what happens when los angeles mode…goes insaneo style?
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trust me you do not want to be their
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I had weed (I never have weed) so I mixed it with coffee grounds and grape nuts and put it in the coffee maker. Then I filled it with milk instead of water. The substance it brewed was incredibly vile.
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this is something an adventure game protagonist would do
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Yeah. I softlocked myself out of a good time!
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I was watching a shot on video horror movie that started out with a musical number with a group of people walking down a long road. The guy was engaged to someone out of necessity but was in love with someone else. To get out of this situation he fakes his disappearance by hiding in a secret room in his house like Gary Busey in Hider in the House, where his lover can sometimes sneak in to visit. Somehow he gets gross and mutated and bloody while in hiding over the years. I was about to write a letterboxed review after watching it but the more I thought about it the less I understood the plot, and I didn’t want to say anything out of line because I thought the filmmaker would read my review. That’s when I luckily woke up.
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Dreamt that @daphaknee told me to read Fup again.
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I dreamed there was a game sort of like mini golf, but it was played with fancy tops that spun much faster than normal, and the course was covered in snow, so how well the tops powered through the snow was part of the game. Also there were a wide variety of tops, and you paid for them in a kiosk where their attributes were tagged and rated by previous players.
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do it!!!
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looks like we got a prophet in our midst fellas
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swimming in the ocean at night, right beside a financial district full of high-rises. the currents are stronger than my swimmimg ability. i want to avoid being swept out to sea. “this is essentially just the imagery from the end of the great gatsby,” i think to myself, “this is hack shit” and wake up while slamming my hand into the wall in a doggy-paddle motion
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last night it was like 6 months living with a traveling group of crust punks in the midwest
then an exciting urban warfare scenario followed by a truth and reconciliation thing
then a very uplifting sex dream that was so nice i wasn’t even disappointed it wasn’t real
i don’t normally remember my dreams at all. apparently the bit in a christmas carol about “an undigested bit of beef” is true and i should eat more heavy meals right before bed
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Been remembering a lot of dreams because my cat is really clingy these days and knows exactly how to wake me up in the middle of a dream.
One I remember from last night was me about to have to cage fight a woman on a huge platform with a massive water slide coming off of it. I think you win if you throw the other person down the slide. We were waiting for it to start, and she started giving me protips. Like “cross your arms like this and they’ll release the attack dogs” then she pointed to a weapon on her arm and was like “if you do that I’ll have to use this.” I woke up thinking how dead I was if that fight had started.
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I dreamed I was back on my old college campus and got like a 9% on a test and made a comment about how I should shoot myself right there, which was taken as threatening as it implied I had a gun, so I apologized and roller skated away on roller skates I was inexplicably wearing.
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I woke up very hungry after getting only 4–5 hours of sleep, so I got up and ate, then went back to bed and had three WILDs (Wake-Induced Lucid Dreams, where you pass from being awake into dreaming while still conscious). One only lasted a few seconds, but the other two were more substantial.
1
I’m lying in bed trying to fall asleep and suddenly feel a pressure on my chest and that I’m struggling to breathe. For a moment I feel frightened, but I remind myself that I’m probably just falling asleep and should stay relaxed. The feeling persists for a few breaths, then dissipates. I gingerly try opening my eyes, and although I’m lying in bed and can see the dresser, the environment has the feeling of a dream, so I try rolling over and sitting up. The bedroom is more spare than in waking life, almost empty.
Sitting up, I feel the dream start to break apart, so I get to my feet and touch the wall with both hands. That helps, but the dream still feels unstable, so instead I try blowing on my hands (a new idea I haven’t tried before). That works even better. I run my palms along the surface of the dresser, feeling the woodgrain, then turn to leave the bedroom.
Suddenly the dream begins to break up again, so I try dashing around the circumference of the room at high speed. I find I can do this very smoothly and it doesn’t make me dizzy, so I enjoy the feeling of the wind and the bedroom whooshing around me in a blur. Then the dream does break up fully and I’m lying in bed again.
2
After laying there for a while I feel myself fall into a dream and realize I’m standing on a raised aluminum platform bounded by a guardrail in a huge warehouse or hangar. There’s a sprawling concrete floor twenty feet or so below. Behind me is the door to a small enclosed room with a window looking out into the building, and ahead and to the right is a metal staircase leading down to the floor. I can see many people down below sitting at fold-out tables who I know are aid workers of some sort, and there are palettes here and there with towering stacks of shrinkwrapped cans of food and various dry goods. I’m wearing a blue jumpsuit and have my hair tied back in a ponytail.
I feel curious about the people down below, so I walk down the staircase to mingle with them. The social atmosphere is very animated and work-y, with small groups of people discussing logistics and charts and making serious phone calls and things. I stare for a while marvelling at a stack of many thousands of cans of beans, then feel in my left pocket and realize there’s a piece of paper in it. I get kind of a funny idea I want to try.
Sitting at a table in front of me is a young olive-skinned man, clean-shaven and with short black hair, whom I somehow know is named Bill. “Hey Bill,” I say, “I have a note for you,” and hand him the piece of paper.
He takes it solemnly and reads over it. “This doesn’t say anything,” he says after a few moments. “Oh yeah?” I reply. He hands it to me to look over.
It says something like
Jio rf 542
la r g# rar
m ta 5
4@5j
handwritten in blue ink. The characters shift and change a bit as I stare at them. I watch them for a short while wondering if they’ll resolve into something more semantic but they stay purely nonsensical.
Suddenly I zoom backwards rapidly into a black void, pulled by an inexorable force. I can still see the interior of the building in front of me, as if in cutaway, but it’s quickly disappearing into the distance, a small point of light in the endless nothingness. I realize that I’m naked and look down at my body, and then I wake up.
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I had a dream that AI was transforming people into conscious household objects, but with the added twist that AI had a very broad understanding of what a household object was. So for instance one of the objects was a pipe sculpture with christmas stockings on the exit pipes.
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A short dream I had during a nap.
I’m in a small white-walled conference room with Everest and Olivia. We’re sitting at the far end of the conference table talking about a simulationy game we’re making together. Everest suggests that we should add farming mechanics, or at least some sort of support for agriculture or deliberately growing plants in some sense. Olivia agrees enthusiastically. I get excited too and say to Everest that for a long time I’ve wanted to work on a game with a rich-enough representation of growing plants that the game could support a variety of different agricultural traditions or practices without any of them having to be special-cased. Olivia starts talking about contrasting agricultural practices around the world we might consider but (sadly!) I wake up before she can get very far.
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Dreamed that in high school I had a phase where I grew a full length Amish type beard (for disguise purposes) and that my family was rediscovering this phase in old photos. There was some element in the dream about me having gone into deep cover using this beard and everyone kept almost saying things about my deep cover identity and revealing my secrets (to the mob? It was unclear). I got so pissed at my family for doing this stuff that I went to my handler at the Secret Agent Organization and told them I wanted to regrow the beard and go back into deep cover to get my relatives off my back
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Dreamed I had to cancel surgery because I got the plague after a rat bit me on the mouth.
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I dreamed I got a ticket in the mail for driving across the grass from a highway to an auxiliary road to escape a traffic jam. Dreams like that always fuck me up because they’re plausible.
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