Posts from Dreams. Auto-translated

I probably would have been there too at that time.

And I would have been d'Artagnan. Because you didn't guess about Makhno either.

I dreamt that we, along with the Hevesh community, gathered in real life (I didn't understand which city, but it doesn't matter). First, we were riding in a minivan, Ment was driving and speeding, running red lights, and generally breaking all the rules. After a couple of such antics, Neyra decided it was wise to replace him at the wheel. Then, Ment surprised us a couple more times, for example, by suggesting we have a drink in the sauna. And for some reason, Alex explained to him that alcohol doesn't mix well with the sauna. In general, I've dreamt of the Hevesh community before, but never in such a way that was so different from the established Hevesh images.

Considering that I don't have a driver's license and I'm afraid to drive, and I can afford to drink beer in the sauna (of course, not in the steam room itself, but, for example, when I come out of it), maybe Ment was actually me.

Added 2 minutes later

Today, I dreamt that I ended up in some strange place that I couldn't leave. There were no visible obstacles to this, but it didn't affect the fact that it was forbidden. I was, of course, not alone there; there were other people, most of whom were clearly not entirely mentally healthy, while others seemed fine, or were just pretending to be. It's unclear why this place was created; nothing special happened there, and life went on in a rather dull way, like a faded parody of real life. In short, I spent ten years there. That's the dream.

This isn't a dream; this is our country.

I've come down with bronchitis and feel crappy, which is why I've been having insanely strange dreams for two nights in a row. Though that's always the case when I'm sick.
But one of today's was very vivid and cool.
It all started with the Tales from the Crypt intro, as if I were watching a movie, but after the intro, some letters appeared (I'm not joking, they were really big letters), probably something like a title. The Crypt Keeper didn't appear; the action started immediately. I was simultaneously viewing events from a third-person perspective and through the eyes of the main character, who was some kind of cool detective.
And then it was as if an old 3D game with crappy graphics appeared before my eyes (from that era in the late 90s - early 2000s when everyone everywhere was unsuccessfully trying to use unsuccessful graphics). This game seemed popular and is considered a cult classic (also a detective one), and at some point, the events of the game unfolded differently from the classic scenario where the main character and his partner are supposed to find stolen gold and return it to the bank; instead, the partner shoots the hero, takes everything for herself, and that's where the game ends. This alarms me, and I tell my bosses about it. The story sparks interest, and I am sent to some laboratory that researches computer game phenomena.
A young lady met me there, clarified all the details, and then literally forced me to connect to a device that would send me into the game so that I could prevent the murder of the main character.
I find myself in a noir 3D world where I start searching for that guy, discovering along the way that I am also part of the events and am considered that fellow's best friend.
When I got to his house, we had a chat; I told him everything, and he proposed a cunning plan: he would hide all the gold in his safe and hide inside the pool on the roof of the house (he figured something out so that one could breathe underwater), while I was tasked with swimming openly to distract the villainess when she came up to the roof.
When the scoundrel finally reached us, I began to realize that the world around me had changed, and instead of the stupid crappy 3D graphics, everything became a cuter 2D style.
It turned out that the culprit also knew me well and decided to spend more time with me, even leading up to intimate events (I didn't see any own-own, it was just perceived as a fact), after which she disappeared, and another familiar character attempted an assassination on me. After that, several more attempts are made on my life, then Mufasa my real-world form appears in the sky (I mean the living appearance of the main character, not exactly myself), who explains that a guy who decided to keep all the gold for himself and get rid of witnesses has actually started hunting me. And that if I don't solve this case and punish all the criminals soon, this world will gradually become more cartoonish, and I will have fewer chances of returning to my real body.
Later I met the son of that hero; as it turned out, he was divorced and barely spent time with his child. The boy didn't believe me at first, but after a series of attempts on my life right before his eyes, he stopped doubting my words.
Before waking up, I remember sitting in a cartoon cafe and wondering which juice to buy for myself.

And what if I don't quickly figure out this case and punish all the criminals, this world will gradually become more and more cartoonish, and I will have fewer chances to return to my real body.

Revan would think that's fine.

The world wasn't anime-like.

I fall asleep during a lecture, and I dream that I'm in the same lecture hall, but in a different row. Some idiots are smoking and throwing cigarette butts around, then another professor comes in (not the one who's giving the lecture) and starts smoking too, so our professor stays silent and doesn't complain about the smoking. And then I wake up.

And Alex dreams that he is sitting on a pair, and he is on a pair. And he sleeps.
And Alex dreams...

Actually, sometimes I really dream that I really, really want to sleep. I walk around and think, "Oh, I need to sleep, I really want to!" Then I wake up in the middle of the night – did I actually sleep? Why did I want to sleep so much, how silly...

And Alex dreams that he is sitting on a pair, and he is sitting on a pair. And he sleeps.

By the way, yes, in the dream I didn't just sit, but actually woke up. Quite funny, because the fact that you wake up here usually shows that it's real. What if I didn't wake up from this dream either, would I have a full life in a dream? Or maybe I really woke up inside a dream and am sleeping...

By the way, in my dream, I didn't just sit there; I actually woke up. It's quite amusing because the fact that you wake up usually indicates that it's real.

https://geektimes.ru/post/219819/
(not a recommendation, just interesting)

I also used to fall asleep during lectures. One professor would constantly wake me up when he started yelling at someone at the blackboard. And another time, he woke me up to ask if I was okay, if I wasn't feeling well. I said I was fine, and he just said, "Okay, go back to sleep." It was a good time.

Today, I got a good night's sleep for the first time in a week, which means I had the opportunity to have a somewhat meaningful and prolonged dream. I'll immediately note that everything written below is one dream, i.e., all the events are part of one plot. As a result, one dream turned out to be almost as long as a lifetime. The beginning wasn't too interesting, and it was hard to predict what would happen next. My parents come home with two cans of "Serious Mass" and another package of it (that's 11+ kg of that damn gainer, enough to last until the end of the year, and even more!). They said, "Here you go, son, you seem to be running out" (in real life, the can was almost empty). I was quite surprised by such unprecedented generosity; usually, I have to buy my own sports supplements, but here's such a luxury. However, the gainer seemed to be a fake. To unwind and recover from this, I went for a walk or to take care of some business at the university. The way there wasn't shown, but on the way back, I met some beggar woman on a makeshift brick platform. I didn't give her any money, but I kicked the platform, and it collapsed (well, what else, this structure was standing in the middle of the street, hindering people, it wasn't right). The woman started cursing me. Further down the street, I saw a bar (there's a very interesting story with this bar: both the street with the woman and this corner, and in general, all the places described before exist in reality, and I walk past them almost every day. But in reality, this bar doesn't exist! The corner is empty on one side, and there's some kind of store with glasses or cosmetics on the other. This isn't particularly interesting; what's interesting is that in another dream, a month or two ago, I was already in this very bar (that time, I was even inside, had a drink, it's a cool place), and it was in the same place. Since my last visit, they put up a sign with the names of regular customers (my name isn't on it)). I thought for a long time whether to go in or not, and in the end, I walked past. I started to cross the road, and BAM! I was thrown into some kind of roadside building, it collapsed, and I was buried under bricks. It looked like an accident, but in reality, the old woman's magic was to blame. It turned out to be not very good magic; I managed to get out from under the brick rubble without any injuries and continued on my way. After that, I headed towards the subway, which I always use to get home. But this time, the train stopped right between stations, I got out, and found myself in underground corridors, where, as I understood, various urban scammers lived and traded. Wandering through the corridors, I ran into some acquaintances from real life (if I'm more precise, from Istfak). Approximate dialogue: -- Oh, hello guys, what are you doing here? :confused: -- We came to the Bicharsky market to make some money; it's cheaper here. ;) How did you end up here? -- Cool, I recently had bricks fall on me, almost killed me. :cool: And I'm just taking a walk. -- Bricks fell on you? Well, you're quite the storyteller. :D -- Yes, I'm telling you, look, I have bruises. Oops, I noticed that I didn't have any bruises. -- Okay, I get it, it's a good joke. To come up with something like that – bricks falling, hehe. After wandering around the market for a while, I ran into some other acquaintances, whom I didn't remember, and finally, I came out to the surface, to the seashore (!!!). On the shore, there were three or four men sitting, and they were building something that looked like a raft or a boat out of a surfboard. After talking to them, I learned that they were going to make a journey across the ocean to unknown lands. They said that I could join them. On one side of the scale, there were 11 kg of fake gainer, cheap clothes from the scammers from the underground, and angry old women and my favorite bar; on the other side, there was the chance of drowning in the first storm (because our vessel was not just bad, it was terrible and didn't differ much from, well, a surfboard), being eaten by a shark, or dying of hunger and thirst. Obviously, I had to choose the latter. We attached a couple more logs to our makeshift vessel and set off to conquer the ocean. For about a year, or even more, we sailed across the ocean, hoping to see land. We were caught in rain and storms, and we ate jellyfish and sharks. One of us was eaten by a shark, and another one also seemed to have disappeared (if he was even there), so we continued our journey with three (or four?) people (I can't quite remember). The ship finally fell apart, and only the surfboard, a sail, and one log remained. In the end, we still reached a tropical island, where we were met by a rather large group of white people. Unlike us, who were overgrown and ragged, these people really fit the definition of "white people"; they were all clean and dressed in a civilized manner. It wasn't clear who they were, researchers or just travelers; it was only clear that they had recently arrived on the island, and it was indeed unexplored, and no one knew about it yet. These people shared food and clothes with us, and we began to explore the island. Traveling around the island in a group of about five people, we came across the natives. These people didn't know firearms and built rather simple dwellings made of stone and wood, but they were normally dressed and spoke our language clearly. They looked like either tanned white people, or Mongoloids with Australoid features, or a combination of these features. A group of about ten armed natives surrounded us, and under their guard, we headed to an audience with the chief. The mustached chief looked like either a Mongol or a Mexican. He led us to the shore and told us that the cycle of tides had been disrupted in the last year, and the island was in danger of being completely flooded. By the way, the theme of water cataclysms had appeared in the dream before; while in the ocean, we saw strange fluctuations in the water level, and even the Bichars discussed the upcoming flood. At first, he thought that we were to blame, but after a conversation, it was decided that we were not involved. It turned out that there was another tribe on the island (because of the tide, it had become more of an archipelago), which, according to rumors, possessed dark magic. They lived in isolation, built a village with houses made of straw, and surrounded it with a high palisade. It was decided to send one of the natives, the youngest and bravest, on a reconnaissance mission. He managed to get to the palisade of the savages by boat, but then he died, presumably due to magic. The island was increasingly going under water, and we didn't know what to do about it. It was pointless to storm the village of the savages, so we just wandered around the island, fished, and watched the constantly rising water level. The last thing I remember is that we were riding in a tram in the middle of the forest, and the chief was doing his morning run along the tracks. It's a pity that I woke up at this moment; I never found out how it all ended. There were a few other interesting moments in this dream, but I don't remember them.

For about a week now, almost every day, I've been dreaming that I'm talking to someone in my sleep. The dreams were different, some with a fantasy theme, for example, but in all the dreams, I consistently COMMUNICATED with some unfamiliar people in different places (public transport, a queue somewhere, just a street). And these weren't some crazy, nonsensical dialogues, but the most ordinary ones, like you'd have in real life. And I responded in the same way I would in real life. It's starting to annoy me. I even wanted to write about it yesterday evening. I thought that nothing would happen tonight, but no. Hmm. I wonder, after how many years of this kind of existence will I start having hallucinations that I can talk to?

It turned out that another tribe inhabited the island (due to the tide, it was now more of an archipelago), and rumors said they possessed dark magic. They lived in isolation, built a village with straw houses, and surrounded it with a high palisade. It was decided to send one of the natives, the youngest and bravest, on a reconnaissance mission. He managed to reach the palisade of the savages by boat, but then perished, presumably due to magic.

I bet your grandmother settled in that tribe and continues to conjure bricks.

The dreams were different, some with a fantasy theme, for example, but in all the dreams, I consistently INTERACTED with some unfamiliar people in different places (public transport, a queue somewhere, just a street).

The subconscious is playing dirty games with you. You say you want to be hikikomori, but in reality, you crave communication.

Vile subconscious.