This dream started out as a multiplayer “dream game” and we all had these kickass outfits and lightweight headsets that made half-halos around our heads.
We won a level and my dream started to go a little lucid and I was trying to hop from one floating land mass to another. Sadly, I don’t remember this part too well.
What I do remember is being on a platform with who I first thought was Charlie*, but I really think it was Warren*. I’m having a bad reaction to medicine in waking life that’s messing with my mood and that started seeping into my dream. Warren looked down as well, so ran over to him.
He grabbed me in a long Warren hug – that’s when I realized it was him – he looked like a digital version of himself: same eyes, hair, and skin tone, but a wider chin and body type (more like Charlie). He held me longer than usual and whispered in my ear, “I love you.” I whispered back, “I love you, too.” He then said, “everything will be OK.” I was about to say it back, but I ended up saying, “ditto.”
Later, I went to his cabin in the dream – this one-room wooden place. He seemed nervous to let me even see in and I saw why: He was living with demons – cartoonish characters symbolizing psychological issues he has to deal with. They were off to one side of the cabin and there were maybe five or so. One was a tiny furry ball hiding, looking away in the corner symbolizing psychosis (I think); a demon who I couldn’t get a good look at because it moved from one spot to another so quickly, they appeared as a yellowish white blur; and I think I remember a cowering (or sneaky?) little devil guy who represented guilt, but the biggest one that towered confidently over everyone including Warren was this bulky guy in a leopard print wrestling leotard carrying a large wooden club. He was Depression who found joy in hitting his victims over the head and watching them suffer.
He looked at me and his eyes lit up as if he couldn’t wait to make me his next victim. Now, I wonder if it was not to hurt me just to hurt me, but to hurt me to hurt both me and Warren.
I quickly left and walked to my home in the dream – not sure, why, but it was in a place inside a tent. Partway back, I noticed Depression following me. I picked up the pace and so did he.
I got to my place and closed and locked the door (some latch type). Depression tried to get me to open the door, but I thought if I did, he’d find his way in and stay too long and maybe live there, too.
I never did look behind me, but I know there were demons living with me, too. I’m sure my Depression looks either like myself with the number 6 on her shirt or as an amorphous shape of suffocating black smoke. Sometimes, it looks like a long black dragon that likes to suffocate its victims like a boa constrictor.
Other than that, I dreamed I was designing a school building with something similar to Planet Coaster. I was having fun trying to set it all up. I’m kinda disappointed the game doesn’t exist/all my creative work never existed in a way for others to see or me to add to.
*Names were changed.
The dreams I remember were all about trying to stop or catch bad guys.
I remember being with Warren* (I think) chatting in a city on a pedestrian bridge. He was dressed up for some reason and I joked saying he looked as if he were running for office. I looked back to my left to a building with at least two wings and a place where people dropped off people. On about the third or fourth floor, some guy with an “assault” rifle broke out a window. I thought, “Ugh. Asshole. Breaking windows and shit.”
I tried to count the floors and get a location to report to the police. I asked Warren what the name of the place was and he says it was “Civic Center” or something like that. I know of a “Civic Center” on a riverfront and it didn’t look like this building.
The gunman shot at us and a bullet hit the concrete railing we were leaning against – right in between us. He went back inside the building. I remember trying to look over the ledge and to my right to get a better idea of where I was located, but I woke up.
I remember running through a basement hallway. It was a classic old basement of a building with gray glazed floor and walls with dusty fluorescent bar-shaped lights.
I had to push a janitorial cart out of the way that led into another hallway with a storage closet. No one was there and I was relieved. However, I thought, “I must have gotten here earlier this time,” as if I had played this experience before. Warren was in this one, too.
Eventually, a semi-chubby guy came rushing down the hallway, dressed as a delivery guy, holding a taped Amazon box. He headed straight for the supply closet. I stopped him, telling him he’s going to hurt people with the bomb. I asked him why he agreed to it and he said those that made him help pay for his wife’s life-saving medications.
Sometime during this dream, I started to freak out. I remember being close to Warren as if we had worked together for a long time, but when I tried to remember scenes/memories of after catching bad guys, I couldn’t. I expected to be able to remember the “boring” aspects of this hero “game” or life or whatever, thinking that’s where our relationship grew. Since I couldn’t remember, I started to worry they were blocking my memory of those events for some reason and I HATE losing memories and blacking out in dreams.
* Name has been changed.
I remember a “dream game” where I had to hide in some restroom stalls. One was on fire. I remember knowing it was a game and tried to shoot a female “enemy” with a rifle of some sort. I felt bad about it because game or not, it was too realistic and I’m not a shooter – I rather stealth, melee, or friend enemies. I remember running from the room and knowing my way out of a maze of stalls.
Later, I remember being some sort of reporter and reporting on unique sporting events. One involved something like volleyball, but with just kicking and the players were not allowed to take their hands off the ground unless moving. Another “sport” was something to do with motorbikes in a canyon, but the people were mad I was there, so I had to sneak up on them. There was one part, too, where someone was looking for me/someone playing a certain dream game. I pretended to be asleep, thinking they wouldn’t know which game I was playing or just normally dreaming. It worked.
To help my memory and creativity, I’ve decided to start writing in this journal again and adding some old notes from other dreams.
Last night, I remember there were “agents” searching for me. There was a group of them as if I’d be hard to catch or something and they were led by one guy. Another guy came to warn me and we ducked into an abandoned store.
I didn’t feel afraid of the group or guilty or anything, but I knew I had to try to run. The guy who warned me was way more concerned than I was.
I was about to go out a back door when a girl yelled my first and last name from outside the front door. I stopped to talk to her because I semi-trusted her. I didn’t know what “side” she was on, but I thought she was a good person and worth hearing out. She didn’t come to warn me about the pursuers as much as just notify me. I told her, “I know and that’s why I’m going out the back.”
I went through a door with one of those security metal coverings and a lever handle that didn’t move and out the back into a city alley. I expected a portion of the group there since it would make sense I’d go that way, but there wasn’t anyone. The alley was paved with old brick and it appeared to have rained earlier. The corners of the sidewalks even had worn yellow “dotted” areas (you know, for the blind?). The storefronts reminded me of the ones on State and Court streets in Athens, but this wasn’t Athens. It felt a little like German Village in Columbus, but it wasn’t there, either. After I woke up, I realized it was similar to a location in a past dream that involved running away from something as well, but I was running in the other direction.
This dream later was played back in a “frame” and it showed how close I was to being spotted, but another character would make me move just in time to avoid an “agent” who comically looked down the alley and into dumpsters for me.
I had other dreams, but I don’t remember them. I do, however, remember waking up and being disoriented. It’s weird to go from dreams with fully detailed environments, developed characters with relationships, and a backstory to waking up looking at my ceiling and remembering what is real and having to understand that all that other stuff never happened and only existed in my mind. Eventually, you get used to the disorientation, but it never stops being disorienting. It’s like when you get used to going out in the cold in a tshirt – it doesn’t change the fact that it’s still freezing.
I remember being at a university that was in a downtown area of a large city. The city reminded me of Cleveland or Pittsburgh, and some of the streets were angled weird instead of the grid I grew up with.
I was in a cafeteria that had a second level where people could eat and look down below (like Carnegie Melon) and I was on the first level. Some guy came in and shot someone famous. Everyone got down and ran. I got away from the building, but I wasn’t worried about being a target – this was obviously a hit on that one person.
I later went in because I was hungry and all the food areas were shut down. I went to join a group of people waiting to get food from the vending machine. I needed change, so I went over to a cashier who was still working, but she wasn’t allowed to sell the food. I asked for change and they looked at me like I was crazy and said, “Are you kidding me? That was a level 3 assault and you think I would be able to give you change?”
Later, I was using the restroom at “work” (in the college, but I don’t remember which department) and it looked like my parents’ bathroom. I pulled back the shower curtain and found three bound “celebrities” with their hands and feet bound and their mouths covered with duct tape. I thought they were dead. One of them opened their eyes. I thought, “I should report this…” Then, time jumped a week and the two dead celebrities were still there. My co-workers in the dream obviously had seen them and didn’t report them either. I remember thinking I first found them last Tuesday and it had been a whole week! I thought, “I have to report this, but anonymously because I don’t want to be a target.”
Later, I remember being in a pool on campus holding onto an inner tube looking into a cardboard box with a Go Pro doing a sign-off for a YouTube video. I did a couple of takes – one using my real name, another using an alias I plan to use in waking life. In waking life, I plan to not show my face, though. Soon after that, I found myself in an auditorium/stage/studio in some improv class. I was looking for a recording studio to report those dead celebrities in private. However, the class was about getting over shyness, so everyone was confused when I wouldn’t make this “important phone call” in front of them. It turned into running a parkour course and I even tried to do a cartwheel and failed.
There was a part where I was going to go back to the cafeteria building to get something and come back, but others were confused why I’d go so far. It wasn’t far at all – it was across the street. That’s how I saw/remembered the intersection of college buildings. They were partially highrises – some were repurposed buildings that were built in the 1930s.