It Was All Fake. That Was the Entire Point.

7/22/2025 –

This one really sucks because I’m watching this spectral TV show for a long time in the functional family’s bedroom. It’s the next morning, I was staying over, woke up and decided to just start watching this addictive show. Here’s where it sucks: I do not remember the show at all. I remember a huge psychic beige screen cracking with cubic rock blocks dripping off the sides. I remember the strange yet pleasant inner vibes. Nothing else.

Eventually the functional family kids show up. It’s a little past noon and I don’t feel like it’s weird if I stay here and finish this show. I should probably help clean up the bedroom though. Yeah, I’m definitely going to make the bed.

Later I’m watching Captain Marvel navigate through this shifting living maze that feels like it’s made of circular silt. It doesn’t seem tough to get through, in fact it’s all pleasant. It’s just that you have to move through it slowly. This is the point they’re making over and over. You have to move slooowly. Be like Captain Marvel.

Also a vision of a woman with a brown sweater. She’s showing me how to use the sleeves to tie both arms behind my back.

Captain Marvel appears again. We’re hanging out in the top floor of this dimly lit bar that I’m getting the vibe she owns. We talk for a long time and I don’t remember the details, just the end. This bar? It’s all fake. She makes it evaporate in front of my eyes in bursts of black and white psi blocks to show me it was all imagination in the first place. All fake. She set it up that way from the jump. That was the entire point.

7/23/2025 –

I am looking at social media and I get an invite to an internet radio show. Then I get another invite for another internet radio show at the same time. I’m conflicted because I want to listen to both. Even in the vision I’m not entirely sure why this is a problem but I’m thinking that it is.

In the next dream I wake up with a UFO podcaster I used to listen to all the time and it’s super strange. I come to in this truck and have no clue what’s going on. Why am I here? What the fuck is happening? This podcaster doesn’t seem to have the answers and he’s pretty much just like:

“Duuuuuude!”

As well. It seems like we’ve been hanging out for a while. We exit the truck which is also strange because it’s like a giant blue industrial one that’s a two-seater but someone else is driving. For some reason we keep getting stuck in the door but eventually we shake it off. When we do, he’s so thrilled with our adventures that he wants to grab coffee, which we go to do.

When we do, it again gets weird. He heads off to grab a cup and I try to follow but I get caught in this odd metallic machine that seems to be trying to pull me in and crush me. I have zero clue what’s going on here but eventually he re-emerges with water rather than coffee. I absolutely don’t understand a thing about what’s going down but as we walk out on the city street I lose the thread entirely. This sucks because it involves me getting pulled between various waking states into a sleeping state in this orangish yellow room that I very much wish I remember.

Later a vision of a shirtless Bernie Sanders and 2 other shirtless men wearing black leather pants and black suspenders. A rectangular block of rice falls from the sky and they all clamor to claim it as their prize.

Now a man with slicked back jet black medium length hair wearing a black leather jacket and jeans standing on an air craft carrier. He has glowing red eyes which immediately remind me of Wonderman.

7/24/2025 –

There is a gigantic silver cosmic outline of a woman floating in the depths of space. She’s a skinny white woman with tattoos, a small tuft of blonde hair, and slight meth teeth dancing around the stars. She’s a prostitute but she’s giving it up for a man I can feel off to the right of me. He seems like another region of space personified. Mostly black energy. I sense that finally giving up space tricks is a positive development for her region of the galaxy. They seem to be relieved by it.

Next this white portal opens up and all these kind of headshot images of these partially real, partially line drawn animated women fill in and out of it. Definitely women of all races with maybe a focus on black women. Of course, when I start to contemplate what I’m looking at the faces distort themselves into weirder and weirder surrealist configurations.

When I pull out of this, now a song about California girls. Not the Beach Boys song either but rather a fairly simplistic beat with the very soulful voice of a black woman belting out the words “California girls” melodically on the one.

Next I’m walking down the street and next to me is Madonna’s practice space, which I immediately walk into instinctively. It legit feels like I’m in England based on the architecture and honestly, her music studio is pretty modest. I’m going to jam with this little kid. He’s on the keys and I’m going to go rock the guitar but when I start playing with the pedal board there’s a problem. Too many pedals. Too many to fit on the board.

“How does anyone use this thing?”

I think to myself as I immediately start reconfiguring things.

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