Dreamlog: House Fire
A fragment only:
I return to my house to find it's been completely burned to the ground. So have the houses next to it; in fact, they are attached units in a block of six or more, more like dorm rooms. The whole block has burned; concrete walls remain and ashes, but nothing else.
My first thought is regret that I didn't have offsite data backups.
Dreamlog: Burning Africa
My brother and I are on the run from the Conspiracy. I have to pack up my college dorm room and disappear. I've learned too much about a dangerous technology. The military is moving in.
I have some kind of air vehicle: like a helicopter, I hover above the curve of the Earth and can look down through a transparent bubble as if I'm just sitting there. I know the craft as if it is my own. I must be hundreds of miles up, though it doesn't strike me as odd that I'm so high. I hear the military reports. A war is in progress, or is it a game?
There is a space-based bomb which is more powerful than atomic weapons. Something strange occurs. Despite vowing never to do so, I push the button to release it; just to find out what happens, or because I know it's not real? The explosive cloud rolls over the curve of Africa: not just a mushroom, but a single rolling continent-sized cloud, brown like dust, taking minutes to come over the horizon. The rumble and thunder of it comes up through the atmosphere to me, deep bass. It is the single most devastating thing I've seen. Now I really am the global terrorist they think I am.
What have I done?
But later I realise, indeed it wasn't real.
Dreamlog: Going Flatfold
A wild sprawling dream.
I am explaining Infinite Crisis and the Crisis on Infinite Earths to someone. "DC Comics had a problem in the 1980s... they had multiple versions of Superman from the 1930s, 1940s, 1950s..." Superboy-Prime becomes part of the onstage story. He's not nearly as bad as the crossovers made him out to be. There is a war across realities and dimensions. In the middle of it, I watch Youtube and GPS tracks.
The final scene: the war is over and the dimensions have been saved. A young man and his dog prepare to be warped back home. The dog has done this before; the man hasn't. The watchers open the spacetime portal: the manifold is shaped like an elongated doughnut, translucent white curves, the inner vortex 'hole' the width of a human bdoy elongated about a metre above the ground, several metres long, with the enclosing shroud three or four times its size. Riding it is like catching a wave, easy when you know how. The man is a little apprehensive. A timer is ticking, the launch window measured in seconds. Some kind of electronic apparatus keeps it open. "Go, go!" The dog goes first, catching the vortex and vanishing. The man steps forward, tilts his body forward. It tickles, the wave catches. There is a mental trick to it. "Relax, we've got you." Pop! He's through and the manifold collapses. Home sweet.
They call it "going flatfold" when the manifold goes flat; it means going home, landing, touching down, dropping out of hyperspace. Mission accomplished.
UFOs in Pennsylvania?
What is happening in Murraysville, Pennsylvania?
They don't look like planes to me - especially if you catch some of the other videos of them being single orbs of light, both stationary and pulsing, then adding new lights.
They also don't look like the classic media 'UFO' - you know, solid disc-shaped craft, what Spielberg did - but they DO look and act like some of the early actual UFO reports - the 'constellation of lights which change' configuration.
A very elaborate Youtube hoax? If it is, I'm impressed by the attention to detail. It's got my attention.
Dreamlog: Shot in the Arm
I am running down dark streets and alleys. Someone, a friend who I had trusted, pulls a gun on me and shoots. The bullet hits in my right arm. I fall. But it is a strange bullet, large and made of brass, the size of a syringe. It has wounded me only lightly. The figure tells me that the bullet is innoculated with a bacteria which will infect me and that I need to get to a hospital; the infection can be dealt with in time and will protect me from something worse. I realise a complex triple-cross is in process; factions within factions.
Dreamlog: Bending
A fun one.
Something new has happened at church. The ability to bend and shape matter as if it were fabric or clay has appeared. It surfaces in prayer meetings and can be 'caught' from people who have it. I'm fascinated by it. I can put my hands on anything and like Uri Geller, 'bend' it. Plastic or wood flows underneath our fingers as if being literally reweaved at a cellular level. It takes new forms based on our imaginations; this is a new art form, a new science. It's easy to learn how but the possibilities are endless.
I walk home by the river thinking dazedly, This changes everything.
pod bay doors open
New year, new decade, new blog name and look. Let's try starting this thing again.
Dreamlog: Dancing Pizza Boxes
A fragment from the very end of a much longer dream.
A scene from a film. A genie has made a deal with Bruce Willis to fulfill his single greatest desire. Bruce gets...
a lifetime supply of pizza.
Delivered by dancing pizza boxes, up the stairs in his apartment. Which don't show up on camera - though he tries, and ends up with a blurry snapshot of himself and an empty room.
Look, don't ask me, I don't make these things up, I just dream them.
Previously in the same dream:
I am working at or managing some kind of festival or market. I don't particularly want to do it but I've made promises. A friend of mine is very keen on a new product which will revolutionise health food: a frozen organic TV dinner.
