Posts from Dreams. Auto-translated

Thank you for your detailed, psychedelic answers!

You can count on me.

Thank you for your detailed, psychedelic answers!

Today is Saturday, by the way.

In today’s dream, I was an alcoholic. Not just a drinker, but a truly nightmarish alcoholic, constantly getting completely wasted, and when the effects wore off or I didn’t drink for a long time (more than a day), I experienced withdrawal symptoms like a heroin addict. I wandered around the city, drinking, causing disturbances, and lying drunk in the streets. I think I had a job, but I stopped caring about it. There was also some girl in this dream; I would go to see her on the other side of the city, but alcoholism interfered with our relationship. I remember even trying to quit, but without much success. In the end, according to the plot, she moved away somewhere, and I started drinking even harder than before. I drove drunk and got into car accidents; the police were constantly beating me up. In general, in this dream, I was like myself, but 10 years older. I got drunk again, the police arrested me again, and this time they took me to some two guys who looked like scientists. One was a psychologist, and the other was an addiction specialist. They told me that I was completely wrong and that the state would take care of treating me, whether I wanted it or not. I remembered my withdrawal symptoms and didn’t resist. They did some tests, said that my mind was still okay, but they were transferring me from the main health group to a special one, not because of the alcoholism, but because of my messed-up elbow (I injured it in a sparring match a couple of weeks ago in real life; apparently, it hadn’t healed after 10 years). They gave a lecture and let me go under supervision. I really started drinking less, and even decided to go to training, even though they forbade it because of my elbow. But then something happened, and I suddenly drank a whole bottle of whiskey. Well.

Don't drink, Alex, don't drink.

I agree with Ment.

Don't drink, Alex, don't drink.

The police in the dream were saying pretty much the same thing.

And what about the Narrators?

Prophetic dream.

A prophetic dream.

The main thing is that it doesn't turn out like it did for Oleg.

I remembered a dream I had recently, though I've forgotten some of the details. At first, I was observing from the outside. A girl with superpowers ended up in an underground organization of some kind of lolicon enthusiasts. They were going to rape her and add her to their harem, but she killed them all and left. Then the dream shifted to a first-person perspective. I was in the same building, among mercenaries (apparently, the lolicon enthusiasts hired us to kill the girl if she ever returned). I had some kind of sniper rifle, and I was climbing the stairs to the n-th floor. I met Statham and Gyllenhaal there (there were other, random mercenaries too). They told me I looked terrible, and I complained that I hadn't slept all night again. We talked about what would happen when the girl returned – whether we would kill her or she would kill us. I said I didn't care if she killed me or not. It was a funny dream.

I hope this organization was blown up afterward.

Statham

I have Statham working as a minibus driver (a carrier!). And this is not a dream. The guy looks exactly like him, moreover, a shaved head and a slight stubble on his face are also included.

Today, I had a breakdown and cried in my sleep It's getting really bad when this crap starts affecting my dreams.
And I also dreamt of a deceased relative who was telling me that dying isn't cool and that existence after death is even worse. But I passed the skepticism test, laughed right in my dream, applied some kind of "three oranges" method (a box with three oranges appeared in my hands, and I covered the relative with a blanket), and woke up.
It would have been better if I dreamt of Statham and Gyllenhaal, and flying over mountains.

I look at Nera with horror and realize that I will probably have to start a family too. The Rodoks will make me anyway. And they will make me work. How can I stop this monstrous conveyor belt?

There's no way. They need units.

I dreamt that I was going to bed, but two large beetles latched onto me and were bothering me (it was unpleasant). The beetles were about two centimeters in size, round, and looked like ladybugs, but they clung to me like bark beetles. I detached them and threw the pair onto the floor. As expected, they fell on their backs and couldn't turn over. So, I had to carefully turn them onto their feet, making sure they didn't latch onto me again. One of them eventually turned over, climbed onto my bed, and crawled somewhere under the mattress. "Ugh, this is so annoying; I bet it will crawl all over me at night!" That's how my beetle adventure went.