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.
“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.
I remember playing a VR game. The setting was in a “town” and I found my way stealthy into an “office” or whatever that was a one-room shed designed to look like a place to store stuff to explore a nearby lake or forest.
The story was told through interaction with items and areas of the room. The areas were marked by a floating white ball (like in Beyond: Two Souls) and I remember having to hold a button (or make a hand gesture) and a circle would form around the white ball before triggering the item/area.
One part had a task where I had to find a label or word on the bottom of an item. I remember picking up the items and turning my hand/controller to look underneath them, but messed up the position of the items and made too much noise. An enemy person was about to enter the office, so I tried to hide. I finally found a location behind the door that worked, but I thought about looking up playthroughs on YouTube to see the other options.
Yesterday, I played and accomplished a lot in Watchdogs, played a little of Game of Thrones (I’m looking at the decision trees), and watched some Last of Us playthrough videos.
I remember my friend Jenn having a trip and a room booked on a cruise (small boat, like a commuter version), but she couldn’t go. She offered the ticket to me as long as I delivered her stuff.
In a later dream, it happened again, but she didn’t have a room. I was frustrated because I had no place to store her stuff safely for the three-hour trip. I found a common sink and wrapped up her things – including these beautiful dark blue glass glasses – hoping they didn’t look like things to steal and put them underneath. I charged my phone and found an old flip phone, but didn’t have the right charger for it. A stranger had one and offered it.
I remember visiting my parents and parking right outside of their open garage, but had my lights off. I honked. I remember turning my lights on and saw I almost hit some tall red display cart.
I put my car in reverse to back up, but couldn’t park my car (a button). I woke up getting frustrated that it’s like when I can’t dial 9-1-1 in dreams. Buttons don’t seem to work.
I remember a dream game that had characters (not animated) in a team that reminded me a little of Team Fortress 2. I heard Overwatch is similar, but I haven’t played that, yet. For some reason, the females, like myself, chose normal-sized and normal-looking humans. One girl was way more promiscuous than the rest of us and I actually complimented her on her confidence, despite her constant want for all the women to show more skin.
I remember we were all trying to go over plans and introduce each other in a small dorm room. I found a gold-plated badge with a player’s ID number and knew the two letters were the initials of the player. I asked if anyone’s real name had the initials, “G as in Gregory and H as in……Hotel?”
There was a part where each person got some kind of ring that gave them powers. A tall lanky character said, “The rings have puzzlers, I tell you!” and another character commented how it made them feel “royal.” The big, muscular character explained, “In all my years of casting rings, I have never seen rings form to each finger automatically. They appear to be magic.”
I remember the winners on my runs were always the survivors – not the best players or leaders, but we won by default. The teams I was on (and often led) tended to be raunchy, chaotic, and immature. My leading style in the game was so laisez-faire that I remember pairing up with a guy who would make inappropriate jokes, but never really reprimanded him – I would just tell people to ignore him.
I saw a glimpse of Charlie’s* “world” (as I called it). He had a better team and was a better leader. The pair was of two professional women and the whole team would survive and the “winners” were based on points and leadership.
There was a scene where I was in a uniform/light-weight armor of some sort and running through a grassy environment near Charlie and we had our IDs in text above our heads. I tried to remember his, knowing it was a dream game, hoping I’d remember when I was awake.
It was 108CS4042…. something (it might have been 109 and the number and initials have been changed to protect the identity this Charlie is based on). The numbers following the initials I don’t think were relevant data, but I remembered them because they were near Charlie’s football jersey number, 41. I’m not sure what the first three numbers stood for, if anything.
I remember talking to someone dressed like the main character on Watchdogs and I remember considering the guy a trustworthy acquaintance, despite having people – as well as the federal government – after him.
We were on a city street at twilight just outside a building with a digital billboard and a camera to the right. I thought he was gutsy for standing outside a camera like that, but it wasn’t his face that was being tracked. He hacked things with his phone – with apps that would be cumbersome to load on burner phones – so the SID was tracked instead. He had an app that would warn him when his SID triggered an alarm, so he would have to go into airplane mode and leave the area.
I thought about asking him about that app the next time.
When I woke up, I thought that would be an interesting way to track people who can’t do their activities on burner phones. Facial recognition can be fooled, SIDs probably can as well, but limiting the ability to use a communication device would be a smart way for law enforcement to deter some crimes.
I remember “investigating” Charlie* – trying to get usernames or something – and found a profile with his info on a Russian website. I only knew it was Russian from the .ru at the end of the address.
I was looking into this at “work” (in my dream, it was at what I called my “old” job). Charlie worked there as well in another department. Someone in his department was testing some expandable turret, but it didn’t have enough room in the hall. The room I was in had an angled, but higher ceiling, so I invited them in to test it there.
During the test, the one guy wanted me to look up something on my computer and went over to look at the results before I even got that far. I started getting nervous because I had all this info about Charlie on the screen. I tried to switch screens, go back, SOMETHING…but…buttons don’t work in dreams.
* Name has been changed