The zombie apocalypse was in full swing. I was a character in a sitcom and the rest of the cast of characters and I were coworkers trying to escape our workplace, which was some sort of walled compound filled with construction equipment, trucks and things, and some small storage silos. We wanted to make it from one end of the compound to the other, into a fenced in area, and up a tall tower of some kind.
One of our number, who slightly resembled a more ethnic version of Carla from Cheers, became zombified, but oddly did not behave fully zombie-like. She stumbled around as if drunk, but held beers or something in her hands and seemed to occasionally try to drink them. This confused the other zombies who would move towards her as if to attack and then lose interest when they got closer. She herself seemed to have little interest in eating us. Continue reading
I had a dream where there was something in our culture existed that everyone else loved but I hated. It was a combination of World of Warcraft, Game of Thrones and Settles of Catan – some sort of fantasy thing that at any given time seemed to be a different kind of media. I remember I hated it so intensely that it made me perpetually angry. Everything that reminded me of it sent me into a miserable rage. I wanted so much to destroy it, to diminish it in people’s eyes, because it made me an outcast in a way that I could not comprehend. Continue reading
I had a dream that The Doctor (of Doctor Who) had, at some point in the sixties, worked at the BBC and created the very show which we know him for.
Why he had done this is unclear, but being part of the public consciousness was apparently wearing down on him and he regretted this decision. He was still nominally involved in the show’s production as an uncredited executive producer or consultant, and he was somewhat embarrassed to give me a tour of a very library-like production house for the show, as if the whole thing reflected a time of his life that he felt distanced from.
The production house was also either a place for pregnant cats, or a place to bring cats so they could be impregnated. I was nervous and excited about this. Kittens were on the way and I was at ground zero.
I could fly. This is one of the few flight dreams that was straight up awesome through and through. I had a big, detailed city to fly through. It wasn’t the vague type of city that sometimes appears in my dreams, without any defining or memorable features. It also didn’t suffer from scale issues that sometimes crop up in dreams where I navigate large areas. I remember flying between high-rise buildings, seeing sunrise over the skyline, spotting graffiti, and generally enjoying my soaring adventures through a varied and interesting cityscape.
It wasn’t all sunshine and roses though. In this dream, my estranged friend/former roommate MH was trying to kill me. It was odd. He didn’t seem angry or hateful of me. He just thought I sucked and thought I should be destroyed. But he wasn’t particularly diligent about it either – he was content to let me float around this building he and his friends (and possibly his bandmates) were partying on the top floors of and get made fun of by he and they. They would say all kinds of things, like that I was shit and couldn’t do anything and no girl would ever love me and soforth. This might sound like it’s the dream of someone with low self esteem, but honestly while they were saying this stuff I kept thinking “well, that’s demonstrably untrue, so clearly these friends of his are dumb and have dumb opinions“.
To be honest I have no idea how he actually tried to kill me. I assume remotely through poison, but I don’t really know. His reasons are mysterious but I suspected they were related to his political philosophies and the fact that I had powers. (Maybe they were bad for the environment?) I felt safe enough hovering nearby and trying to defend myself somewhat and trying to convince him that I was alright (it bothered me that he had an opinion of me that apparently required him to try to kill me). MH was kinda a jerk, but not a mean-spirited one, so this whole thing seemed a little odd. A while back when I seriously pissed him off and hurt his feelings real bad, he never retaliated by being a dick or anything. So it was weird.
This part is insane and difficult for me to wrap my waking mind around: At one point I tried to convince him that I was ok because I thought up a new international passport standard. Instead of everyone having passports, I used my powers to teleport all passports into my possession, then sort them and then place them inside a single omni-passport that I then banished to another dimension. That passport could be referenced but never taken, because it didn’t exist.
Anyway, I would alternate between exploring the city and talking to him. One time when I was flying out over the city towards the sunset, I saw that giant skyscraper-sized Daleks were crawling across the city, decimating everything in their path, and converting all matter to armies of regular-sized Daleks that swarmed in legions beneath them.
In my dream last night, David Lynch told me that the new Muppets movie was not the Muppets movie he wanted, but the Muppets movie he needed.
There was a new real time strategy game. I remember begin very impressed with it, because it had day and night and sound, it counted the sound you made somehow. We were fighting someone in this game. They drove a truck in and shot the place up. They kidnapped our horse or donkey, and the rest of the dream was about rescuing this creature. We were worried they’d turn him to meat.
I was in a strange village that appeared to have been made of all kinds of brightly coloured craft papers, some crinkly and others not. Sort of an indoor sound stage feel. I was with other children and we were trying to accomplish some sort of task together – build something, or find something, or build something with something that we needed to find. I felt like I was living in a world that came into existence because of an old computer adventure game I had once played (‘Dare to Dream‘ I think it was called). Continue reading