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.
I have been playing Uncharted 3 recently as well as thinking about how some of the cinematography techniques could be used with 360 video and it ended up in my dream as a 3D/virtual reality version of the hanging train scenes from Uncharted 2. It was AWESOME. I could watch pieces of train fall at me, then look down to watch them fall below me. I was trying to figure out how to make this scene when I woke up.
I remember trying to sleep in a new apartment. My furniture wasn’t there, yet, so I was sleeping on the only thing I had – my couch. The apartment was on an upper floor of a city building. It was converted from some office because the door was a window door with an office lock. I remember trying to sleep, thinking about how similar the windows were to my old apartment, but this one had three windows instead of one. A neighbor started blasting some song and I tried to ignore it since it was the weekend. I thought, “Did I lock my door?” Then thought, “No one is going to just walk in…oh, wait, I would.” So I got up to lock the door.
The kitchen area was created out of the reception desk and was the opposite of my old apartment. The door was across from it, facing into an alcove instead of straight into the hall like my old apartment. I opened the door to check the areas in which I’d be visible to someone in the main hall. My neighbor had a solid white door and I thought I’d ask my landlord for one of those. To my left, there was a public restroom and drinking fountain. This apartment reminded me of an apartment I lived in in another dream.
This dream started out with my mom and I visiting some old lady, but I felt as if we were being held there instead of visiting. I remember being mad that someone took a whole can of my energy drink because I brought it and wanted it.
I looked out the window and the view was of a back parking lot area surrounded by one-story business buildings. In the center, there was a huge crater/pothole with a “tiny village” in it. It looked like a recreation of some old German town, but the buildings were like big dollhouse size.
Later, I found myself in the same location, but the crater was a pond with ducks and rare birds. My mom kept trying to get me to look at some black bird with a white tuft that looked invisible when in the water. Someone called it a Jack-bird or something.
This turned into me watching a standup by a local news reporter reporting on the rare birds. Once they finished, I heard in my earpiece (I guess I was part of the news team?) a conversation asking if the reporter was finished. Since she was, men around the pond started gathering the birds – most were limp (either dead or sleep). They told me the business was moving, but it sounded like they were out to kill the birds. I rushed over and grabbed a white goose – it looked like the Aflac one and tried to steal it to rescue it. I thought I could keep it as a pet if it was still alive – I never checked if it was breathing. A lady I knew from the business looked at me weird holding a goose when she was letting in a cleaning crew. I snuck around the back of the building to avoid more run ins with the staff and the same girl exited the building just as I was passing. She never said anything about the goose, but I made it around to my car – some rental that was a dark gray four-door sedan. I put it in the back seat and remembered looking at the buildings thinking the place has changed a lot over the last few years.
Slept for 12 hours after a week of not having enough sleep and too many nightmares.
I remember a scene where I was sitting at a long table in a cafeteria and the guy next to me nudged my elbow with a pencil. He was a guy that the guy I was seeing didn’t like and thought was dangerous and on the evil side. I wasn’t supposed to be talking to him – not just because my boyfriend didn’t trust him, but because we were working undercover for something and weren’t supposed to show we knew each other.
Eventually, the guy on my right tore off a piece of a magazine (a piece with a forwarding part that appears when you change your address) and wrote on it that my boyfriend shouldn’t be trusted because he could kill three people in one shot. He was a sniper, but I trusted both guys equally – I didn’t care if they had jobs that weren’t necessarily “good” or “safe” as long as I wasn’t a target. They both believed they were doing “good” through “not-so-good” deeds anyway.
I thought about that when I read his note. I crumbled up the paper and grabbed a notepad and a pencil and started writing, “you…” and messed up the “u” and frustratingly pushed something out of my way to write. I thought, “This is supposed to be short, why write out the word instead of just ‘u?'” I fixed the “u” and finished the sentence: “…guys would get along.”
I remember going on a family vacation with my parents – I finally got them to go to Washington, D.C.!
I woke up in the passenger seat of a car driven by my dad and my mom was sleeping in the back. I realized we passed this large mansion on the top of the hill with these large tall windows for the second time. I remember calling it “The White House, but Not THE White House.” I laughed and found out my dad got lost and we were in Virginia.
This turned into us being IN the house as part of a dream game. I remembered being there before and that the house was a maze. My dad apologized for getting lost and I said, “Don’t worry about it, I want to try to get us out of here using my memory of the first time I was here.” I had my mom sit comfortably somewhere because I remembered the insane amount of walking I did when I tried to find my way out the first time.
I remember pointing out a spot in one of the rooms explaining to my dad that a large brown chest was between two couches the first time I was there. I remember the open doorways with the rounded corners going into the area where the windows overlooked the hill. I remember REALLY liking that room when I was there the first time, which I remembered was some fancy schmancy political fundraiser and I remember having a conversation with a nice white-haired lady who held a glass of red wine, but she never drank it. I don’t know if I ever wrote down this dream.
The maze-like rooms had a grayish-white color with burgundy highlights.
This turned into something else with glass doors that closed to block people out. This happened twice as a plant and I got frustrated later when they mentioned it AGAIN right before my mom got locked out of the area we were in. I thought, “I saw that coming – they should have mentioned it ONCE earlier so the threat was in the back of the mind to increase tension, not keep telling us.”
“Too much sleep + mosquito bites + sound of a fly + watching Homeland before bed = crazy dreams about working for the government, attending a conference I wanted to volunteer at, talking to some guy in a military uniform about ice cream, went around looking for hidden notes from a local group of scavenger hunters, all to find out that I was beta testing a dream game with some other players.”
— Hope Moore on Facebook
What I remember days after the fact:
I remember being hired to work for a government-run department with high security and was trained for the job. Other positions and departments were understaffed and I took over a spot/shift for someone and their area was farther underground. I caught something and saved the department money and embarrassment and a group of higher ups followed me around to see how I did so. I told them I was just filling in and wasn’t even trained for the job I was subbing in. All but my direct supervisor (which I called my “direct report” in my dream) left. She sat and watched me look at monitors. I thought she’d be so bored because that job wasn’t that entertaining or exciting.
I remember parts where I was eating at an event and thought about volunteering the next year despite volunteers being younger and students (lower-rung type) instead of where my status was. I wanted to explore an area, but triggered a part of the “dream game” and it took me to the next scene. I watched as other players explore the areas I wanted to explore.
Later, I was in a car with other players as the main player had an interaction with an NPC in a house. I told the other players how far I thought we were in the game based on my first playthrough.