The Official Don't-Interpret-My-Dreams Thread
-
@Groaner said in The Official Don't-Interpret-My-Dreams Thread:
I guess it's like the Wilhelm Scream
There's a sound of a metal door/hatch with squeaky hinges opening which seems to be used just as often, but I don't know its name.
-
Was having a soft nightmare about obtaining funding for continuing running the game servers. Suddenly I was taking a U-verse Internet slow speeds call. It's surprising how much of the UI flow I remember. Sadly my credentials only partially worked, and I was in the middle of a warm transfer to an actual agent before I woke up for no reason.
I don't think I have ever had a dream about two different jobs like that before...
-
Last night, I dreamt that I went to a multi-stories (pun intended) AR RPG gaming center located in an old industrial building.
The story we've chosen was a traditional Chinese ghost story themed one suitable for 2-4 players. On the start point we're handed AR google and a jumpsuit that will allow us to interact with virtual items in the game. The story is about, we're the students of a master in rune-word fighting. His daughter had acquired some strange sickness that is thought to be cause by some curse of enemy, and we're tasked to defect the enemy and find out the cure.
During the story, we learnt that there are two different sickness that is originated from the same curse in northern and southern part of China. While the sickness in northern part of China is not curable, the sickness on southern part of China can be easily removed. This ought to be related to either distance of "something" or temperature. While we're not sure what is the actual cause of difference, there's one thing we should apparently do - relocate daughter of master to a southern city.
And then I lost in a rune fight and enters ghost mode (my brother can see and hear me, but I can no longer interact with objects in game). My brother just took a revolver pistol with 6 bullets that has rune-word inside. We entered somewhere that looks like abandoned building.
Then I heard some footsteps. When I told that to my brother he seems not able to hear it. Then I saw a glowing figure slowly walking down the stairs, but my brother still not able to see it. After the figure went down the stair, he put his index finger on his lip and said "Hey, don't ruin the gameplay". And then I was thrown out of the game (AR goggle went dark, and I'm not able to participate anymore).
When I walk out of the room, the rune fight had already started. And then I walked following exit signs on ground, and found we're just at the next room of start point of game, and there is another group of players hearing the briefings.
Overall I found the whole experience amazing. That's when I woke (3 minutes earlier than my normal wake time).
-
Dream: Lots of cute baby animals. Also, not necessarily cute parent animals. Wild animals, not pets. Baby and not baby lions and I don't remember what all. Baby and not baby skunks. Baby and not baby geese. Give both skunks and geese wide berths, because I don't really want to interact with either, but they didn't give each other a wide berth. Mamma goose decided skunks were too close to baby geese. Mamma goose behaved in the unpleasant way geese do. Skunk responded in the unpleasant way skunks do. Although I was an innocent bystander and keeping my distance from both, unfortunately, I happened to be in a direct line with mamma skunk and mamma goose and got "shot" by the skunk. Woke up.
-
Started out in space, analyzing a new type of Borg ship: the cylinder.
It suddenly shot off toward a planet and started smashing itself into it (with no damage) after the fashion of a hammer.
Observing the planet, I notice the buildings start to reassemble themselves and go down to analyze.
Apparently they're being some kind of regeneration technology, and the population is part of that too. No collective mind there, but everyone has a chip on their head that contains their personality, and the use clones to be effectively immortal.
I was walking through a store full of video ads, trailing a young boy. For some reason the ads that were face height to him were full of masturbating women.
The boy was taken and put in a restraining chair with implements for cranial surgery. They eventually implanted one of the chips into him, but it malfunctioned and instead of overriding his mind just gave him an imaginary friend.
They went off to do video game protagonist things.
-
Summary: I needed to obtain a copy of the fictional program named mood, originally written for bsd, from cwc, who somehow managed to get it do running on Windows, because apparently the latest version (from 2018) couldn't handle input with carriage returns in it.
CWC was surprisingly amenable to his/her house being entered and his computer being rooted through.
Weird dream.
-
Driving home, taking the offramp. Something caught my eye and I looked back to the motorway I'd just left. Coming up from behind me and parallel to the motorway was a C-5 Galaxy flanked by a pair of Hercules flying really slow and low. It was unsettling because the planes were cutting right across and through the final approach path to the airport.
-
@Tsaukpaetra said in The Official Don't-Interpret-My-Dreams Thread:
@Yamikuronue said in The Official Don't-Interpret-My-Dreams Thread:
@Tsaukpaetra Linkies?
The Conquering of Love
Twilight finds she and her friends are trapped in their own minds and must escape.
Replacing VR with Dream and AI with self-defense mechanism (to keep the dreamer controlled) and human with... Well, ponies.
Darn, another one on implicit hiatus, though the author said if the ever pick it up again it will be finished all at once.
-
The earlier parts are a bit blurry; there was some sort of executive trying to kickstart his criminal career by shoplifting two copies of a Jean Harlow biography, but the bit I remember starts with Batman and Robin down in the sewers standing on rusty and crumbly scaffolding looking at a badly rusted-up heavy door.
Robin is very worried about the stability of the scaffold, but Batman pounds away at the handle until he finally gets it freed and the door opened. They go in and find themselves in a well-lit office corridor. Just inside the door is a sign "LEVEL 10/14" I guess from the depth of the sewer that this was counting down from ground level.
Robin is a bit ahead and we hear his "Oh my God". (I'm really disappointed. No "Holy ...?") We come to the end and it's a big â is it still called an atrium when it has an enclosed ceiling? Very clean and I guess stylish in a 1980-90s hotel lobby sort of way: a colour scheme based around beige, tan, and light taupe; carpeting, long leather couches against the walls, an abundance of wide staircases to multiple mezzanines, plantpots but no plants yet. A broad wide reception-desk sort of thing looking out on some more seats and planters. But none of that was what Robin was looking at; he was looking at the wall behind the desk and the three-storey high Gotham City Police Department badge painted in white on the wall.
"Ah, Batman and Robin. It's you." Coming down one of the staircases is Doctor Evil (and I don't know my DC villains so I will clarify that I'm talking about the Austin Powers one). He's dressing business casual today: chinos, polo-neck, pullover, and matching jacket. Sneakers. He's carrying the sort of cardboard box you'd carry the contents of an office desk in. "As you can see I have found this place already, so you can't have it as your batcave." (he would have
, but like I said he was holding a box).Dr Evil puts the box down on the reception desk and starts lifting out bits and pieces of Mac equipment and arranging them on the desk. You could tell it was Mac because it was basically the gumdrop styling of the iMac and G3 era taken back and applied to Apple's product line pre-1997. He ducks down below the level of the desk and then a hand pops up wiggling the end of a network cable; eventually Batman gets the hint and ends up helping Dr Evil with setup.
-
Most of the dream is fuzzy, but I dreamed I was in the White House for some reason. Donald Trump and Barack Obama were both there, and they were acting more like friendly rivals to one another than bitter political enemies, and for whatever reason both of them kept trying to act like they were my friends and win my favor. I remember being extremely uncomfortable, as I didn't want to be hanging around either of them and I kept wondering why I was even there in the first place.
-
Today's dream was in some vague extrapolation of Half-Life series.
The G-Man, looking really tired, unshaven, with bags under his eyes, his usual costume replaced by something one usually wears in one's own house, was telling the player to stop fucking around with reality and about dangers lurking in things even he does not fully understand. The talk went in a kitchen belonging to a dark underground facility, with an unmarked bottle of something potentially alcoholic on the table.
Drinking with G-Man during the small hours of the night definitely counts as fucking around with things I don't understand, that's for sure.
-
The first one was bizarre and fragmented. I can only recall a fraction of it:
Uh, something something standing guard outside the women's toilets at a restaurant to look like I care, but someone gets in anyway, or at least comes out.
Riding down an escalator, there's a huge fur coat draped across the railing. I pick it up and I'm wondering what to do with it. At the bottom someone stepping off is set upon by a swarm of flecks of darkness and I think "ah, there's a place to dump this coat" and I drop it into the swarm. The swarm clears and there's just a crater in the floor. Someone else looks in and says "that's why Jewish people call death 'The Dickens'."
Wherever that was going, the scene instead changes to outside, and I get a bird's/drone's-eye view of a sports field with a chainlink design drawn over its entire length. Coming down to ground level I learn it's an art project: the artist's entire genome using glass beads for atoms; the design seen earlier being the guide lines. They need a lot of volunteers for this and now I'm one. But first a brief anthropological lecture from a team leader on why groups of people sing when they're doing manual labour which sounded like off-the-cuff wild-ass guessing even at the time. Something about maintaining a productive work rhythm.
We get to meet artist herself. She's wearing a narrow white Victorian ball gown and bodypaint: basically dusky greyish-pink; a large eye drawn on her throat; black veins reaching from it and branching up and down over her face and chest.
Somehow this project has caused Minnie Mouse to break up with Mickey (he's distraught) and shack up with her newly-discovered soulmate Pearl, while Daisy Duck is off with Gladstone Gander (with Donald's full blessing).
Sheesh. Anyway, out of bed and back. Fortunately, a palate cleanser.
Me, a friend of mine who was a total stranger, a nineteen-year-old who's a total Sam Neill fangirl, and Sam Neill himself via FaceTime. The four of us sitting on a clifftop looking out to sea and watching the sunrise (fangirl holding up the phone).
-
Was at this girl's house. Underage, very shy. Father (cop) hated me. I came to install a new security door. A few hours of nothing happened. I came in, father yelled at me. I gave a beautiful speech about helping the girl grow up or someshit. Gave the father a DVD of bodycam footage.
It was annoying. Never even really saw the girl...
-
This was a weird one.
I decided to spy on an Antifa meeting for some reason. So I sat at this table in the middle of it and started taking notes. With a really bad cross between a crayon and chalk for some reason. I think my reasoning was they'd see what I was doing if I was using a pen and attack me. Not far into the meeting they passed around a sign-in sheet. I was stupid and signed in with almost my real name, along the lines of P Tear Griffin or J
immohnny Carter.Anyway the meeting goes on and they're talking about efforts to secretly brainwash cops onto their side. Some other crazy stuff I sadly don't remember. Then there was a story about a guy who was punched to death for kissing random black people on a dangerous street. The story went on that the landlord made him do it, something along the lines of "the more money I need, the more _____s you kiss." I don't know what they were going to do about it.
So then I went to the restroom, which was right next to the tables everyone was sitting at, like the meeting was in the restroom. The stalls had doors but there was no door between the stall area and where everyone was sitting. This'll be important in a minute. They were unisex bathrooms so there was a shower running over the toilet. Yeah, I didn't get it either. I peed as fast as I could not to get soaked. Then I went back to the meeting.
About a minute later, there's a ton of pee, and cigarette stubs for some reason, running out of the stall area and under this girl's chair. She's visibly upset, like turned ghost white and shaking. So I was like "I was just in there, something must be wrong with the drains" and got a mop. There was pee all over the place except the stall I was just in. I tried to move it towards the drain in the floor in front of the stalls. That's when I saw it was stuffed with macaroni and cheese.
Who the hell dumps macaroni and cheese into a bathroom floor drain? Then I woke up.
-
@Tsaukpaetra is there ever a time you don't want vulvas?
When I dream of experiencing male pregnancy they come in handy...
-
Last night, I dreamt that I was visiting my grandmother's home. However instead of going to her home, I go to an apartment located at the side of a window of backstairs of that building (I was always wondering what the other side of that window looks like when I was a child, since that window is always dark no matter it's morning or night), and found my aunt and her family leaves in there.
Shortly after I entered that apartment, my niece said she want to have some snacks, and therefore they all headed to the supermarket, leaving only me there. Then I looked at "that window". It's crystal clear and I can see directly at the stairs.
There was no one going up or down the stairs. Then I was thinking that anyone walk past the window can see me, so I hided at the side of a cupboard that blocks the view from that angle, and stayed there throughout the dream. Also, I didn't see my grandmother in the whole dream.
Then the alarm clock rings and I woke up.
-
I dreamed I introduced my mother to TDWTF. And she immediately joined the garage. The login process was obtuse, but I don't remember the details.
-
I was at a gathering of many people, outdoors, I think, seated on folding chairs, somewhat distanced but less than 6ft/2m, or so it seemed to me. Some guy was addressing the group. Apparently we were there to have our memories edited. All knowledge of George III (and, I think, another person never identified by name) was to be removed from human memory, possibly by his own request. (How he could request to be forgotten when he's been dead for 200 years â this year, in fact, although I didn't know that until I looked it up just now â puzzled me, even in the dream.) I objected to having my memories erased, but even more, I objected to an important historical figure being cancelled, even if it was at his own request. I started punching the guy and beat him to death with my fists. Then I woke up. There might have been a little more to it, but if so, I don't remember anything else.
-
I was walking through some old, run-down house that looked like it had been abandoned in a hurry; the bedrooms were still full of personal possessions that anyone would have wanted to take with them, including small amounts of cash. The stuff in each bedroom tended to be strongly associated with a single color, a different one for each inhabitant.
I was talking with a woman who seemed rather bitter about the whole thing; she said that she had kept up her end of the deal, researching new and stronger ways to fight, but the Rangers had abandoned their end of the bargain and were refusing to come back now that they were needed again, or in some cases had simply gone dark and were nowhere to be found. She was worried that with evil on the rise again, we were going to be completely unprotected. But I woke up soon after this, before the story could progress to anything more interesting...
-
Well here was an interesting one, what with my latest scheme and all...
I had to go back to school to get a diploma with my new name. There was a test that I had to take with the other kindergartners. The school was sort of boomerang shaped but somehow I ended up a little lost so I was running a little late. Just a couple of minutes, no big deal, I'll catch up quickly, right? I make it into the classroom, pick up a copy of the test, sit down in the back, and start trying to follow along with the teacher who's reading the questions out loud. But she's going really fast and they're halfway through the test already. She walks over, looks down at me, clearly recognizes me from 30+ years ago, and is whispering hints to the answers. But the text is hyper small, and possibly has everything printed in four languages. so I can only scan for the words she's saying so quickly and not finding them is clearly making her exasperated. All I could do was fill in circles practically at random, hand it back to her with an embarrassed look on my face, and pray for a passing grade.
-
A neighbourhood on the move. The houses had decided among themselves to up stakes and literally walk off. A few had chosen to stay behind, but the vast majority were trekking across the fields on foot, raggedly followed by the bemused erstwhile residents. At least the weather was nice.
-
I dreamed that my wife had superpowers, but no matter what she did, how hard she tried, there were always some people she couldn't help. I was trying to comfort her and persuade her that it wasn't her fault and that it wouldn't help anyone if she literally worked herself to death.
-
My son and I were living in someone else's house â renting a room, or something â the details and reason for this were not explained in the dream. My ex-wife walked into the house and tried to walk out with my printer. I stopped her; I don't remember exactly what I said or did, but she put the printer down on a table (not where it was originally) and left. My son was upset because he needs the printer to print out his school work (which he has to scan/photograph (on a pseudo-wooden desk) to submit for grading, because remote classes) and insists I tell her she can't have it. (The dream has a few bits of RL seeping into it; this is one of them. He has to get his assignment at the start of class and email me a PDF (because his computer refuses to install the right drivers to talk to the printer, or something like that); I print it and hand him the sheets of paper.)
It was about this time of year â 2â3 months before Christmas â and there was a sort of a Christmas-themed party at the house. This was a little odd, but eventually it became clear that the people were there to start making Christmas decorations in preparation for Christmas, possibly for some organized event. That was never quite clear, but it doesn't really matter, because it doesn't have any connection to the other events of the dream, except that it was occurring at the same time and place.
My ex-wife returned. I told her she couldn't take the printer because the property settlement gave each of us ownership of whatever personal property we had in our possession at the time the divorce became final (which actually isn't relevant; the printer in question is one she gave me when she and her husband were packing to move to KS, because they didn't want to take it with them, but now apparently she wants it for some reason). I say she can't have it without a court order. She pulls out a piece of paper she says is a court order; I never get a chance to read it, so I don't know if it really is. She is accompanied by a very smarmy young man in a business suit who says he is her lawyer. Even in the dream, I'm thinking, "WTF? The lawyer and the court order cost you way more than just buying a new printer. What's so special about this one?" The lawyer, being a lawyer, is an obnoxious jerk, and I commit battery, and probably assault, shoving him against a wall with my forearm across his chest/throat. I don't remember what I said to him, but probably something threatening. I may have started this before he identified himself as my ex-wife's lawyer, but in any case, this is when I woke up. I never got around to telling her my son needs it for school.
-
Dreamt I was playing the star Trek game and getting raided. Was repairing base, but they had a dozen players sending a stream of ships at me. Mildly horrifying.
-
So apparently in the dream I had decided to go back to college, including living in the dorms. I was feeling really helpless with basically just a bedroom to live in. My roommate suggests we order a pizza from this new place on campus. They're supposed to have really good deep dish pizza. We go there and the two girls running the place decided they were only going to make 1/3 of the pizza. I asked when the rest of it would be done. They said two weeks. I asked why and they told me in a condescending tone that they were very busy and in demand but none of the ovens were running and they were just standing around. My roommate walked outside and I went over to the other side of the counter to think about it. We eventually went back over to the counter and then a guy who looked to be in his late 40s entered the shop. He apparently knew my roommate, offered him some pizza at his house, and the both of them walked out without saying a word to me. I was going to drive to the grocery store for a frozen pizza but realized I didn't have an oven in the dorm so I went to the pizza place I used to order from when I really was in college.
-
My wife and I were going out to dinner. It was a new place, a really fancy Italian restaurant we had never been to before. We got seated, but not at our own table; it was a large table with a few other couples already there.
They gave us these tiny menus, and as we were looking them over, trying to figure out what actual food was available to order, two waiters came out, carrying an enormous plate, oval shaped and probably at least five feet long, and set it down on the table in front of me. Except it wasn't really in front of me; it was for the couple seated to the right of me and it was just that big that it stuck out in front of me as well. It was full of some sort of Italian pasta paella, which was exactly as weird as it sounds.
And then my wife IRL rolled over in her sleep and it woke me up.
-
All I remember was that my dreams last night involved:
- driving a big pickup truck somewhere in Utah (at least notionally). Except I was in the right-side seat with the controls, but the dashboard was on the left. It also had no guts.
- going to a church(?) meeting somewhere along the way.
- the phrase "suddenly PHB!"
- in an earlier dream, assembling miniatures (or some other real-life object) by writing jenkins(?) build jobs and dockerfiles.
-
A couple of nights ago:
I was going dancing with 3 (I think) other people â my ex-wife, her father and I'm not quite sure who the fourth was, because he/she played almost no part in the dream except for being there, but I think it was one of my kids. I have no idea where we were going dancing (we never did actually dance, but that was the purpose for getting together), but it was someplace not local to any of us, because we were all staying in a Motel 6 together. But it was entirely unlike any Motel 6, anywhere, ever. The room all 4 of were in was a suite, with a spiral staircase to additional bedrooms opening from a loft overlooking the main floor of the suite. All of the plot â such as it is â of the dream takes place in the motel room.
For some reason, I was the last of the family to arrive at the motel. Everyone else had already settled into their accommodations, and I think there was some minor dispute as to where I was to sleep, but this was only a minor part of the dream.
Before proceeding further with the dream, itself, I should explain â because it's very relevant to the conversation that forms almost the entire plot of the dream â that in ballroom dancing, the typical dancing position is face-to-face with your partner, except offset, so that both are looking (and breathing) over the partner's left shoulder. (The offset is how you avoid stepping on your partner's feet; your feet pass between each other, rather than directly in line.) There are some dance steps in which you may change position, so you my be looking over your partner's right shoulder instead of left, or facing in the same direction, or whatever, but the offset-to-the-left is by far the most common position, and any sequence starts and ends there.
Back to the dream. The dance venue to which we were going required dancers to wear masks. Ok. It also prohibited any dance steps in which the dancers were, however briefly, directly face-to-face. Face-to-face over the shoulder was fine, but directly face-to-face, even for a fraction of a second while changing from one allowed dance position to another, was forbidden on penalty of ejection from the venue. I'm not sure how I became aware of this restriction, but apparently I was not aware of it before arriving at the motel.
Most of the (rather short) dream consisted of me ranting angrily about how stupid this rule was. Not only did it eliminate almost everything interesting you can do while dancing (in public, anyway
), so that it wasn't worth dancing at all with this restriction, but it was ridiculously ineffective in preventing the spread of viruses.
-
Last night I dreamt that there is a "Hong Kong Culinary Examination Centre" where restaurant/hotel owners can hold their skill test for hires here, in MasterChef style.
They can select whether the tests will be held private or public. If the tests will be held privately, the owner will bear all costs including food and judges here. However if the test is set to be public, the owner only need to pay minimal charge but the tests will be live-streamed to YouTube.
The owner can choose appoint whatever number of judges from their side, and the rest will be provided by the center to fill up to 3 judges. The judges are explicitly told to show no mercy to fundamentals like "the food is awful" or "the food is RAW". Even if in standard round there's only one person to be eliminated, they will remove anyone who done fundamental mistakes.
There are different levels of tests that can be offered. Obviously the skill required for entry level cook and "executive chef" would be different. For entry levels the candidates will be tests for their skill to use knifes, and whether they can follow given receipts to cook selected dishes, while the higher level ones would tell candidates to design a full course menu on given theme.
The winner of contest not only can gain offer for the position they apply for, they can optionally choose whether to use branding iron to brand "Survivor of Hong Kong Culinary Examination (<date>)" on their arm, just like what monk at Shaolin Monastery did when they pass the "graduation examination" in order to acquire right to be able to leave the temple at their will. (After they passed the "graduation examination", the monk would have to hold a very hot pot with his arms, causing the relief of pot (dragon and tiger) be branded on his arms on his way to carry the pot back to entrance of testing area.)
The remarks of individual test sessions will be uploaded to the test center's homepage if the test is public so some cooks would choose to apply for job this way and use the online reference in similar way as LinkedIn.
That's when I found that I've forgotten to code the interface to enter test result, but a test is already in progress. I'm at the test scene because was invited by test center owner after the project is done, and have to find excuse to sneak back to home to complete that part without alarming anyone.
That's when I go panic and woke up.
-
I was out hiking with my family. We were up on the fells, just coming up to a saddle between two peaks which we were going to cross, when a fighter jet zoomed over our heads.
That isn't so incongruous as you might think - we usually go hiking in the Lake District, where military jets regularly practice low-level flying around terrain. There you'll be, walking through quiet countryside, when suddenly the sky is split in two by the roar or a supersonic or near-sonic engine - it's hard to follow the actual jets as they pass between the mountains, because they're always much further ahead than the sound, by the time you hear it.
But as a rule they don't fly a dozen feet over the heads of hikers. Dream logic, however...
I then noticed that it was extremely windy. In fact, the wind rushing through the pass and down the slope (as winds do in terrain like this - but not commonly with this strength) was so strong that it not only swept my feet out from under me but then held me off the ground. I realised that this was the wake of the jet engine, combined with the terrain.
At this point, real physics gave up and went to sit in the corner while dream logic had a field day, as I was lifted higher and higher by the wind, which was not abating even though the jet was well past. Not stupendously high, but tens of feet - high enough that falling would be far from pleasant. But I knew what to do! I seemed to be behaving like a light aircraft, and I know that a fixed-wing aircraft can rapidly lose height by a manoeuvre called a side-slip. This is where the pilot banks hard to one side using the wing control surfaces, while putting the rudder full to the other side. This causes the plane to keep facing straight ahead, but slew diagonally down through the air.
So I spread-eagled my arms and legs, tilted my arms - representing wings - to one side, and tilted my legs to the other (I'm not in hindsight sure that would work in place of the rudder, but real physics was still sulking) and smoothly soared down at a diagonal to land gracefully on my feet.
The remainder of the dream was me trying to describe write down the experience to friends.
-
The US Secret Services knocked on my door.
I rightfully told them they don't have any kind of jurisdiction here, but they were polite so I invited them in.
I asked how I could help them and they explained some tweets from the (still) current POTUS had been censored by Twitter, but before they were deleted a team of redneck hackers had succesfully made a backup on a remote computer, and now the FBI had tracked them to my computer.
I insisted they had no jurisdiction over me, and no way would they take my computer from me, but since they were being polite and not at all pushy I would offer my help, as long as I was the one who sat at the keyboard. I couldn't care less about the tweets, but I knew they were just doing their jobs so I'd cooperate.
The details, if there were any to begin with, of what I've done while sitting at the computer are hazy, but the end of the story is that they had stored the tweets in my temp directory, which I happened to have deleted the two days prior. And apparently undeleting files was beyond the capabilities of us all combined, so the tweets were forever lost.
They shrugged and left. They weren't that worried about the tweets either.
I did get to bang the tattooed chick from Blindspot, which where I realized this was a dream. Because she wouldn't have been my first pick, see.
-
@Zecc said in The Official Don't-Interpret-My-Dreams Thread:
Because she wouldn't have been my first pick
Do you have a nerd boner for Patterson then?
-
@Luhmann That and the other one whose name I forgot. IMDB says Zapata.
I stopped watching. I couldn't get past the spastic camerawork and ADHD editing.
-
Both good choices, the story got down the stinker once the origins arc began the wrap up.
-
For some reason I was returning to secondary school, in the 11th grade. I was really worried how I'll do, because I have forgotten everything - but especially math - that was taught in the 10th grade (which is entirely true, of course). Someone suggested that evening classes would be better for me, but I had chosen regular so that the government gets to pay for it (this is not true - all public secondary over here is free; that said, I don't know about the second time).
But there's IT angle, too. There were no ordinary classrooms, just people sitting in front of computers. The computers were all small CRT monitors, with image flickering as if I was looking at them through a camera. Some of them were also AIOs, sort of like original iMac, but not kitschy, just straight angles and different shades of yellowing plastic. And they ran some weird mix of Windows XP with Luna, and, of course, IE6. Which would largely be accurate if it actually was back when I was in the 11th grade, but I think the idea was that I was getting back into it after many, many years. I didn't want to provide my e-mail address, because of all the known security risks, but it turned out I didn't have to. All classwork would be done through some portal that looked like MSDN back then and I goofed off the entire duration of the first class, because I didn't have the login, and even if I had had, I couldn't type anything. I tried (typing with one finger, too), but letters just didn't appear.
It was either before that or after that was in the school building, and somebody had hacked the escalators to move three times the normal speed.
-
I was at my elementary school playground/field, except there was a man-made hill of dirt near the exit gate. There was some kind of kid battle going on, myself and Blakeyrat were trying to get over the hill for some reason. Horrible physics and improbable events were abound. Eventually we managed to plant the eggs and escaped on a motorbike down the hill.
-
Started in the snow just outside the gates of a walled city. Yeah, fantasy setting. Definite Pullman influence because of the dozens of warmly-wrapped people present, every one of them each had their own animal familiar.
Which was appropriate. There was vigorous trading going on in fantasy novels. The air was thick with authors' names. I recognised quite a lot of them even if I haven't read anything of their work, and some of them were more SF authors who maybe dabbled in fantasy (I overheard two people talking about "Cubrin", and when I saw their books figured they'd actually said something like "queue Brin"). People were pulling out crates stuffed with books and handing bundles of them back and forth to each other. But even though the trading was vigorous, and urgent, no voices were being raised. It was urgent, but businesslike, almost threatened. No money was changing hands.
I manoeuvred around the crates and carts and traders to get to the gates, where there was some exchanging of novels for entry, but I was able to go in without any sort of toll. Inside, much the same thing was going on. Sheltered by the walls, there wasn't much snow any more, what there was got well and truly trampled into the dirt. This time, though, instead of novels, video was being exchanged. Not video media, mind; actual blocks of moving picture. The genre was still fantasy. There was a strong sense of a massive undertaking to get as much converted from print to video as possible before â well, I never did find out what the threat everyone was fearing actually was.
-
There was a press conference. Some important looking guy (politician? eccentric millionaire?) was announcing a new charity project: Quantum Particles for The Poor.
These were going to be decent quality quantum particles, by the way. Not the sort of second-hand quantum particles you'd find discarded on a sidewalk or behind a gas station.
-
I'm not even going to try and relate last night's discombobulated mess of involuntary transformation, escape room, gender swapping, mercy fucking, absolutely insane shenanigans I dreamt...
The removable vagina was kinda interesting though.
-
@Tsaukpaetra said in The Official Don't-Interpret-My-Dreams Thread:
I'm not even going to try and relate last night's discombobulated mess of involuntary transformation, escape room, gender swapping, mercy fucking, absolutely insane shenanigans I dreamt...
The removable vagina was kinda interesting though.Oh you poor boy!
Long ago, a young colleague of mine, told me a funnier dream:
He was sitting at his computer at home. Doing some programming, creating many kinds of objects.
Several girls entered his room. Looked onto his computer, took the objects from there, and introduced them into their ...The morale of the story: your objects should better not implement the
IDildointerface.
-
@BernieTheBernie said in The Official Don't-Interpret-My-Dreams Thread:
The morale of the story: your objects should better not implement the
IDildointerface.What are you saying? That's the base class everything inherits! If it's not, it is virtually impossible in the world! đ
-
Involved in some kind of soccer-like game (basically soccer/football, but use of hands not forbidden; a preferred strategy for scoring a goal was a cross-field kick at the goal line, and a player in front of the goal would reach out and punch the ball to deflect it into the net). One player went into a "berserker" mode where he did unreasonable, superhero stuff. There was a price to pay, of being unable to function at all for a few days after it wore off, but it was worth it at the time, I guess.
There was more to the game than just the game itself. It was to resolve the outcome of some major event, like an election, or something. I'm not sure what the event was, whether I didn't know in the dream, or have just forgotten that detail, but it was IMPORTANT!
For some reason, there was a rematch. The second time, our entire team focused, and jumped up and down, and screamed, and went into berserker mode.
-
I was a stagehand in a TV studio recording a game show. One of the contestants, who was on the sheet as "Gwen ap Gewan" but I don't think that was his real name â what sort of name is "Gewan"? â was missing and I eventually found him sitting outside having a smoke. Turned out he simply wasn't interested in competing any more. He had nothing against the game but he was dropping out anyway. He wasn't coming back in. I went to tell the producer this and the dream ended with the host going out and giving Gwen a cup of tea, a box set of the show, and an order to "get out of my sight".
There was another that I only later realised was a Doctor Who / Blake's 7 crossover; it included Avon confronting the Daleks and doing the Doctor's job of explaining their plan to them. Oh, I wish I could remember what exactly he said.
-
I was out on a farm helping harvest this crop that produced tall grass that looked like noodles. Along come these busses full of kids stuck listening to their tablets that look like Nintendo switches. The adults made a lot of ruckus but stayed on their property, kids however were silent.
Come end of day things quieted down, head boss woman left and only a few adults remained, kids still glued to their tablets.
End of day and I'm curious what they're here for. Go down, kids aren't very talkative until I show them the not-noodle and one of the kids gasps in horror. Maybe not my fault though, his tablet has an error message on it. I get an adult and he's confused who I am or that anyone else is here. I tell him with all the racket they made of course I heard them.
Then all the tablets start showing offline errors and the kids start coming alive, like they were hypnotized before, and many start screaming.
It occurs to me these kids were sent here to die, and something messed with the devices that kept them docile and unresponsive.
I forcibly woke up.
-
I was watching a live-action adaptation of Order of the Stick. Elan had been captured by his father and was being forced into an arranged marriage for some political reason. It was time for the pre-wedding festivities to begin. The Order had some sort of plan to stop things, but it wasn't ready yet. His father, being the ridiculously genre-savvy villain that he is, figured something was up and just wanted to get everything resolved as quickly as possible, but Elan managed to stall him by saying that he wanted to have a performance of a specific (very long and complicated) symphony as part of the celebration. This left his father steaming because apparently Elan had the right to make that request, and he understood exactly what his son was doing there, but he had to go along with it. I saw this and I was like, "yeah, when the pressure's on, Elan tends to be smarter than he seems most of the time..."
-
The last scene had me in an apartment bathroom mirror, where I saw my skin of my neck undulate without my control and outside the parameters of muscle movement. Then it started moving location and after a sequence of events it was extracted, I it was a Yeerk that somehow failed to properly enter the cranium!
-
It started out with a failed transfer of an SCP. She was a little girl made of bees. Took a break from trying to recapture at a sandwich shop. Stupid place had three different soda fountains, one of which dispensed semen soda. Only found out it was real semen because the bee girl came in and tried stealing it. Bad stuff happened and I had to use a neuralizer to stop the shop owner from fighting. The bee girl came quietly once I made her a semen soda float. I had to end the dream there.
-
Don't recall what I was doing there, but:
There was an enormous silvery ball plonked down in the middle of the city. Like, several blocks across. And around the equator was some sort of walkway. I was on this walkway.
It was supposed to be alien but it looked more like the sort of skybridge you'd find over a road at a shopping mall or an airport; not even being oval in cross-section changed that. White steel tubes welded together at angles to make the structure, glass filling in the gaps. The floor was laid with that plastic non-slip carpeting that would be called artificial grass if it were green instead of pepper-and-salt.
But there were occasionally couches. Big pink overstuffed ones with a floral motif.
Next to the couches were vending machines and "You Are Here" directory maps.
I looked at one of those maps and now it was a game. It was a roguelike, and had scripting so you could tell the PC to "collect all the red armour in the chamber and pile it in the most defensible location before opening the far door."
-
Ugh, that was an ugly heated discussion between myself and mother about my sisters 2 year-old daughter and falling off the couch , and the difference between nurturing, caring, protecting, teaching, allowing freedom and discovery, safety, and responsibility.
Yay starting the day in a bad mood...
-
I was back in high school, and it was almost graduation time. One of my classmates was Travis Willingham. He invited me over to a party at his place. There were a bunch of people there (including Laura Bailey, who Travis may or may not have been dating; don't remember clearly) and Travis kept trying to talk with me about teaming up together after graduation to make money in the stock market, but I was just trying to enjoy the party.
Then things shifted and I was at college, but it was something like 3 AM and I was dead on my feet, just trying to find my way home so I could sleep, but first I had to find a taxi (what bus line was going to be running at that hour?) because "home" was in the next town over. Then I woke up.
