Crash Amnesia

10/2/2025 –

I’m in a full plane flying through surrealist pink and orange skies. We’re supposed to be heading to Seattle and we think we’re close but no. Out of nowhere the captain comes on the intercom and announces that we’re going to have to stop in Phoenix first for unspecified reasons. Oh, and there’s like a record risk for COVID at the Phoenix airport when we’ll be there. The entire plane groans in unison but of course, we were told this might be a possibility. The COVID incubator thing adds a nice touch to it though.

We thought we were getting near Seattle but nope. We were actually very close to landing in Phoenix, which makes sense considering the painted skies thing come to think of it. It doesn’t even seem like a full minute goes by before we’re coasting into downtown. This is beyond excellent and I immediately realize the downtown area has way more high rises than any picture I’ve seen.

None of them are very tall though, just like actual Phoenix. I give my imagination credit for making a larger scale slightly warped version that stays true to the actual thing. I was just looking at pictures and yeah, same vibe, just bigger.

That’s neither here nor there, what’s weird is that like, why would a plane be flying right into downtown? It doesn’t make sense, in fact, we crash into the concrete level of this new construction project and I go into this incredibly odd crash impact freeze frame world. What the fuck? I can feel how when nose of the jet hit the concrete, time nearly stopped. It’s moving slowly and I’m floating in air, just waiting for the snail’s pace encroaching surefire death blow. I can’t really see anything either, I just feel it. It feels like I’m floating in a concrete tunnel with yellow polluted air.

Am I dead? I don’t know. Eventually it’s like the concrete time freezing tunnel either suddenly jumped or I was just floating there that long, but now I’m waking up on new looking cobblestone streets in what feels like a hip urban neighborhood. I am on my stomach with my arms flailed out in front of me. I am wearing jeans with trendy angular black boots while rocking a long sleeve white shirt with a black leather vest. I’ve got a short crop of wavy black hair. I’m wearing circular sunglasses. I look cool but who the fuck am I and what’s the fuck is going on? I can’t stress how amazing this crash amnesia experience is, which one would not expect.

I look up to the thin rocker looking guy with a slick goatee standing over me in a dark gray logo hoodie who appears concerned. I’m telling him that I have total amnesia and he’s not processing it. Like, this is a difficult thing for him to comprehend. We eventually end up at a brewery/bar spot and I’m standing above him in this elevated area as he asks me questions.

I’m not sure what happens here because it seems like this is a continuation of the previous amnesia crash narrative but it also feels like I’ve transformed into a slightly different person and I’m with some new compatriot. There’s a vague feeling like we’re a crime fighting duo or something. We have similar coordinated outfits at least and we somehow end up in this place that’s like a wax museum but only with like 10 statues, which all look like radiantly bejeweled sacred tribal figures. We choose one on the left side because we were supposed to choose one apparently.

When we do, suddenly this tall blonde slightly pudgy almost Russian looking dude with long hair tied up in a pony tail and 4 or 5 of his minions mystically appear behind us. The lead tall dude tells me he’s going to kill us right off the jump. Then he lays out an entire spread of food on this midsized table. He knows what I need. I need a mini hot dog dipped it an unidentified red sauce. He is not wrong.

And wouldn’t you know it, ingesting this tiny sauced hot dog leads me back into the hall of wax people. Except none of the statues are here, just this one woman standing in the place of where one used to be. I don’t seem to be the same person and this doesn’t seem like the same place but it also is. Holy crap is this woman stylish. Very interesting head to toe white jean look with frequent and splashy small color patches. She’s got a short spiky whoosh cut here as well that all the way works. Retrofuturism from the 80’s but better.

There is nothing else for me to do here other than talk to this excellent woman and I do. Nothing creepy or anything. She tells me she’s an actress with a name that starts with an e that I’ll apparently never remember. After chatting for a spell I bid adieu but tell her I’m going to look up her movies, which I immediately do. It’s a surrealist color explosion on my phone and my world shifts. I’m now in some kind of large communal housing sitch with walls that match some of the colors from the explosion. As far as I can tell she makes some dope ass art house films but why can’t I remember her name now. I want to know more. Why does search history not work? This is supposed to make me go lucid but does it? No.

Instead a much younger version of this minor internet personality shows up. People seem to be going crazy outside the window.

“I didn’t want to turn this into a cult, but I think we have to turn this into a cult.”

He tells me. I’m not sure but I see some of the outfits the peeps are wearing outside. The fits are so on point that I’m thinking he just might be right.

10/3/2025 –

I’m in this very old, large creaky wooden haunted house looking place with several other unidentified peeps. We’re on an upper floor and there is a red orb entity floating in mid air several floors below us. We are interacting with this red sphere seemingly by bouncing telepathic questions off of it. I do not remember the answers but I think they involve new branching narratives. That’s the feeling I get.

Now I walk over to my desk and open the second to the bottom drawer where there is an open bag overflowing with an unidentified white substance that I instantly start snorting.

In the next vision I’m looking at tile floor from above. A square portal opens revealing a space beneath the bottom layer of the flooring, which is filled with pizza. A secret compartment of foundational pizza, just beneath the floor. That’s the bit.

In the next dream I’m in what feels like classroom in a modern building. There is this young man represented by a floating green sphere and I’m trying to convince him not to shoot someone. He very much has his mind dead set on shooting a specific person and I’m doing everything I can to talk him out of it. It feels like it’s working but I’m not entirely sure.

I leave the facility and now it feels like I’m on a work trip. I wander around a bit trying to find my place and learn that I’m sharing it with this slightly younger absolutely gorgeous Latino woman that looks a bit like Sofia Vergara but sleeker. I’m rooming with her and she’s apparently the mother of the kid who I know is contemplating murder. We’re staying in like a multi-roomed Airbnb and we basically just go our separate ways.

Then later at night when we’re both going to bed, she starts asking me about it and I relay how concerned I genuinely am. I’m legit not sure if I got through to him but I tried as hard as I could. She’s worried too and she comes over to embrace me which is legitimately painful because she’s wearing some decently revealing nightwear at this point and good fucking god is she gorgeous. As mentioned, like Sofia Vergara but even more attractive somehow.

Also, while she’s in my arms on the couch, I’m temporarily taken over by this yellow audio transmission. I’m catching some of the words and it feels like a medical diagnostic of her health and potential issues. Words cannot describe how peculiar this yellow radio health transmission is and it’s on another level of reality that I’m processing at the same time I’m looking her right in the face. I find it hella strange but does it make me go lucid? Somehow no.

Why is she in my arms wearing what’s essentially lingerie in the first place? Does she want to sleep with me? Maybe she did just spontaneously want to be consoled but again, good lord is it not easy to hold a half-naked woman that beautiful in you arms and keep it on the level.

I do though, and the next morning head out to hit the conference or whatever it is again, except that I get lost wandering around this fairly normal looking downtown open-air mall space.

I suddenly realize that I’m in Phoenix and remember that I was in Phoenix in a dream the night before. What is going on with that? It’s a hell of a thing to contemplate in the other world. After that I continue to wander around the downtown urban mall thing as it continues to get more and more surreal. At one point I climb up a floor on a large burlap sack, only to realize I’m in the way of letting this 12-year-old kid down. My bad. But I’m holding a bag and a beverage. I have to go all the way back down. This is obviously stupid and that’s where it ends.

10/4/2025 - 

Extended dream where I’m at work. I’m starting this new job, we’re not super busy yet and I’m somewhat just trying to kill time. So are some of the other new hires. This is literally the position I’m currently in, in the waking world. A few other employees are called into the room that others were hanging in. They’re old timers who’ve been working here forever. Like, 80 looking and in some excellent fits. It’s like a full body white jump suit with crazy artful color patches all over that look like paint brush swipes. I know that sounds stupid but here it isn’t. Grandpa’s got style.

Another woman mentions the excellent bread she found and it reminds me I should probably take a meal break. I follow her inconspicuously as she heads to a kitchen area on the other side of the facility. Oh man, that does look like fantastic fucking bread. But shit, there’s only a few pieces left. Now I move a bit to my left and realize there’s a whole other loaf. One brown, one gray. The brown’s almost gone but I’ll get at least one piece and the gray loaf remains untouched. This woman really did have the skinny on the killer bread. She was not fucking around.

In the next vision I’m calling a cab from an airport. I’ve just arrived and I mention to the cabbie that I’m here for what I’m gathering is a local snooty pants university. He immediately brings up the fact that he’s driven who I get the impression is a high ranking or well-known professor there. The woman knows who he is and is super impressed. Associated with him is this image of an information card with a lot of writing on it. She immediately feels this. His info card is brown. Hers is white. She aspires to have a brown info card.

Now I am in a typical meeting room in a corporate office, granted, one with a cool view of a grassy courtyard. I’m sitting in this large room by myself. There is a fancy brown looking info card on one of the higher floors of the office complex. This is attainable. That’s what I’m being told.

I am about to take the stage in front of decent sized crowd. The lights are bright but before I head out, I’m looking at nudie pictures on my phone. That’s the vision.

In the next one there are two women chatting at an outdoor party that seems kind of swanky. One turns to the other and says:

“They call me Freeze Frame”

Support oneiromancy, buy my new book!