The messed-up dreams continue.
This morning I was shocked awake again, this time just 10 minutes before my alarms were set to go off. Dreamed I was involved in a breakup, maybe mine, maybe someone else’s. In an effort to seek comfort, I grabbed a carload of friends and we went riding around. Found ourselves at some place where there were huge screens playing video games and ads for video games, kinda like a messed-up version of Dave and Buster’s. Something seemed really odd about this place, and this girl who was riding with me also sensed it, so we went wandering from room to room. Found this one room that had curtains all around it on the walls, much like a movie theater.
Someone we knew, someone whom we met recently in one of the previous rooms, told us to look deeper inside this room, and so we did. Lifted the curtain in one spot and found a door. We went through. What was on the other side was a secret society, a secret lab, a hideout, all kinds of people there doing business, holding training, philosophizing about politics and stuff. I had a camcorder with me and started taping. As we walked room to room we ended up in this whole area that looked well-kept, was brightly lit, and looked very much like a television studio.
As we stepped out of the studio, where a show was being produced, a plainclothes cop or secret agent got the girl I was with and got me too. Found the handycam and the tape inside; asked me to please eject the tape and hand it to her, very much in the fashion that someone in airport security would ask me to do so, basically to see if my camera was real and not a weapon. She took us down to the station, walking past many of the rooms we wandered through. The station wasn’t too far, only a few rooms over. All my friends I’d gone riding with were there, and I was given the main seat at the table, where the handycam and its tape were sitting.
An officer came in and started asking me questions, questions concerning me, my affairs. I started getting curious about why they were holding us, and they gave no suitable answers, so we were stuck there while their questions to me grew more and more personal. I was answering them as truthfully as possible when they started asking me about my mother. This seemed to be going too far as they were asking me about when I had last seen her, spoke to her, called her, what she was doing with her life, etc., etc. Then they revealed to me why I had been held for questioning — they had evidence my mother was involved in a secret, hidden society, and I was involved in the case; the tape in the handycam had evidence.
All I saw was me leaving the room while mumbling something about ladies and gentlemen, cabin, and pressure.
I blindly tore off in my car, filled up the tank, pulled into the driveway of an upstairs apartment I was renting above a nice house somewhere in the Hyde Park neighborhood, and proceeded to unload my car for packing things in for a long trip. I knew I had to see my mother.
And that’s when I woke up.
I strongly believe that dreams are essentially little more than random neural patterns, experienced as memories, sounds, images, events, etc. The brain does its best to understand and make sense of the neural noise. In my case, and especially in the case of my dream this morning, every single thing my brain filled-in that was triggered by the noise was from recent memory. That seems to be the minefield that my own brain pulls from; others are from distant memories, some are completely imaginative. Why my brain pulled those memories, I cannot know or predict; I do know I was feeling stressed, anxious, tense, sad. Brains are good about controlling your emotions without your oversight. I have a feeling that because of the emotions I was sensing, a strong coloration was put on the memories recalled to fill the static gaps, and drew up tense memories amongst the completely random.
Ok. I do remember talking to a friend, online, about a local electronics retail store. Mentioned the rooms full of stuff, gadgets. Recalled the big screens, the game systems, the advertising everywhere. Wondered about being able to buy a handycam there and before I paid for it filled up a tape with video from inside the store, just so I could show my online friend what the inside of this one particular store looked like. Ok, those memories have been discovered.
Ok, what about the driving around? Ah, yes, my roomate and I spent over an hour just driving around out in the countryside last night, visiting some neighboring counties. Not exactly a carfull of people, but it’s enough for a dream. The filling of the gas tank? I did that last night on the drive.
But what about the room with the curtains, and the TV studio? Ok, yesterday while looking online for news about the New England area power blackout, where I read articles about TV studios going off the air and suffering with backup power, I came across a sponsored link at the bottom of an article that was selling “blackout curtains.” Wha? So I clicked and was sent to a business that sold really thick curtains that you put behind your normal curtains to completely black out and darken a room. Great for those with night jobs. Well, interesting; I thought they were selling them for the old WW2 usage. Context-based ad serving engines kinda flubbed on that one. Feh.
And so all my images are discovered and answered. But what about my mother? I know it’s been a few weeks since I called and chatted with her; I’ve been considering doing so for the past few days. And there that is. Somehow I think I’ll be calling her soon.
My dreams reveal nothing; they only mix and match recent memories. :sighs: Anyone out there feel the same about themselves?