In effect, our victory freed us all from a time loop.

So, apparently, I'm such a hardcore gamer that my dream self is sometimes abducted to feature as a character in others' games. Cool story, bro.

I may actually try to map out this stuff on paper, then scan it and upload it. That'd be cool, if I could.

. . . Someone, try to make sense of these, please. ^^;
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Post by K » Wed May 14, 2014 12:15 pm

Fire wasps. Fire . . . wasps!
Clearly, one or the other is not dangerous enough. Oh, no. I had to dream of both combined. Yay, me.

I was wandering around in the middle of a dark night outside some building that I assume to be a school. The structure resembled Silver Stage Middle School, from the side that I saw. I happened onto some kids in yellow beekeeping suits. One of them wielded what looked like a pickaxe, though I admit that I hardly glanced at the tool because dream-me must have already understood what was going on. They were in a man-made trench, presumably having been made in an earlier trip and being expanded even at the time, and they were working while surrounded by bees about the size of my palm. I can't tell you whether they were mining, gathering honey, digging the trench deeper, or "yes," because it could be that these were subterranean bees. Hey, it's my dream, man.
A couple bees got riled up by my entrance to the scene, but I nonchalantly swatted them away. For the record, in real life, most bees are not the size of my palm, but this was apparently normal to dream-me, because I conversed with the kids a tad, then took a break, lying down right outside their trench. I think that there was a tarp that was specifically for taking breaks on (and perhaps closing up the trench when finished, y'know?), but it could have just been that I didn't mind getting some dirt in my hair.
One figure walked up to me and handed me a popsicle, evidently passing them out to everyone as a regulated snack and just being nice enough to include this random passerby, before taking more down into the trench. It was yellow and clearly the same kind of pineapple popsicle that I have recently eaten in real life from my mom's house. I thank the person, and her voice reveals itself to be female as a small conversation transpires. I forget exactly what it was, but it was something like,
"Hey, do you want a hand, down there?"
"Well, you can't help if you don't have equipment and an assignment."
"Ah, fair point. Thanks for the popsicle, anyway."

I was looking at the sky and saw a burning orb burst into a ton of white pieces, which shot out like arrows in all directions. Wondering whether it was a meteor, a satellite, or both, I asked,
"Whoa! W-what was- Was that- What-?"
Well, that's sorta' asking a question, right? I could hear some speech from the trench in variants of,
"Whooooooa,"
"Oh, shit!"
"Beautiful!"
and
"Oh, it's just a-"
Sounds were too compromised to make out a full sentence. While an impressive sight, this was still a pretty normal thing, here. I looked at the city in the distance. (Pro tip: There is no visible city in the distance from Silver Stage Middle School . . . or, you know, anywhere in Silver Springs. We're surrounded by hills.)
The city was on fire from the burning shards (which, by the way, looked like they were fluttering as they fell, as though they were pieces of a torn-up, red sheet of paper) of whatever just exploded. No, wait; there were fire shards above the city? No, closer to us than the city. Closer and growing. I was trying to eke out something useful from the kids' reactions as my glance alternated between down at them and the approaching fire loops. Yes, they were a swirling mess of fire trails, now, no longer fluttering shards.
My vision zoomed in. I may have had some equipment on, as indicated by the fact that the whole dream was as though I had one eye open, but it could have just been a dream-camera zoom, I guess. The objects that I was witnessing were much like the large bees, but all red.
Let me run you by that again. These were red, burning bugs of death.
I glanced down at the trench, then up to see another object in the sky burst into fire shards that scattered a bit, then fluttered down in an organized fashion, like homing missiles of paper, toward the oncoming swarm. Yeah, they were getting reinforcements, which is exactly what you want to see when you're about to defend yourself from burning death bugs.

I woke up.

This is my third entry and shortest so far of my awesome dream log. Let's find out what the most popular response is!
1) That's not so bad . . .
2) Your one "awesome dream" has sparked a hundred nightmares.
3) Screw you, too, Caleb.
4) You need to go die in a hole for this.
5) AAAAAAH! AAAAAH! AAAAAAAAAAH!
6) You were gonna' tell the kids of what you saw, then hide in the building with or without them, right? Do you think that their suits were fireproof? Give me some closure, man!
7) I like chickens, Eddy.

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Post by CH » Fri May 16, 2014 6:52 am

K wrote:Fire wasps. Fire . . . wasps!
Clearly, one or the other is not dangerous enough. Oh, no. I had to dream of both combined. Yay, me.

I was wandering around in the middle of a dark night outside some building that I assume to be a school. The structure resembled Silver Stage Middle School, from the side that I saw. I happened onto some kids in yellow beekeeping suits. One of them wielded what looked like a pickaxe, though I admit that I hardly glanced at the tool because dream-me must have already understood what was going on. They were in a man-made trench, presumably having been made in an earlier trip and being expanded even at the time, and they were working while surrounded by bees about the size of my palm. I can't tell you whether they were mining, gathering honey, digging the trench deeper, or "yes," because it could be that these were subterranean bees. Hey, it's my dream, man.
A couple bees got riled up by my entrance to the scene, but I nonchalantly swatted them away. For the record, in real life, most bees are not the size of my palm, but this was apparently normal to dream-me, because I conversed with the kids a tad, then took a break, lying down right outside their trench. I think that there was a tarp that was specifically for taking breaks on (and perhaps closing up the trench when finished, y'know?), but it could have just been that I didn't mind getting some dirt in my hair.
One figure walked up to me and handed me a popsicle, evidently passing them out to everyone as a regulated snack and just being nice enough to include this random passerby, before taking more down into the trench. It was yellow and clearly the same kind of pineapple popsicle that I have recently eaten in real life from my mom's house. I thank the person, and her voice reveals itself to be female as a small conversation transpires. I forget exactly what it was, but it was something like,
"Hey, do you want a hand, down there?"
"Well, you can't help if you don't have equipment and an assignment."
"Ah, fair point. Thanks for the popsicle, anyway."

I was looking at the sky and saw a burning orb burst into a ton of white pieces, which shot out like arrows in all directions. Wondering whether it was a meteor, a satellite, or both, I asked,
"Whoa! W-what was- Was that- What-?"
Well, that's sorta' asking a question, right? I could hear some speech from the trench in variants of,
"Whooooooa,"
"Oh, shit!"
"Beautiful!"
and
"Oh, it's just a-"
Sounds were too compromised to make out a full sentence. While an impressive sight, this was still a pretty normal thing, here. I looked at the city in the distance. (Pro tip: There is no visible city in the distance from Silver Stage Middle School . . . or, you know, anywhere in Silver Springs. We're surrounded by hills.)
The city was on fire from the burning shards (which, by the way, looked like they were fluttering as they fell, as though they were pieces of a torn-up, red sheet of paper) of whatever just exploded. No, wait; there were fire shards above the city? No, closer to us than the city. Closer and growing. I was trying to eke out something useful from the kids' reactions as my glance alternated between down at them and the approaching fire loops. Yes, they were a swirling mess of fire trails, now, no longer fluttering shards.
My vision zoomed in. I may have had some equipment on, as indicated by the fact that the whole dream was as though I had one eye open, but it could have just been a dream-camera zoom, I guess. The objects that I was witnessing were much like the large bees, but all red.
Let me run you by that again. These were red, burning bugs of death.
I glanced down at the trench, then up to see another object in the sky burst into fire shards that scattered a bit, then fluttered down in an organized fashion, like homing missiles of paper, toward the oncoming swarm. Yeah, they were getting reinforcements, which is exactly what you want to see when you're about to defend yourself from burning death bugs.

I woke up.

This is my third entry and shortest so far of my awesome dream log. Let's find out what the most popular response is!
1) That's not so bad . . .
2) Your one "awesome dream" has sparked a hundred nightmares.
3) Screw you, too, Caleb.
4) You need to go die in a hole for this.
5) AAAAAAH! AAAAAH! AAAAAAAAAAH!
6) You were gonna' tell the kids of what you saw, then hide in the building with or without them, right? Do you think that their suits were fireproof? Give me some closure, man!
7) I like chickens, Eddy.
Answers::
  • 2) Your one "awesome dream" has sparked a hundred nightmares.
  • 3) Screw you, too, Caleb.
  • 6) You were gonna' tell the kids of what you saw, then hide in the building with or without them, right? Do you think that their suits were fireproof? Give me some closure, man!
Seriously though, you're decidedly evil. That dream was creepy, and only you would find bees the size of your palm to be normal! On a psychological note, is anything bothering you that you would like to discuss? I mean, a dream like this usually implies a subconscious stressor needing to reach the conscious to be dealt with. Seriously though, closure would be awesome on this one.

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K
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Post by K » Fri May 16, 2014 3:28 pm

Hehe. Naw, not really. Yeah, I'll be sure to write anything down if my subconscious picks up from where it left off. Pro tip: It doesn't. xD
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