(no subject)
As usual several segments.
At one point in the dream[s] I was driving a car through someone's yard to pick up some ducks that someone else in the car needed?
Most memorable, I was in a lab environment, and they were discussing blood diffusion and saline absorption on an airplane -- later I would learn I was actually ON an airplane. But I guess the gist was that due to some procedure they were running on board, on average 1 window [you know like, those little windows in the window seat on the plane] would fog up with the saline/blood-diffusion and appear red, it was very weird. So anyway I was on the flight, and we were passing over the Australasia region, flying very low. I saw an island, very flat, with perhaps 8-10 buildings on it, all of them architectural masterworks. Another island had more, and a massive cathedral and a reworking of 'Stonehenge' -- the islands were one of the more impressive things I've ever seen. Anyway, the flight continued as we flew lower INTO the corridors of a massively populated [supposedly] city, much like a sci-fi-romanticized Tokyo. There were deep venetian canals, but no one on the streets.
The plane descended, sideways, eventually entering the water -- and beneath the surface of the water. Outside of the plane thousands of bodies were visible -- and the people were not dead. It was very dawn-of-the-dead/28-days-later-esque. I opened the sealed plane door -- although no water came in, several deadish folks attempted to, with no success. As it would turn out, they weren't really dead/zombie/whatever. Forthcoming explanation.
So the aircraft, displaying impossible maneuverability, continued to progress through this particular canal until coming to a halt -- some of us disembarked and made our way through a corridor and eventually to a corner. Somehow I became aware of soldiers with weapons around the corner, but there was nowhere else for us to go. I charged around the corner, somehow wasn't shot, made it through the doorway onto what appeared a platform very reminiscent of a helicopter landing pad. There was a figure standing there, the boss-type individual commanding these soldiers and aparently coordinating whatever nefariousness was taking place with all those walking spaceheads.
He made some gesture so as to harm me in some way, I'm sure, but I was unphased. I picked up some manner of weapon off of the ground -- it was a heavy gun-like construct that was designed to shoot something resembling water and was apparently capable of harming this fellow. When I tried to shoot him with it, however, the projectile flow quickly ebbed and died. He laughed as though victory was his -- until I struck him across the head with the weapon anyway. A physical struggle ensued, and we ended up face to face, inches away, and I started to remember things. I started to realize what he had done to confuse everyone and fuck everything up.
I told him I knew what he'd done;
Basically it worked out like this. Everyone knows a lot of people -- people you've met, friends of friends, acquaintances. Then there are family members, close friends, people you know very well and around whom most of your memories are built. If you think of it like a spiderweb network, the larger thicker strands being the more important and pivotal memories/memory makers [aforementioned family/friends]. Lesser friends, friends of friends, etc, make up thinner and thinner strands, so to speak -- supporting the whole of the memory but much less secure and easier to make or break.
What he'd done was to start out degrading the very basic memories -- someone you glimpsed at the grocery store once, classmates from kindergarten. Once these had eroded, it put more pressure on the major memories and he worked up from there, grinding down until eventually the bedrock of all of these people's identities and memories had been ruined.
The process was not irresistable or irreversible, however -- I for one was retaining and rediscovering my memories. As we stood face to face, his visage began to change -- faint neon green grid lines were visible across his features and his eyes were glowing fires of the same hue [think satan meets an Xbox advertisement (assuming you don't believe they're both one and the same already)].
At this point I woke up, and proceeded to go to the bathroom, sit on the toilet lid and try to figure out what the fuck was going on. I told my roommates about the dream in great depth, sitting in the much larger bathroom with exposed board and siding [being that it was in the midst of construction].
If something sounds strange about this picture, it's because I have only one roommate, none of our bathrooms are under construction, and I didn't actually do any of that.
Then I woke up, checked my watch, put pants on, and walked out into the living room, where Donovan was already awake.
At one point in the dream[s] I was driving a car through someone's yard to pick up some ducks that someone else in the car needed?
Most memorable, I was in a lab environment, and they were discussing blood diffusion and saline absorption on an airplane -- later I would learn I was actually ON an airplane. But I guess the gist was that due to some procedure they were running on board, on average 1 window [you know like, those little windows in the window seat on the plane] would fog up with the saline/blood-diffusion and appear red, it was very weird. So anyway I was on the flight, and we were passing over the Australasia region, flying very low. I saw an island, very flat, with perhaps 8-10 buildings on it, all of them architectural masterworks. Another island had more, and a massive cathedral and a reworking of 'Stonehenge' -- the islands were one of the more impressive things I've ever seen. Anyway, the flight continued as we flew lower INTO the corridors of a massively populated [supposedly] city, much like a sci-fi-romanticized Tokyo. There were deep venetian canals, but no one on the streets.
The plane descended, sideways, eventually entering the water -- and beneath the surface of the water. Outside of the plane thousands of bodies were visible -- and the people were not dead. It was very dawn-of-the-dead/28-days-later-esque. I opened the sealed plane door -- although no water came in, several deadish folks attempted to, with no success. As it would turn out, they weren't really dead/zombie/whatever. Forthcoming explanation.
So the aircraft, displaying impossible maneuverability, continued to progress through this particular canal until coming to a halt -- some of us disembarked and made our way through a corridor and eventually to a corner. Somehow I became aware of soldiers with weapons around the corner, but there was nowhere else for us to go. I charged around the corner, somehow wasn't shot, made it through the doorway onto what appeared a platform very reminiscent of a helicopter landing pad. There was a figure standing there, the boss-type individual commanding these soldiers and aparently coordinating whatever nefariousness was taking place with all those walking spaceheads.
He made some gesture so as to harm me in some way, I'm sure, but I was unphased. I picked up some manner of weapon off of the ground -- it was a heavy gun-like construct that was designed to shoot something resembling water and was apparently capable of harming this fellow. When I tried to shoot him with it, however, the projectile flow quickly ebbed and died. He laughed as though victory was his -- until I struck him across the head with the weapon anyway. A physical struggle ensued, and we ended up face to face, inches away, and I started to remember things. I started to realize what he had done to confuse everyone and fuck everything up.
I told him I knew what he'd done;
Basically it worked out like this. Everyone knows a lot of people -- people you've met, friends of friends, acquaintances. Then there are family members, close friends, people you know very well and around whom most of your memories are built. If you think of it like a spiderweb network, the larger thicker strands being the more important and pivotal memories/memory makers [aforementioned family/friends]. Lesser friends, friends of friends, etc, make up thinner and thinner strands, so to speak -- supporting the whole of the memory but much less secure and easier to make or break.
What he'd done was to start out degrading the very basic memories -- someone you glimpsed at the grocery store once, classmates from kindergarten. Once these had eroded, it put more pressure on the major memories and he worked up from there, grinding down until eventually the bedrock of all of these people's identities and memories had been ruined.
The process was not irresistable or irreversible, however -- I for one was retaining and rediscovering my memories. As we stood face to face, his visage began to change -- faint neon green grid lines were visible across his features and his eyes were glowing fires of the same hue [think satan meets an Xbox advertisement (assuming you don't believe they're both one and the same already)].
At this point I woke up, and proceeded to go to the bathroom, sit on the toilet lid and try to figure out what the fuck was going on. I told my roommates about the dream in great depth, sitting in the much larger bathroom with exposed board and siding [being that it was in the midst of construction].
If something sounds strange about this picture, it's because I have only one roommate, none of our bathrooms are under construction, and I didn't actually do any of that.
Then I woke up, checked my watch, put pants on, and walked out into the living room, where Donovan was already awake.