Dr. KJ (owner of C-company, from which I was recently laid off) was renting the ground floor of a building, a sort of office building perhaps. He had the entire thing made up to be a library, with extremely tall bookshelves filled every last one of them with copies of the same book. It was not exactly a book per se. It was a sort of binder that took the form of a hardcover book, and inside were pockets containing three or so smaller books of different sizes, and maybe one of those was actually an audio casette.
A calf being led down a narrow, winding staircase into a basement slaughterhouse, so that his mother would follow.
A boy, he was to be put on an assembly line, where he would be taken apart and converted into a stroggo, a cybernetic monster. I was on the assembly line myself and it was horrific, like being processed at a meat factory where instead of employees there are big hideous metallic creatures that want to rip you apart piece by piece. I can’t even describe it, but it was bleak and frightening and horrific.
I was in school. It was actually a school that I’m starting to realize has featured prominently in several of my dreams, yet it doesn’t exist, and I cannot think of any possible basis that may have inspired it. I’ll call it the Windowless Classroom School. It is characterized by classrooms in a probably-upstairs hall who’s chalkboards/teacher’s area faces the door, and the door is exactly in the centre of the room. The classrooms are not lit as brightly as they usually are, and there are no windows. The walls are not white as they usually are – if I had to define them, I’d say they were either wood panelled, particle board, or panels of those hole-y wood stuff often used in garages and workshops to affix things to hooks. They generally have a workshop feel to them. The rooms feel comfortable, despite the fact that I almost never enjoy these dreams. The floor plan most resembles OTHS, where I spent my final year of HS, but only just vaguely and possibly merely coincidentally.
I was a college student living in a basement. It was a very massive but cramped basement, unfinished cement walls and tonnes of room. The only reason I can think anyone would want to live there was that it was insanely cheap, because it was cold and extremely basementy in the worst possible way. There seemed to be a lot of rooms down there. There were plenty of people living there I was friends with, but others were high turnover rate people.
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.
The following dream also involved me as a military action type guy on an adventure on a space ship or space station or space base. I was shooting at henchmen in black metallic armor and bit pointy helmets and then taking their rayguns and using those. I was rescuing, escorting a group of prisoners. Giving them guns.
We came across a room full of machine turrets and I started throwing grenades at them. The grenades kept overshooting, or bouncing off of them and exploding too far away. Wouldn’t you know, it ended up none of the turrets were even activated.
Wednesday, April 14, 2004 – Part Two
A few nights ago, actually I think it was the nap I took the day I got back (yesterday?), I had a dream about some family that hated me. The mother of the family was the next door neighbor kid G’s mom from England, though largely in appearance only. Her personality was that of a bitch whereas in real life the only time she ever had a tone was when she mentioned that Sliver was pornography when she saw it in our video collection (what is it with that forgettable movie and these dreams lately?). I can’t recall why she hated me, but it was definitely for a reason that made no sense. Like maybe I was supposed to take care of something of hers while she was away and then it broke when she got back and had to order a new one. Anyway, they her sons, who were dumb followers, were standing at the window watching me masturbate and as soon as I realized it I hid somewhere and chucked rocks at their heads for ages. I was so good I managed to get the rocks to bounce off one and hit the other. Strangely they were hurt but just stood there about thirty meters away not really understanding where the rocks were from. Then suddenly they mobilized, and I realized the whole family was moving after me and might want to kill me so I found a place to hide in a van I owned. Then they all got in the van and I was like “what’s going on this is my van” and she’s like “let me tell you about having to order [bla bla bla, alluding to the event that was the cause of her hatred for me]”. So I guess I basically had to give them my van. What a bitch. I think the watching me masturbate thing was from an episode of Trailer Park Boys.