I don’t have time to write these out, but here are some notes so I don’t forget to maybe add them to a story I started.
Some dream where I wandered into a “farm” like area with a sign that it was the [can’t remember the first name] C. Smart Center. A guy with bandages on his head came in, closing the gate as if he were keeping something dangerous out. He looked relieved he wasn’t alone and said something about it, but said he was glad he wasn’t the only one sick. I got angry and confused and argued with him I wandered in. I wasn’t told to be there and if I were sick, it was because I was talking to him (if he was sick) so closely.
I remember passing out fliers that cost $12 for some reason. After I woke up, I realized there was a message on them I should have read and could have read since all the dreams I had that night involved reading.
I remember hearing banging coming from the kitchen. I wasn’t dressed, so I covered up with a towel and went to see what was going on. The back door lock was turning as if someone was struggling with the lock. I thought maybe my landlord needed to enter or something, but the door opened, knocking down the trash bin I have blocking the door and the intruder was some dangerous looking guy with missing front teeth. He seemed dangerous, but I think he was smiling more at the fact he was successful at getting the door open than actually wanting to do harm. He had a little of that “observer” feeling from dreams from years ago.
There was a character that said to me that he was trying shared dreaming and I remember thinking I needed to reach out to him in waking life to tell him it worked. I can’t remember who it was and I’m not about to ask every guy I know.
A lucid dream where I was able to read a sign aloud. The grammar was bad, but the logo looked like a V inside of a V – similar to the Viacom logo, but backward and one V was skinny. It was gold and I keep thinking I’ve seen it on some kind of VHS in the past. Later in that dream, I toured a technology area being run by some Asian company. They said we can look all we want because they’ll erase our memories or block what is secret. It made me wonder why would you even WANT to look at something you’ll know you’ll forget and would you even remember looking at all? Would it be erased memories or would it be like alcohol that prevents memories from even being made?
Going with my story, I questioned if we’d give consent and if we forget giving consent to having our memory erased, would it really be ethical and really be consent? I mean consent in research projects, etc. usually is something you can know you made a decision to do and can change your mind. If you don’t remember giving consent or even remember what you gave consent to, how would that even work? What if what you volunteered to forget is a threat to your life, which you could remedy, but only if you knew the cause and existence of the threat?
I’m writing this weeks after I dreamed it, so here goes…
In waking life, I had just bought a PSVR, but I hadn’t set it up, yet.
I remember being in a house and knowing it was some new VR technology where the AI gets used to the neural pathways of the player (like that one Black Mirror episode) and the characters and environments get more realistic as time goes on. I remember tips about shooting and was a little prepared. I could hear the researchers in the room as I played.
The first few enemies looked like old-school 3D games like Resident Evil 4 and were easy to shoot. I remember thinking I could see old-school 3D pistols, but it felt like Vive hand controllers. I remember that the end of the level had a boss (this one was some middle-aged heavy-set blond lady) that someone in the lab said everyone fails gets killed by her. I used a virtual wall to take cover – something other players don’t usually do because they don’t think about the environment in a 3D way at first – and defeated her.
I went through the house and into a kitchen with white cabinets and a hardwood floor. I was so concerned about shooting my enemies, I didn’t explore as much as I would normally. I did open one cabinet (similar action and feeling to a Vive) just to see if I could and there were supplies. Each level featured new characters with different actions. It started with shooting standing people, then moving people who shot back, then characters who would take strategic cover. Each new level had more detailed characters as well and they looked like real people eventually. Even my weapons were becoming more lifelike in weight and feel.
I went to the basement and there was a new character. I threw a grenade that I crafted with the materials in the cabinets and drawers at him, but it missed and bounced near the stairs. The character went over and poured a 5-gallon jug of gasoline on it and near me and lit a match. I didn’t think I could hit the moving character, so I shot the bomb to make it explode. I was too close and the explosion burnt my left arm. It BURNED and left blisters. I thought it was so awesome that the game was so well designed, I could feel injuries!
Later, I remember different people and crowds and I couldn’t tell if I was still in the dream. I no longer heard the people in the lab, but I remember an “Agent” character that might have been a “Man in Black” that I was for sure was an enemy in the dream. He reached for his gun and I got up and shot him…but not really. The guy was taking out a cell phone and I was pointing an invisible gun at him. The guy to my right looked at me as if I were crazy.
The coolest thing about this dream was that there were so many game dynamics from leveling, to character types, to looting and crafting, etc. It needed a plot, though.
In my dream, this song was in my head, but it was loud and actually sounded better and more upbeat than this. There was a part where I didn’t know the lyrics and realized I was dreaming when I made the guy slur the lyrics.
I remember sitting in a helicopter, strapped in with a strap on each shoulder. I’ve never flown in a helicopter, so I don’t know how realistic it was. One weird thing was that I was sitting above the pilot and other passenger and I could only see through a window that was below where I was sitting. I was disappointed because I love heights and wanted to watch as we were flying.
We landed near a place with yellow tape. When I got out, I saw we were in a really pretty city with skyscrapers. The other passenger was some “official” person (I called her a handler in my dream) who was around my age. She was dressed in a nice business outfit and I remember knowing she was a nice person. The helicopter pilot was a good-looking guy around my age and was in a military uniform.
The helicopter guy left and I went to one of the buildings to use the restroom. The toilet wouldn’t flush and the stall wasn’t lit well. I left to have someone else fix it.
The woman checked me into a fancy hotel suite. It looked at least 3 stars, but most likely 4 stars. I don’t remember looking outside, so I think the curtains were drawn. The colors were a nice burgundy and cream color. I kept thinking the room was too large for one person – it seemed larger than one of my past apartments!
I was bored, so I walked around and realized I had been there before! There was a small meeting room across from the bathroom. I went in there and found the materials from the event I remember attending. It was a small training class to go over some management thing. I found a “workbook” with a faded/pastel orange cover with stock photos of people working together. It appeared to have been partly damaged by water and then shoved in a bag or box for months. I found a bag that belonged to a coworker and looked through it. I found two pairs of nice motorcycle gloves and remembered our training session was in the winter and he said he would always forget his gloves there and bring new ones and end up with several pairs. There was also a bag inside that I now I think was a rifle of some sort. The main bad was thin and padded and could unzip almost completely.
Later, I checked what was behind the door to the hotel suite, expecting a hallway. Instead, it led out to the lobby. I closed the door and noticed a taped sign that said “Wet Paint” (or repaint?). I turned to go back to the bed and heard what sounded like a cart being pushed along a wooden floor. I woke up thinking someone was in my apartment.