I Am Space Itself

10/27/2023 -

A vision of man with like 5 short hair papillon puppies on the sidewalk in front of his house right by a busy street. It doesn't look like they're in any immediate danger but even though it's brief the vision creeps me out. Also, I understand this metaphor because it's been beaten into my soul a million times. I'm like a dog. I live in the context of a much larger world and there are dangers in that world that I don't remotely understand. My life seems super boring to me but I'm young and all they're doing is protecting me from these potential pitfalls that are mostly incomprehensible from my meat suit perspective.

In fact I'm later told that:

"It is now mildly safe for you to go back to your car."

I think I'd probably rather wait until it's more than mildly safe to jet off into the new sunrise.

One other dream. I'm at a backyard barbecue with this Invisible College professor who it seems is more like a friend of a friend. He's your prototypical pencil neck geek looking thin white guy with thinning blonde hair parted on the right. He's got circular thin rimmed glasses and the oversized yellow golf shirt.

This expositional backstory downloads itself into my mind regarding the primary theory the guy's famous for, which is that you can't really compare people from vastly different time periods.

Again, this is the astral plane and what he's getting at is that human consciousness is largely derived from the larger society that people exist in and that everything about that context changed so rapidly at a certain point that a person from one time period is barely even the same thing as a person from100 years later.

I know this is his thing and for some reason I want to fuck with him so I'm all:

"Hey professor (whatever his name was). Who would medieval times equivalent to Karl Malone be?"

And the guy instantly starts going on a passionate rant about how you can't even compare the conscious experience of those two time periods and I have to sort of cut him off in the middle politely laughing at him. Like:

"So who would Karl Malone be then? .....Just kidding, I know your take on this my dude, I'm just fucking with you."

On one hand I agree with him, on the other there are low key incel vibes to the interaction. I'm sure this is all in reference to the harsh ass Women's Studies professor from a few nights back. I hope I'd come across as slightly sexist to future generations. I was in fact raised in a culture of toxic garbage. On the other hand, I can always do better. I'm sure this was related to the prior vision about the unleashed puppies.

10/28/2023 -

I'm some form of unbound consciousness floating above various planets. I'm scanning these particular areas of interest on the surface and when I do they're enveloped with this coated red illumination from my perspective yet they remain unaware of this intrusion. This process often generates cool looking colored badges in my deep psyche. It's like I'm a spaceship hovering outside the atmosphere but there is no spaceship. I am space itself.

What else? A vision of a YouTuber's studio. He's filming in what almost seems like a blown up building and he's got a greenscreen square that's little larger than his head taped to one of the walls. If he leans back with his phone in a certain position, he can do his monologues and make them look sufficient. I'm told that this is why what he does works. Fair point. As much as I hate the creepy monopolism of new media, it does give lots of people chances to reach new audiences in ways that were previously impossible. This guy seems like he's living in a war zone and I'm not sure if that's supposed to be metaphorical or literal, nor that it matters.

Now I'm in a new scenario where it's like my wife and I are getting married again. We've rented out this fancy venue and the whole family is there dressed to the nines. Except that wait, we're not getting married, this is like a huge Easter celebration. What the hell? On one hand I'm relieved because I realize I'm just going to have to sit back and listen to the service but again, what on earth is going on? Why would I pay to have a huge church service? We don't go to church. Seems pricey too. I'd say it makes no sense but I know that my father is dying and it would be nice to have some parts of the family all get together at least one more time while he's still alive. It'd be cool if it didn't involve church though honestly. Noted.

One more thing. The pasta recipe has changed and this adds extra work to our weekly routine. Who's going to account for this? This is a big deal and it's presented telepathically like a quest menu in a video game with an intentional manila envelope looking design. That's it, you check the box. Cool. Box in menu checked, quest done. Again, this is much less random than it seems and it involves understanding autism.

10/29/2023 -

It's the last day of my weekend so did I have dreams where I was working and also trying to go to school at the same time? Of course. This time I'm in my office and it's slow as hell so I'm just killing time but then I realize I was supposed to be at a meeting that no one told me about. When I arrive I'm realizing they're re-assigning us and we're doing more sales work now. I'm handed a pile of what look like invoices and it's like I have to call on all of these to make sure we get paid? Something like that.

I'm super confused but mainly as to why no one told me I was supposed to be attending this meeting. Now I'm in school rather than work though because you know, of course. We're in a small packed classroom and there's some sort of commotion outside. What is it? Black people revolting apparently. This is super awkward because roughly 4 of the 30 students in the class are black and we all look at them like: please don't revolt in here. It seems like they're not going to but wow is the whole interaction awkward and you know, quite the obvious metaphor on wealth in relation to race as well.

I wake up, then get back under and now I'm roaming the halls. I run into a dude I know and he confirms the thing with the stacks of invoices or whatever. We're apparently supposed to pass some sort of test where we can demonstrate that we can process a certain amount in a set time period. Fun.

Not long after I'm settling into a new class and holy crap, what? I realize that it's a new semester and I've apparently enrolled in a full slate of new classes. Why? This is the exact opposite of what I wanted to do. I keep telling myself I'm never taking classes here ever again because you know, I've graduated. Yet here I am, signed up for a full slate of stupid new classes. There is something seriously wrong with me.

As I start to sit through this session the teacher sort of goes into "research on your own for a bit then present to the class" mode. I am super duper confused and have absolutely no idea what she's even talking about. None of it makes any sense to me and I'm just hoping she doesn't call on me, although even if she does I'll just tell her to go fuck herself and walk out. Thankfully she doesn't and some other hotshot decides to field the inquiry.

He goes up to the front and starts doing a bunch of what look like very complicated equations and I'm like:

"Oh Jesus Christ, seriously? I actually signed up for some hard science course? Fuck this!"

But eventually I realize he's just using all these equations to draw a picture. When he's done he walks away and it's somehow turned into a living scene of a 20 something Indian woman working at a 7-11. She's wearing the prototypical green smock and she comes around from behind the counter to explain that whenever she drinks Pabst, she gets the shits. I gotta admit, this is genuinely hilarious. All the dude's complicated equations were essentially offering a scientific explanation for the well known phenomenon of Pabst ass. I must confess that now I'm curious to why Pabst did give me more problems than other cheap beer back in the day. I'm sure there is in fact a scientific explanation for that and a mystery I'll probably go the rest of my life without ever solving.

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