Dreams


Reality-bending people trapped us in space-altering ring of stores/kiosk and debauchery .. they were kind of evil. They took advantage of us. They tormented us (not physically) by trapping us there.

But then I got out and realized that was still better than real-reality, and went back.

Nighttime came… They adjusted the full moon to the angle they wanted, since reality was theirs to bend.

Party time was to be had now.

We stayed.

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

These damn deadly bugs infesting everywhere. Society was in shambles. There was some supernatural zombieism/monsterism going on too.

At one point we were in the street, with screaming decayed monster-face people coming at us. They didn’t run, but they lunged. It was hard to get through the crowd.

My parents replaced their treehouse with another treehouse, and there was no way to get up to it anymore. I climbed a brick wall where I could barely get my fingers in between the bricks to grip. I could have fallen to my death. Meanwhile, Carolyn was trying to climb the front, which was actually much eaiser. When I got to the top, my parents came out, and I think I complained about the pointlessness of building a treehouse no one can easily get to.

Then we went inside and watched someone demonstrate how to kill the deadly bugs from this global bug infestation. The were worse than zombies because they multiplied. He had a tray on the floor where he was cultivating a bunch of these baby bugs, to demonstrate how to best kill them. They started hatching, and would leave the vat and try to run away really quick. It was a challenge to smash them whack-a-mole style.

But then we learned something disturbing. One of the ones he smashed had a smaller, younger baby bug pop out of it. Alive. When these bugs were born, they were actually born pregnant, with their offspring already viable. Simply squashing one was no guarantee of anything. You had to make sure the bugs inside it were all individuall squashed as well.

These bugs, apparently, were never eggs. The invasion was going to go worse than we thought.

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

Dream where there were zombies, and we were in a treehouse, then a mall trying to survive.
The treehouse worked out for a long time.

It depended on the day – some days there’d be a lot of zombies out, other days there’d just be bug-zombies, and some days there’d be some people and no zombies.

Stores were still open at the mall sometimes — on the better days — but there’d generally be deaths (either human or zombie) happening quite often.

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

Dreamed I listened to Sean E’s radio show and he played some awesome punk band.

I immediately tuned out, listened to more of it on Pandora, really really liked it, and then immediately went to bittorrent and downloaded their complete discography.

I listened to it and really loved this punk band.

Then the next day at work (still in my dream), I told Sean about it.

This dream was a bit odd because this dream was on the same night as his radio show in real life, and he’s my co-worker in real life, and I really did tell him about the dream in real life afterward… So this practically could have really happened.

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

I dreamt me & Carolyn were living in my parents’ basement (12325 house)… I had been gone a few days, but was back, and I was doing computer stuff on my TV (the 36″ CRT huge TV I had from 1977 until 2003 or so).

That was when I noticed, “Hey, this TV out isn’t as crisp as it could be”, and realized that I was doing TV-out on my CRT, and not my LCD HDTV, which I previously had sitting on top of the big, oak, 36″ CRT. Someone had stolen my $2300 TV! I was very distraught and distrustful.

I had had a party there sometime very recently, so immediately my suspicion was on those party guests that always show up that one does not really know. Maybe they saw it, liked it, didn’t really know me, waited for me to be out of town, and then took it? It’s the only thing of real value that I keep in my house anyway; used desktop computers aren’t worth much anymore (people want laptops).

I was debating the logistics of filing a police report, since apparently they would make you pay $100 to do the paperwork for filing a larceny report and proving you owned it to have it be stolen in the first place.

Asshole pigs! You’re already paid by my taxes! Angry dream.

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

Dreamt Chablis & us did 2C-B in a mall store that was closed, in a mall that was closed.

After being up all night tripping, the mall security came, and we had to run out of there in a rush.

Don’t remember many details, but it was a mentally intense dream.

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

Dreamt Sean E gave me PCP.

We were hanging out, and he had a metal tin, told me it was PCP, and I just put a VERY small amount on my finger and snorted it.

Is PCP even something that’s snorted? No clue.

So it was kinda weird.

I barely felt it in the dream, but I definitely felt something different than I’d ever felt. Weird shit!

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

Crazy party 2 houses down from our house… But we lived on other side of street, in place of the school. This really should have clued me in that this was a dream!

Carolyn & I were exploring – We saw a 2-storey concrete stairwell behind a house, and were taking pictures.

We were tresspassing a bit — going into the stairwell of this house. I’d be freaking out if someone did that to me, but my attitude is most people wouldn’t react as badly as I would, so it’s okay. Plus it was a basement adjacent to a busy corner, so we were less likely to bother them more than the traffic and such already out there. The door to the basement was maybe 10 lateral feet away from the sidewalk — 3X as close as ours would be.

Music was playing, but I just assumed it was my music from my house — even though I was 2 houses away, and it’s pretty much impossible (in real life) to make my music hearable from other houses without creating excruciating pain at the origin.

But then we noticed the music playing was KMFDM and, while it was a song in our changer.m3u playlist, it was not the playlist we were playing in the dream. (Possible explanation: In dreamland, I knew we were listening to a mostly-Primus playlist in preparation for the upcoming Primus concert we’re seeing in real life. But in dreamland, I probably had forgotten that there’s ONE KMFDM song in our real-life playlist — along with the MANY Primus songs — so that created the dreamland confusion.)

Anyway, realizing that this song was not in our playlist (even though it probably was their Occupy Wall Street song playing on our bedroom stereo in real life), we realized this meant the music was coming from the house. Then carolyn realized the basement door was cracked open slightly. She started to walk towards it, then stick her hand in it to open it.

“No, don’t go in there!” … I realize it’s a bad idea to just walk into peoples’ houses, even if it seems like a party is going on.

But Carolyn goes in anyway. Okay. It’s a party. I better follow her a) for her own safety, and b) because I like parties.

The party-goers were a bit off-put by us just walking in, as we were older and a bit out of place from the prevailing crowd — but not taolly out of place. They were kinda gothy and we’re kinda don’t-care-y, and the two mesh together alright. Ultimately they didn’t care too much because no one was 100% sure that we were crashing the party anyway.

Carolyn needed peed, and went to the bathroom right there (abandoning me to deal with the party crowd alone *right away*!), but it turns out the bathroom’s door was glass, some creepy guy immediately started to stand at the door and watch her pee. But that’s not enough to make us leave a party. We accept creepiness better than most. It doesn’t totally roll off of us, but whatevs.

Around then I noticed all the rampant drug use at this party. People smoking pot (both real AND synthetic), people doing meth, even someone doing heroin. And of course plenty of alcohol. We were not put off.

I mingled, and then later found Carolyn kinda cornered in a bedroom behind another creepy guy who seemed to be all over her, almost boxing her in so she couldn’t leave, so I rescued her.

We had a good time, but it was time to go, as dawn was appraching, and it was a “school” (work) night.

While leaving, I saw a hot black chick with thin-build/slightly-too-thin-ass and slightly-too-thin legs dancing on a chair facing away.

Also, at some point during the mingling, it turned out we knew a roommate who had lived there, but had moved out, so we knew that meant we had an in with this crowd via the ex-roommate. So hopefully we’d be able to have some more parties to go to in the future.

On the way back, I walked through Woodbridge High School, because I decided that was a straighter path to my house. Which makes NO sense, because my house was only 2 houses away, and walking all the way through a high school is way farther than walking 2 houses. Why don’t I realize these are dreams?

One of the younger party girls who also went directly from party to school, but then gave me shit about it because I was too old to be there, so I gave her shit back. Fucking young agists. I wish I’d hung out with some more older people when I was young. Oh well. Me & the bitch split paths at a hall intersection, and I continued on until I went home.

For some reason, I wasn’t walking home with Carolyn, even though I had rescued her and we left together.

Maybe it morphed into a different dream at the point of me walking…

Weird stuff. Fun party. No hangover because it wasn’t real!

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

Hann3rs emailed me. It was a jokey email, talking along the lines of, “guess who managed to injure himself masturbating while the ambulance is already coming because he already injured himself masturbating?”

Then AE & Meagan were coming over. They saw a movie but none of us could remember the name.

Then we watched some TV on my TV. It was really fucked up. There was Teddy Roosevelt within Teddy Rosevelt. Like, he was in his own beard. This dream is really hard to explain.

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)


I lived with my parents at my aunt Marcia & Duke’s house. This happened for one month in real life right before 3rd grade, when my parents had to sell their 2nd house one month before they could move into their 3rd house. I was, however, my current age, and quite annoyed at living with them.

We were watching South Park, and there was an episode with a giant destructive monster, and every time it would destroy something, a joke display on South Park would score another point, as if it was a videogame. It was part of the humor of the episode. I was playing it with my computer of course, and I wanted to show them how if you went into the properties for the video player, the joke-score would be listed as an attribute along with resolution, length, video codec, and all the other video attributes. Someone had actually tagged each point that was scored in the episode content with a timed-tag that would increment a counter that would be displayed in the actual episode tags.

I basically went into file->properties, then clicked over to the next tab, then there were 3 or so attributes, and if I clicked on one, the score would appear in the right column, matching the South Park episode’s current score.

I wanted to show them this, but they wouldn’t pay attention. When it came up all easily, my parents were immediately talking to each other and not paying attention. The display timed out. I bitched and moaned at them about how lame it was that they couldn’t pay attention for 5 seconds… Especially Mom, who I thought wouldn’t understand it as much without seeing it, because she’s somewhat technically challenged in real life.

So anyway, they finally agreed to give me their undivided attention, and of course THAT time, it took me forever to find the attribute. It wouldn’t come up as easily. Something had changed in the program, and I had to click through and go through 100+ attributes to find it. It was a one-shot thing. A bug in the video player software that made it 20X harder to find a user-tagged attribute if you had already open and closed the attributes list once during the episode. And I didn’t want to close and restart the video player again (as I had recently done in real life 30+ times in order to re-optimize my Media Player Classic video playback after trying to tweak my video player into handling SBS 3-D anaglyph video).

So finally I stormed off and left in anger, not even finishing act 3 of the South Park episode. “Fuck those guys!” … I go back to my downstairs room — complete with the bunk bed I used to have in MY downstairs room in their 3rd house (which we weren’t in — we were in Aunt Marcia & Duke’s house)…

And there’s a DEAD BODY in the room!

Now at the time, I had decided to masturbate, and I really didn’t want to call 911 to report the dead body, because I knew they would totally encroach on my jerkoff time, being in my room, snooping around for evidence, generally not giving me any jerkoff privacy (Hmm–no Carolyn in this dream!). So I started, but then I started to get paranoid that if a masturbatory-length’s worth of time passed, the police would begin to grow suspoicious that my delay in reporting the dead body implied my complicity in a murder I did not actually commit.

So finally, I decided to call 911. But the phone at their house was not working for 911 called! 0 for operator wouldn’t work either! It was some stupid VOIP (voice over IP) phone that had stupid problems. Maybe someone was downloading torrents, sucking up all the bandwidth? But no, I believe the situation was that other numbers would work, but not 911 or 0. I had tried to look up some non-emergency or other numbers in a phone book, but I still had no luck. What the hell is wrong with this phone?

Finally — still in my underwear for some reason — I go to houses across the street asking if I can use the phone. People are hesitant to let a random crazed 38-year-old man in his underwear in to call 911. It just doesn’t sound like something people want to do.

Eventually, someone finally let me call the cops, who came.

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

We were in college again. We’d gone back to Viginia Tech. We had another basement-floor apartment, only this time it was a 2-storey building so there was somebody above us. Didn’t matter. I still played music a lot, and they didn’t seem to mind.

This apartment was a lot (2X?) bigger than our old one we had in real life while at college. It had a deck in back and everything. Quite large for a college apartment. We had a decent-sized bed in a bedroom bigger than our real-life bedroom. We had discussed how to arrange the furniture, and I said that we should just wait until we’ve lived in the apartment a month or two, to have a more organic sense of what we want where.

My Computer Science classes used one of the same books I had from my bachelor’s degree. I had only bought one book, actually. I’d also mostly done my work remotely. We’d been in town for over a week and I hadn’t even seen the campus yet. I had some paperwork so I finally went to it. Hot chicks everywhere. I had forgotten about the abundance of hotness in college. We did some paperwork. It also felt like paperwork for the new job I’m about to start in real life.

We were hanging out, and some friends breezed through. More specifically, ex-friends (people who hang out with enemies) and enemies (people who brought violence into my house and/or harassed me for years until I had no choice but to stop being friends with them). I was in the bathroom or on the computer or something, so I hadn’t noticed. Carolyn had gone out to bum a cigarette, and let them walk through the house, and hang out on the deck.

I felt very alienated and betrayed that Carolyn would undermine my (*and* her) decision to not associate with these people anymore, but I didn’t want to directly enter into a conflict with a mob of people outnumbernig me. (Been there, done that in real life, then took flak later for defending myself from a mob.)

So I signaled her in, and eventually she came in, and I kinda chewed her out for the whole situation. I think this actually woke me up a la nightmare.

Also, at some point before I woke up in real life, our friend Susan had invited us to some party that we went to, and we did that. I can’t remember too many detaials of the party, except that there was a room, a hallway, some people sitting on the floor, and it was mostly girls.

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

Firstly – I went to bed a bit drunk in real life, and my dream consisted me of puking everywhere at some dude’s place. On the floor, on my clothes, in a bucket, carrying the bucket around, sloshing its contents over his soloflex, laying on the floor… And punching Carolyn in the face. I think I may have peed myself too.

Eventually I woke up in real life and was relieved that there was no puke or pee, although I was a bit dehydrated from drinking, my stomach wasn’t exactly comfortable, and I really needed to pee very badly.

The second dream actually seemed to incorporate the first dream at some point in it, but I can’t quite piece it together.

Somehow I met a dude who had a really weird name, like Marimex or Atropos or something equally odd.

He did not have a job, but lived in this huuuuge place. It was dug in the side of a hill, on a large (10+ acre) property. A bit out in the country, but possibly still in Fairfax county.
There was a The Simpsons episode, which was an episode that basically re-used a story from before (example: Simpsons got a horse twice in two different episodes in real life). I wish I could have a copy of that episode!

Anyway, Weird-Named-Guy smoked a lot of pot, and us and some other friends that showed up all participated [in the dream].

We eventually found out that the government was trying to seize the property from him, using various bullshit untrue illegal tactics. One involved a sheriff strongarming a permit guy into writing an assessment that he has somehow been breaking laws (zoning laws?) that he hadn’t actually been breaking. The sheriff had basically held a gun to this bearuecrat’s head and gotten him to write something completely untrue, which was then used to expand the indictment against the original property owner, this cool-dude-Marimex-Or-Atropos-Or-Something (“Weird-Named-guy”).

I believe the dream spanned several weeks … And I tended to have to ask him his name every time I visited his place.

We had been visiting quite frequently, as it was a vast cave-like labyrinthine structure, with a tv room, another room with loft beds, and various other HUGE rooms that were not necessarily maintained. I did not want to see this spot disappear, yet Weird-named-Guy was surprisingly cavalier about the fact that the government was out to get him. He would have nothing if this land was taken from him, as he did not have any real career prospects besides making money off the land he already owned.

I think he was resigned that the government was going to come, and probably kill him for trying to keep hold of what was rightfully his. It was kind of sad, that.

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

I was at Virginia Tech again — which happened during a dream I had the next day as well.

All I remember is playing The Pressman by Primus on guitar, hanging out with Joe R and John The Canadien.

Also, I had this pimento-banana shampoo. WTF.

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

Crazy crazy crazy shit not at all like real life! I don’t even know where to begin describing it.

We were at some hotel with my parents. I want to say it was a bit more to the west, like Centerville, but it may have also been a bit south as well. Point is, I’d been there before. Years before. Me & Carolyn had gotten a hotel room with some younger, slightly trashy, slightly rednecky brunette girl named Kate, and had had some times together in the hotel room years before. But then we’d just left, abandoning our stuff and forgetting it was ever there in the first place.

Somehow, I gained access to the room. I have no idea how that worked. There’s no logical explanation. My stuff was still in the room. This was approximately THREE YEARS later.

I think I had also tried to buy drugs from this girl, then didn’t want any afterward, so I didn’t bother staying in touch with her. So weird that I had a past history of drug use in the dream.

So yeah… Was it sex with her? Drugs with her? Just good times? If there was a past-threesome in the dream, it would have been nice to have a specific memory of that ;)

That was the thing — we had a history with this girl. I’d hang out with her and some of her friends. She had a specific friend that would smoke K2 with me in the dream, then be kinda upset that I’d always bring it around because he knew he’d smoke it.

We’d both left a lot of stuff in the hotel room, including the key that we’d never returned. This created some issues. I went to turn in the key, and was given a bill for $97,300 or so. I explained that just because I forgot to check out, doesn’t mean they should just hold a room for me for THREE YEARS and expect to bill me for it. This would ruin me!

The lady behind the desk (which was 2-3 floors below the main lobby/entrance, where hotel desks usually are) would have none of it. I decided to go over her head, which involved going one floor up (so now we are 1-2 floors below the main lobby/entrance). The person behind THAT desk was Eli, who basically crumped my bill, saying fugghedaboutit.

Even still, I had access to the room! I went back and realized there was a LOT of stuff I had forgotten there. It was like Christmas, getting my own stuff back. Kate had left an extensive cassette collection there, with tapes strewn about. They tended to be glamier metal. I don’t remember specifically, but I would expct Motley Crue and Def Leppard and Scorpions and the like. I spent some time putting them away. I took a few loads of trash out and dumped them into the maid’s cart when I realized there was not a trashcan to be found anywhere. I remember thinking, “How could she possibly have never come in here and cleaned the room IN THREE YEARS? She must have enjoyed having one less room to clean.”

I told my parents about it… And how Kate was probably only 20-23 years old. They kinda shook their head at the prospect of me & Carolyn getting hotel rooms with 20-year-olds. I asked them to take some of my unexpected stuff, as I now had more stuff than I could carry, and we had not planned to spontaneously find all this stuff of mine. They left with my stuff.

They were my ride, yet I went back to continue cleaning the room for 30-60 minutes, so I don’t know what they were doing. Waiting patiently in their car for me to come back? I doubt that would ever happen in real life. I should have known this was a dream… for so many reasons.

I remember thinking that me & Carolyn would have to go back to this hotel for the hotel bar, in hopes of running into someone who knew Kate, so we could give her back her cassette collection, and possibly buy drugs.

So yeah — a lot of the dream was about this girl Kate, who was never actually IN the dream. Very twisted.

REAL LIFE COMMENTS: The weird part was not the dream as much as having a DETAILED back story that went back YEARS. I had memories of parties and such we’d gone to with Kate, extensive memories lasting years. When I woke up in real life, I was positive that some of those memories were references to OTHER dreams I’d had in real life in the past. After (again, in real life) pouring through years’ of past dream journals, I could not find any of these other dreams that I thought were referenced in tonite’s dream, so I guess they didn’t exist. Or perhaps I never wrote them down. I don’t think I’ve had a dream with a years-long timeline since 20090611. From wake to finishing typing this up, it was 45 minutes.

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

Was traveling around with family or friends or something, in a weird multi-level building. Oh look! Kieth B has an office here! I’ll ask him about that reference. Brrring! “Sorry, I have a phone call.” He takes the call and won’t talk to me.

Seriously now… This is the 2nd dream about me having trouble getting in contact with ex-supervisors to use as a reference. My old company [in real life] has a no-reference policy — they only verify employment dates — and because they still work there, they probably aren’t allowed to give a specific reference. But who knows. It’s a source of anxiety for sure, and this is the 2nd dream it’s manifested in.

So then I’m in a weird dorm-showeresque room… But it’s in our house. Roaches! Holy fuck, there are the roaches! We found them! Get them! Get them!

This relates to the real-life occurence of us possibly having finally exterminated the last roaches in our house — we haven’t seen any since we killed their HQ *and* got their egg sacs 2 weeks ago. 2 weeks being a record since the roaches started 9 months ago. Here’s hoping this dream is the last time I’ll see a roach in my house!

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

Dreamed I ran into my old friend Robert Beck.

We partied at his place, went back to my place where there was already a party in progress (so why the hell wasn’t I at my own party?), partied some more. He had brought a girl and another guy with him.

At some point, it was the next day, and the girl needed a ride home or something. So I got on the bus with her, which again makes no fucking sense. I am not contributing the ride she needs if I am just another passenger on the bus. WTF.

So after being on the bus for awhile, I realize it’s a high school bus of students. They start making fun of me for not being hip and knowing about $SOME_BAND they were talking about. “How can you not know who $SOME_BAND is?! Huh?” Finally, I blurt out, “BECAUSE I’M 38!!” … That shut them up.

We arrived at school, and it was Gar-Field High School, the same-floor-plan nemesis school to my real life high school Woodbridge High (fresh in my mind because I just want to my 20-Year Reunion in real life).

I was concerned that I would somehow get in trouble for taking the bus there, and more so for wandering the halls and not attending class. I became annoyed that I would have to pay for a taxi ride back to my house, but I wanted to get the fuck out of there, so that’s what I did.

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)


So I was in an episode of The Office. I was Jim. But something had happened, and I had forgotten my shirt. We were in some assembly type meeting in a reverse ampitheatre. That is, it really reminded me of the real-life Squires Student Center at Virginia Tech, except instead of the teacher on the floor at the lowest level, with everyone looking down… We were sitting at that lowest level, looking up. This makes no sense, as that’s not how ampitheatre/classes are held. But nobody noticed this.

So I was hanging out, kinda joking around, not paying too much attention to this assembly… When one of The Office characters (Kevin?) pointed out that I had no shirt on. I was somewhat disturbed that I’d gone to work shirtless, and not even realized it. I asked someone for a shirt. I think Andy had a spare one, but then it was a bit small for me.

I’m not sure when The Office part ended. It was a bit more elaborate than my description. At some point I was not in The Office, but was still shirtless and in the corporate world. We had gone to another building for a friend to run an errand. I was in the halls with him, still embarassingly under-shirted. Walking down corridors. He went into one businessplace, so I was in the hall alone, shirtless, getting a drink from the water fountain, as businessman walked by, obviously wondering if they need to call police/security. Awkwarrrrd.

At some point, I woke up from The Office dream — and perhaps the outer-layer dream that the inner-layer-Office-dream was contained in — and told Carolyn ALL about it, in greater detail than I can remember. I had written talking points on my left arm, succintly summarizing up what happened, and I elaborated on each one to her.

But the point that I woke up and told my dream to Carolyn might have been at the very end of things. Or it may be that I fell back to sleep and had more dreams. I’m really not sure.

Because I also had a crazy dream segment with me trying desperately to get home, but failing. I was in my car, but it was at the bottom of a 2-storey tall concrete backyard stairscase. Cars were not supposed to be down here. There was no road or driveway. It was a pedestrian staircase to someone’s house (as is common with houses higher/lower than the street they are on). To top things off, the top of the staircase was a cul-de-sac, and a car was parked in front of it. I was pretty much trapped, but I said “fuck it”, and drive up the concrete stairs. Amazingly, I got enough traction to handle the 45-degree pointy-stair-corner angle, and even gained enough momentum, to drive over the curb/bushes that were necessary to drive over to get around the car blocking the top.

At some point, I looked at my car, and it was just the trunk and the engine. The insides were all smashed up. Not sure how that worked. I really should realize these things are dreams!

But that wasn’t then. I still continued to drive around. I was at some downtown market. I ran into an ex-co-worker. Maybe Meschelle, but as is common in my dreams, people are not fully defined, just concepts, so I don’t know who they are for sure. Hardly ever. Even when they are close friends. So anyway, we are talking, and without her saying it, I gather she is homeless. So I offer to buy her some overpriced $5 sandwich at a local vendor stand. Meanwhile, my car is fucked up (maybe now it’s finally just-trunk-and-engine), and I’m not sure how to get home myself.

Everything was a jumbled mess. There was definitely a dream-within-a-dream, for sure. But the downtown-market-stuff was likely a completely different dream. But the fucked up car in that dream seems to be linked to the driving-up-concrete-stairs event, except that my car WASN’T fucked up for that one. So who knows. There were a lot of other crazy aspects that I don’t remember.

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

I was a Xana-style space warrior princess. Can’t remember being a woman in a dream before? I had somehow gotten stranded on a sentient insect-race ship that was mostly empty. Problem is — they had noise detectors. If you made more than a whisper’s worth of noise, hooks would come down from the ceiling to scoop you up and imprison you. It was a very harrowing dream.. I may have woken up. It may technically have been a nightmare.

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

I was at some party in a basement.

I’m not sure how, but we were going to play this board game. I think it had a 3-phase turn. Phase 1 was to just pick up whatever currency/gold was laying at the square you were on. Phase 2 was to use it to buy something. Phase 3… No clue. But it existed.

I’m a lazy dreamer and don’t flush out unnecessary details; friends don’t have faces/names etc. But one person WAS there for sure: Dana C^r1s3n.

Anyway, we decided to LARP the game up a bit, and ditch the board, putting the various currency pieces all around the basement. For your turn, you’d have to walk to a different part of the basement, find the currency, edit your inventory, then play out your main turn.

I was thinking it was pretty kick-ass, but then about 3 turns in or so, people stopped me, and were just like, “Okay. You win Clint. I don’t want to play.”

I was a bit crestfallen at the situation. It reminded me very much of real life, where I have a lot of friends who refuse to play games, forcing me to just sit there and do nothing. I’m fine with conversation, but… If we can’t watch a movie or show, or play a game, conversation alone only holds my interest for 30-60 minutes, unless there is a party’s worth of people to talk to (i.e. 20+). I’m starting to realize (again, in real life) that if that’s how it is, I’d rrather just hang out with Carolyn.

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

Had a dream that re-visited a real-life problem I’d been trying to crack for a couple decades: Converting my Apple2 software/disks to PC format.

This was always impossible in real-life because PC drives were not capable of reading Apple2-format disks. But around 2004 or so, someone finally figured it out: You need a DOS box with *two* 5.25″ floppy drives (and a harddrive). The software splits the various signals between the two floppy drives, tricking the PC drive into using [incomplete?] signals to actually be able to read an Apple2 disc.

Again, this is all a real-life issue. I’d been grabbing dead computers from parents’ and such, but none tended to have 5.25″ drives anymore–everyone switched to 3.5″ drives in the early 1990s, and it’s 20 frickin’ years later.

So anyway, in the dream, I was trying to crack this problem again. I was home at my parents’ house… It felt like a college summer-vacation or something, and perhaps it was. Perhaps the dream-within-the-dream was in the mid-1990s. I’m unsure of the barrier between the two, other than that I knew it was a dream within a dream. Our Apple2 had a modem, and I decided to call some BBSes like I used to on college summer breaks in real-life.

This is the point that I should have realized this was a dream: Had I had a modem on my Apple2, I would have been able to, in theory, use 2 disk drives, imaging the 1st disk onto the 2nd drive, then uploading the image to a PC of mine, using 2 phone lines (which we had). This is actually something I asked my dad for in real-life many many times, and he always refused, thus me still having dreams about the prospect 20 years later.

So anyway, in dreamland, I get on the Apple2 and call some BBSes and such. At some point, I wake up from the dream-within-a-dream, and am just in the dream, which is in the present (2012), and not in the mid-1990s. In the dream, I have woken up from the dream-within-the-dream, and realize I need to get cracking on making this conversion project finally happen.

So in this outer-layer dream, I realize that I need to research the software required to do that. On the software’s web-page, there are a few sample diskette images… Including one uploaded by my friend Angel, which had something to do with bypassing an interrupt on the Apple2. Despite the fact that I am using http:// to contact a webpage (still on an Apple, for some reason), a sysop breaks into sysop chat with me, just like in the BBS days. We talk about the problem, and I probably talk about the fact that I can only find one 5.25″ floppy drive, and haven’t been able to find another.

I wake up — this time, in real life. (The rest of this post is all in real life.)

I am quite agitated that this problem still has not been solved. I realize I can’t get back to sleep while thinking about this, and leave Carolyn in bed to go tinker with our old 486 DOS box that I have. It has a 5.25″ floppy drive and a 3.5″ floppy drive and a 1G harddrive. It has 8M (megs, not gigs) of RAM: 1/1000th of the ram of computers these days typically have. It has a turbo button. The harddrive has jumpers in THREE different places. I try to boot up, but it fails. We still have one “real” computer with a floppy drive: Carolyn’s 2004ish computer, which is still her primary computer. I download a bootable floppy image from http://bootdisk.com, and “burn” it to the disk. The 3.5″ drive still doesn’t boot. I go to our spare-hardware bookshelf, looking through my stack of 8 or so discarded 3.5″ floppy drives. Since computer fashion was white in the 1990s, and black in the late 2000s, I pick the only black drive, assuming that it’s newer. This one correctly boots up the floppy.

I still can’t access the harddrive. I take it out, and painstakingly write down the number of heads, cylinders, sector size, jumper configurations: Taking up a whole sheet of paper. I mess with a few configurations and can’t get the drive to be recognized. Finally, *while the computer is on*, I plug in the power to the harddrive, because I’ve passed the point of caring anymore. A big blue spark makes me jump, and shuts the power of the computer off: I overloaded the power supply, shutting everything down. This can be doom for a computer, but instead, I try booting up again, and for the first time, it works! IT’S ALIVE!

And it’s even been Clintified: It has a bootup 1-key menu to run cool programs like AcidWarp, Plaswave, and LSDino. I will use this to run a screen during parties!

So now all I need is a 2nd 5.25″ floppy drive. So I was going to a party the day I woke up with this dream… And decided to write on the wall of the party event, “If anyone has a 5.25″ floppy drive that they could give me… It would really make my day.”

And then…. a cool dude named Tom actually brought a drive, and gave it to Paul, who gave it to me!

So I got to go home with the drive I needed THAT DAY… Because of a fucking dream!

This is like the most productive dream I’ve ever had in my life!

''Dreams... They're the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.'' --Xavier:Renegade Angel

“Dreams… They’re the hurricanes that wash the soulfilth from the superdome of our nightminds.”
Xavier:Renegade Angel (more…)

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