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?
“ Dreamed NASA opened up requirements for space travel by having a group in charge of piloting and other jobs in weightlessness and a group who were the traditional physically fit people that would build stations on the moon. I was selected to be one of the pilots, but also as a general ‘computer person’ and Russian translator. Part of the dream involved smart kids getting recruited to colonize Mars – they’d be adults by the time they were trained and arrived. My dream skipped over the training parts and I remember being anxious about the trip.”
— Hope Moore on Facebook
Klaus – a friend/past coworker from waking life – was there and he tried to calm me down.
It turned into some story idea/dream where I found out they never developed a way to have us return safely after dropping off the people on the moon. We worked with some guy named “Jensen” (an engineer) to develop a way we could land safely or find a way to the ISS. We had to work in secret despite cameras everywhere that had a feed that was available online 24/7 because NASA command (or whatever) planned to stop us. They had remote control over our power and life supply and showed that when I first found out about the suicide mission. I went to get Jensen after I found out and had us both turn our microphones off to discuss it. They told us to turn them back on. We did and I was snarky and asked them if they knew – I mean, they had to, right? They told us to keep our mics on and I said, “Get used to not hearing us” and made it clear I wasn’t going to take orders when our orders would lead to our destruction. That’s when they shut off the power and turned it back on explaining they were in control.
Being recorded and broadcasted live 24/7 involved a whole b-story. There were parts where I talked to Klaus about how it’s not that we (humans) don’t want to be watched, it’s usually about how we don’t want to be judged. (I remember this part because of a weird habit I have when it comes to holding onto things like a refrigerator handle, door frame, etc. and I was holding onto a handle above me to try to remain still.) There was a part where we could get video calls from loved ones and reporters. That’s where the judgment would come in. Even when responding, the camera was much higher than the video feed and people watching would comment how we couldn’t make eye contact or that we were answering untruthfully because we were looking down. I was the only one who didn’t do this because I’ve always known to look at the camera to make it look like I’m keeping eye contract when the others were making eye contact with the faces on the video feeds. I thought it was dumb that something so small would cause people to judge us and struggled with later decisions that involved deals that broke social norms just because our survival was at risk. Even though we wouldn’t get any feedback, I still think we were being broadcasted. The only reason NASA didn’t cut our power was because it was good TV. We later were able to communicate through written notes that didn’t align with our speech in order to continue planning until we had full control.
The craziest parts were based on things from real life like my heart rate being so slow that NASA command would periodically check up on me when my heart rate would dip. However, my heart gave away my discovery about not having a reentry plan even when I tried to keep a straight face.
The Russian translation part came in because we were all trained in basic Russian, but I focused my training to be a translator because I like languages. We planned to possibly work with the Russians since we felt America kinda screwed us over and Russians could help us out and then use it as a political move. In the end, we’d get back safely. We tried to find a way to do it and not risk looking like traitors enough to get killed and that getting picked up by the Russians was an accident, not planned.
There was even a scene where Klaus told me when we’d have access to Russian communications that would reach their government. I wasn’t ready and believed NASA would catch us and turn off our power if I tried to reach out at that time. He said we wouldn’t have the ability to contact them again for 3 hours. We both decided to use those 3 hours to find a way to disrupt NASA’s control of our systems while maintaining access to data and comms.
We had another person who was in charge – we referred to him as our CO (commanding officer) – but we thought he was in on the plan. I later explained to him our plans knowing there was a part of him that wanted to survive and our plans involved saving everyone on board – even if some had to go to the ISS and other landed. We didn’t plan on sacrificing anyone. In the end, he kept out of our way.
Later, the story ended when we successfully landed in an ocean. Jensen tried to pull me out of the water – we were the only conscious ones – but I went to unbuckle Klaus and motioned for Jensen to get our CO. I was able to get Klaus and he was OK, but Jensen left our CO because he was pinned under something and bleeding from the head. We were quickly rescued by Russians in helicopters. They pointed guns at our heads and I remember smiling and saying “Spasibo.”
The Russians used us as “hostages” to get something from America, but we were treated well because we made a deal with them.
“Gah. Got stuck in a semi-lucid dream false awakening loop where the plot was that I was a guide in the anesthetic-induced dream for some guy named Sal or Saul Weinstein or Feinstein from the past while he was in surgery. I would explain to him what the weird sounds were and the sound track was from me. Later, some lady talked said a rhyme about how Kennedy wasn’t elected by one person, that it took many. The hours-long scene ended, and the dream started turning black. I started freaking out because I didn’t know how to wake up. I tried and ended up in front of a house in the late 80s /early 90s and the kids there couldn’t understand why I was frustrated. I tried to wake again and it didn’t seem to change much and I went into this whole spiel about how the place was a poor place and because if that, I have no idea what decade I was in because it made sense that this community would have old cars and no cell phones. I kept saying I was from the 2020s and later corrected that. I wondered if I was dead and was about to accept my fate (being stuck in a lucid dream and traveled through time, getting stuck in the past) when I woke up. Only a half hour had really passed.”
— Hope Moore on Facebook
I possibly have a cold or allergy causing sleep disorder symptoms again.
This is the first sleep paralysis episode I’ve had in a while.
I remember being in my room, but instead of me being an adult and my room being in my apartment, I was young and living with my parents. Light was coming through my window from a full moon or a streetlight and I heard a female struggling – between a grunt and being out of breath.
I thought it was an intruder trying to come through the window. Then, I thought, why would an intruder choose a second-floor window? I couldn’t move to investigate the noise or grab a weapon. I yelled for my mom – mostly to nicely tell the intruder there are multiple people in the house, so they should choose a different one. My mom yelled (I heard her through the closed door) and basically told me to go to sleep. I guess earlier in the dream, I’d call her in for stupid stuff.
This intruder kept coming. I saw a shadow of a small female coming down from the roof. I questioned, why would someone go through the trouble to sneak in by starting on the roof of a three-story house?
Then, I woke up.
I realized the “struggling” breathing noises was me as I was going through stress. It wasn’t closed breathing as much as if I were just running and I was trying to breathe through my nose to catch my breath.
This dream was inspired by the short film Jiminy.
In waking life, scientists were able to hook up wires/chip to a mouse and control its actions.
In my dream, a law was passed to where everyone had one of these chips put in their brain stem.
People could opt out – it’s America, after all – but were required to get them if they wanted to get a government-issued ID, driver’s license, passport, etc. and criminals were given them no matter what and homeless people had to get them for any assistance.
Most people opted in for “safety” reasons. Criminals could be programmed to drop weapons, made to not want to commit crimes, and depressed people could be programmed to not have suicidal thoughts or at least not physically be able to kill themselves.
It was also to help with addictions that lead to crimes.
So, one night, someone hacked the system and basically made everyone hooked into it kill themselves and others. They’d kill others out of fear because the program made them think their lives were in danger.
There was even a scene where a whole apartment complex were made to want to go swimming at the same time and never surface for air.
I played the main character and never understood why, but the chip I reluctantly received had little to no effect.
I spent the dream running and hiding from the crazy people finding those who weren’t affected either and helping them.
I woke up pissed because I don’t like nightmares, especially ones with a premise and no plot or solution.
Luckily, I fell back to sleep.
I remember a scene where I spoke to someone through a fence and was able to convince them that something was wrong. I told them to ignore their impulses and think things through – did they feel this way the day before? why did they feel this way now?
It made the person focus on metacognition and it seemed to turn off or lower the volume of the chip.
I found out that was why many of us weren’t affected – we were the type to question WHY we thought the way we do and made decisions more on logic instead of impulse.
The last thing I remember was a rising crane shot of a dark city street.
I was about to speak over a loud speaker to get people to think about their thoughts in an effort to turn off the chip.
Then, I woke up.