Boats, a massive armada of every type of boat, as far as the eye can see in all directions. A mass migration of people. I get the impression that it was a seasonal thing – go to an island and harvest this one renewable resource only available there, then leave it only to return again in a year. Yet I have trouble believing that the residents of these many and varied ships were not the only remnants of humanity, a nomadic sea people.
I was part of a team who’s job it was to combat evil forces. Also, I may have been Will Smith’s son. We were on a mission to find the components/ingredients to something that would allow us to do this. We were often intercepted by our enemies. They were:
Dream involved a mad scientist. Don’t remember what he was involved with. He was almost certainly based on the scientist from King of the Zombies.
I remember going back to a creative agency I did some work for not to long ago, perhaps to visit my friend J who works there fulltime. Instead of the usual downtown office building was located in an odd basementy floor on a compound built into a swamp. I remember finding the file the agency used to ‘grade’ contractors, and that my report card was not favourable. The owner had written “said he was a great programmer, but baulked and struggled when I asked him to make a simple email form for this one page”. Of course he’s a goddamn liar. I never claimed to be a programmer of any kind.
The future was a floating theocracy. The ground below was forgotten, and all of humanity was led by televangelists on a floating continent. I watched their Christmas broadcast, which was a mix of celebrity Christmas special and official government address to the nation. Plus, like, propaganda. So these televangelists were eating Christmas dinner at a table that was obviously filmed in front of a live studio audience, and they only sat on one side, either to reference the Last Supper painting or just for the convenience of the audience being able to see everyone’s faces from a small number of video cameras.
I had a dream that I was in bed at my old house in England, and that I rolled over and looked at the floor to spot a transparent spider crawling across the floor. It had roughly the shape and the size of a bottlecap, and I was able to spot it at first as a rippling of the beige carpet beneath it. I soon noticed that there were other such spiders nearby, and that they were moving in the same direction at the same speed – spiders traveling together, something I had never seen before. This should have been worrying but mostly I just found them interesting.
I was in a basement that resembled the WWII bomb shelter of a basement we had in Germany, this ugly neon-lit white concrete cave with lumpy walls and some furniture here and there. People kept coming through and I was lying on a couch, trying to sleep. Perhaps there was a party upstairs? I get the impression now that some of them at least were older versions of kids I knew in Germany. One that I did recognize at the time was Lars. He came down all shirtless and sweaty and gross. I was curious about how his online dating experience was going and how things went with that girl he had dated, but I don’t think I asked. I think it’s possible he had a kid with him, like he was maybe dating some woman who had kids.
I remember almost nothing of this dream aside from the fact that I was walking across a wide metal bridge spanning a ravine in the middle of a rocky wilderness with some people, and my friend Daniella fell through a hole in said bridge. We rushed to the far side to help her out, and she seemed to have sprained an ankle. As the others were helping her, I found a bunch of creatures crawling across some rocks. They were about the size of two human hands, flat and dry looking. Very much like a combination of crabs and butterflies. They had no bodies, just a bit where their rumpled and leaflike ‘wing shell’ clusters met in the center. I tried twice and failed to accurately reproduce them – one image is too batlike and has a body, the other is too gross and spiderlike. The curious thing is that they did not fill me with revulsion, just curiosity.