Managed to remember two dreams (or fragments of them, at least) from last night.
In the first, which came at the end of several other, forgotten dreams that were probably rather horrid, my beloved was torn to shreds by seagulls whilst drowning in the ocean at a quiet beach beneath a blazing red sky. I was unable to help, having either already died in the dream or being far away or otherwise rendered helpless. Bart Simpson walked out of a building on the seashore and saw this, and was so traumatized by the sight that he fled screaming into another building, which turned out to be a sort of sideshow/amusement arcade attached to the run-down beach resort/lodge he (and presumably the rest of the Simpson family) was staying at.
He immediately rushed over to this shooting gallery game and began playing it, seemingly trying desperately to distract himself from the chilling scene he had witnessed outside. The game was rather odd and incorporated a lot of nonsensical dream-logic in its design; the projectiles, rather than being fired from a gun, were instead launched by way of a bright yellow mallet that swung down from somewhere above where the player stood to aim and struck them.
I'm not sure how one went about aiming such a device, presumably it was somewhere forward of where the player actually stood and was adjusted by a control panel, but whatever the case the targets in the game were, rather than tin ducks or whatever these games normally have, sculptures/images of those pale, purple-haired twin sisters from the show.
Bart quickly ran out of ammunition after playing frantically for a short while, but he continued firing, with the mallet (I believe he had placed himself in its path deliberately) now striking him repeatedly in the head instead of launching balls. As it slammed into the back of his cranium for the third time, he was plunged into sweet, merciful unconsciousness, which was presumably his goal.
However, he immediately "awoke" in what at first appeared to be a dream-version of the same situation. Whatever horrors he had witnessed outside were gone (and seemingly forgotten), but instead he was now terrified to realise his family (or whoever had brought him to this desolate beach and its dilapidated, sun-scorched accommodations) was long gone, leaving him stranded there.
Just as he was on the verge of giving into despair, wishing very much that he was home, suddenly... he was.
It was around this point that Bart realised he was actually far in the future, where technology had advanced to the point where one could teleport simply by wishing vigorously enough that they were someplace else.
Anyway, he entered the Simpson home and marveled at the various new technologies on display. After a moment, deciding to make the most of this (I am unsure if he realised he was dreaming and would presumably wake up at some point, or if he thought that he had actually been transported to the far future), he accessed a household teleportation console on the kitchen table.
He tapped the icon for Marge, then presses what he thought was the button to teleport her to the loungeroom (living room). It didn't work. He tried a couple more times, then, just as he was becoming frustrated with the device for seemingly malfunctioning, Marge's voice rang out from somewhere across the house (my subconscious replicated it quite accurately, too), explaining in a rather annoyed-sounding shout that it was spelled "L-O-U-N-G-E".
As it turned out, Bart's spelling was so poor that he had been sending her repeatedly to the garage, having spotted a G and an E in the right place and assumed it was the correct word. I am unsure if Bart was that dumb in the show... I guess he was supposed to be an "underachiever" or whatever but he never seemed that hopeless.
Once she finally reached her destination and entered the kitchen, where Bart began laying out whatever plans he was formulating for his probably-brief visit to this strange future, the dream ended, because I needed to go pee. Alas.
In the second dream I was reunited with her, she who had met such an unpleasant demise at the beginning of the last dream. She didn't seem any the worse for wear. I am not sure if there were any earlier parts to this dream, but the bit I remember began with her messaging me to inform me of a tip she'd just received about this really great vegan soup-delivery service.
I expressed enthusiasm ("Oh rad!"), but tempered it by pointing out the various known risks of dealing with potentially-dodgy soup delivery services.
Whether this was a topic I was well-versed in or I was merely making shit up in a feeble attempt to impress her is anyone's guess. Eventually, though, she invited me to accompany her to place an order, since apparently this company had a physical office. I, of course, agreed. Perhaps this was my plan all along? How suspicious.
Whatever the case, we eventually made our way to the premises at which we could place orders in person, which turned out to be a rather dingy-looking storefront in a shopping mall, with most of the surface taken up by darkly-tinted windows with just two single doors by which to enter, depending on the purpose of your visit.
Passing the left-most door, we headed for the second, but she stopped with some surprise when she actually reached it to enter.
"Oh yeah, it is packed." This strange place turned out to be exceedingly busy, which was apparently something she'd been warned about. After conferring briefly it was decided that I would go through this door and wait in the queue whilst she went off to handle some other part of the ordering process, or to get money or something. Perhaps she just didn't want to wait in this hectic queue. Fair enough.
I stepped through the door (I may have had to actually push my way in, that's how crowded it was) and claimed a place in line.
The small, low-ceilinged, unpleasantly lit and dark-blue-carpeted room seemed to be basically wall-to-wall chaos. It was horrendously crowded. There were people milling about everywhere to the point that it was hard to tell who was actually waiting for what, most of the queueing area was hemmed in on either side by these rather ghastly pine partitions, like the walls of office cubicles or something that reached approximately to the average person's chest, and at the far end of the whole mess there were some old, bank teller-style desks at the back of the room, which were apparently the goal of all this.
The whole scene was incredibly claustrophobic, come to think of it, and I wonder if even her presence would have been enough for me to overcome my agoraphobia to press on through it all in real life. Seems rather doubtful... fortunately, this was a dream, and so I pressed on.
As I neared the front of this awful queue there was a bit of a commotion. Some rather scungy-looking character with a shaven head and white tank top had emerged onto the scene and was, non-violently but quite insistently, forging his way impatiently to the front of the queue.
A guy who had been in line next to/immediately behind me for (I think) all this time gave up his spot to the newcomer, shuffling awkwardly off towards the exit and the back of the line. He seemed rather weird and like a huge dweeb, but nonetheless I felt I had bonded with him through this shared misery and was sad to see him give up. I made eye contact, my expression puzzled, and he sort of shrugged and mumbled something about the other guy reeking of gas and clearly needing urgent assistance.
The fellow in question added something along the lines of how he had almost died, or was dying, presumably as a result of whatever incident had left him smelling so strongly of gas. I was unimpressed. Even someone less gross than this dimwit would have had to seriously tug on my heartstrings for me to consider surrendering my spot in the queue after such a long and unpleasant wait, I certainly wasn't about to give it to this creep. Why he even needed to order soup so badly during an apparent medical emergency, for that matter, I had no clue.
At that moment my turn finally came and I approached the desk.
There were various questions and plenty of confusion to deal with as I arranged everything, and at some point as I placed the order (can't remember the details of said order now, or even if I was also ordering some soup myself or if it was all for her) it occurred to me that I probably didn't have enough funds left in my bank card to cover the whole transaction.
A scary thought indeed, especially considering the massive, already volatile queue immediately behind me, containing at least one ill-tempered and potentially violent bogan. I cast my eye frantically about the room looking for her, but she was nowhere to be seen. I had expected her to be somewhere over on the left side of the room, possibly in a corresponding queue over there, but I couldn't spot her.
Not sure if I called her name or desperately tried to message her even as I continued arranging the order, but eventually just as I was on the verge of total panic she finally appeared in the doorway at the far side of the roiling crowds, and at that moment I awoke.
I guess the first dream makes for a far stranger and more interesting story, but the second dream was certainly more pleasant to experience, even despite its frightening parts. Mostly I'm just glad to have remembered some dreams well enough to record them for a change, I haven't managed to do that in quite some time!
Edit: Cleared up some confusing sleep-befuddled wording and added a sentence I forgot to include earlier.
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Topic: The Dream Thread (Read 512626 times)