Shape Shifting Digitized Narratives

11/1/2025 -

A vast scene where I’m a part of an unspecified crew or college class or something. Lots of shenanigans lost to the ether. The one thing I do remember is this pony tailed woman wanting to take me back to my pad. I ask her why she doesn’t use the helicopter? She mentions how hard it is to land and with this, images of how we tried this earlier in the night flood my mind. She had to bounce through multiple well-manicured yards before she finally managed to stick the landing. Seems like more of an issue of parking than anything else but I see her point. No chopper for us.

In the next scene I see this black orb with a white Saturn-esque ring. I’m told that it is God and it penetrates into the dorm room reality or whatever the fuck it is.

The next thing I remember I’m pure flying consciousness and I eventually find my way south of the city at this very interesting and very large smooth 10 story or so red brick building that seems like it houses a gajillion apartments or student dwellings or whatever. I’m like mind scanning with several of them as I try to link with a specific friend. When I do, I tell him I’d been looking for the wrong bar the whole time. Then this icon on the screen comes up.

“See, I found this online and I thought it was this one, but it was a completely different place.”

And with this I get the feeling of all the adventures that in reality I’d just forgotten. This was the ridiculous conclusion. I was looking for the wrong place the entire time and I never got the impression there was a right place to begin with. Kind of a funny story though.

Now I see the flying ring black orb segment of God again. It is throwing up a translucent shield that protects a few people on the left side of the screen. The rest of the scene is enmeshed in the forcefield which is keeping the people within the left-hand crackling bubble protected.

After getting up and getting back under, I’m now in some sort of enhanced human program or something. I’m laying down on a white colored gurney type device. There are a couple other patients here waiting around and one of the main guys from across the room starts talking about how these serums we’re taking have plotlines embedded in them.

“What? I thought these were only supposed to be physical enhancements?”

“Nah, the theme of this one is aggression.”

The imperial guard looking dude says as he reaches across the room and injects me. Fuck. Now Kenny Smith shows up but he’s got this open tank top and silver tattoos. He looks kind of cyberpunk but I’m like:

“Why are you here? You’re a rich celebrity?”

I then internally look at myself and the other augments around me. We’re only partially human but mostly extravagant shape shifting digitized narratives, splashing around in our hospital bed bath tubs. Why would Kenny Smith want this? It’s obviously going to make you a bit of a freak. As I stare back at him in contemplation it suddenly clicks. Aging. He states as much just after I’m done thinking it. I can sort of see it but on the other hand, I don’t know. I’m not sure if this is what I’d choose for myself if I was Kenny fucking Smith.    

11/2/2025 –

I’m floating in this round and extravagant spaceship looking thing. We’re cascading past these titanic steppes that I get the feeling represent different times and storied alien places. It seems like there are many segmented realities we’re moving past on our way downward into the mystery. This awesome soundtrack comes on the air with these coordinated and high-pitched keyboard squeals. What’s awesome is that there’s a nostalgic familiarity to it.

Oh yeah, the theme song to this show. I’ve heard it a million times but it’s been forever. I’m singing along to the synth squeals when the whole thing disintegrates. Wait a minute, I think a part of me is making this shit up on the spot. And yet I remembered it like it was something from my distant past. Always trippy.

Next I’m in my grandparent’s old place in the Columbia Gorge. We’re supposed to go to some sort of party, I think my Grandpa’s funeral (which happened a long time ago). I’m opening the bathroom door and talking to him on my phone. Cool, we’ll meet up later.

Except that when I leave the bathroom I’m now entering the giant mall building downtown. I’m here to attend this boxing match which is happening in the room where I have my shared condo building. I can see it as a red indicator light in the bottom compartment of this graphic read out of our pad. It does briefly occur to me that I do not like boxing but whatevs.

As I walk around the stylish metallic mall my dad calls and I’m a bit confused. Yeah, wasn’t I supposed to meet up with them back in White Salmon? The call blips out. My cell phone is going crazy with all these maps of Seattle coming up. Yes, I’m at the high-rise spot for the boxing match. My dad keeps cutting in over and over as I walk around the mall and each time the maps of Seattle keep drowning him out. I look at the surrealist map for a bit. I know what the cell phone blipping thing means, don’t I? I should, I really should.  

Instead of going lucid I wake up into a vision of 7 of 9 from Star Trek Voyager flying above a lower-level sci fi reality from on high. She is dispensing thick bolts of downward facing triangular energy into the lower-level sci fi reality when the words:

“Narrative Dead End Connectors.”

Pop into my mind

11/3/2025 –

Jesus, it’s the dream where I’m packing my shit up at a hotel for the gajillionth time. For some reason I move it all to this other hotel room down the hall. Then we leave and eventually end up at this party. It’s at one of my old friend’s house and there are several people outside hanging out on some patio furniture. He has this small white one-story house with a triangle roof that we’re sitting across from.

As mentioned, we’re just hanging outside smoking and what not when it suddenly hits that I left all my shit in the other hotel room. I was supposed to grab that, wasn’t I? Honestly it doesn’t seem like a big deal so I head into my friend’s small white house, which looks way bigger from inside for some reason. One of those deals.

Once I’m in he greets me and I’m kind of confused and impressed. Apparently one of the features of his parties is that he selects curated music for guests and they then lie in bed and zone out in their own private room that he sets them up with. He tells me that one of his friends is listening to this goofy song with the chorus of:

“I am the most charismatic boy!”

On repeat. Which is supposed to be sung by a large dog. It’s about how he’s the bestest boy essentially and I see him running up the street with a stick in his mouth singing it. I wake up and concede that this most charismatic boy song should absolutely exist in the skin world.

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