non-lucid

I was just back from Switzerland, and my mother asked me if I still knew where my (cell) phone was. Yes, I did, it was in my room, plugged in. I went into my room, and found it plugged in, but on the floor, so I shuffled around some cables and put it on my desk. I had one text message. I thought to myself how sad it was that, in three weeks, I’d gotten one text message. It was from a friend of mine, Bernard, who probably needed my Chem notes.

Then I was on a bus, going to a mall in a nearby town. I noticed a ton of people I know (and a ton I don’t) sitting near the mall. One (whom I know) caught my attention, “Hey Ben; do you know how to get to Clark’s house?” Clark is a friend of mine, with whom everybody associates me. Yes, I knew how to get to his house, but it sounded rather implied that I would be going, which I didn’t want to do. I gave directions “Go down to [street], turn left until [street]. It’s number 162.” This got repeated a few times, when I noticed Clark nearby, with a bag of weed. I approached him, and he began laughing hysterically, “That was a cop car that just passed by.” It passed by again. He began desperately trying to do something (?) with his weed. It passed by again and stopped.

The cops were a little sarcastic and wise-assy, but they took his weed. I ended up leading into a conversation about how cops have to do even less in Switzerland, since nobody really cares if you roll cigarettes, smoke weed, or whatever the hell else you do there. They took his weed, and gave him a choice: “If you want, we can do this the normal way. But if you swear never to smoke weed again, we’re done here. If I catch you, though, I’ll stab you.” It seemed like he’d accepted the “normal” path, because he tried desperately to regain his weed (grabbing is not a good idea).

He still had 19 credits (which, apparently, is his currency with his dealers) left over. He jumped in a pool of water (god knows why), and his credits went down to 0 (I had a helpful little counter in the bottom-right of my vision). One of the cops pointed this out – apparently credits are water-soluble.

A satanic-looking giant baby terrorizing a city, sucking up energy from citizens, while several other abominations lurk in the background. I was tweety bird, who also had the ability to sap energy. Entering the city, I began attacking one such terrorizing creature, subtly sucking up its energy, from behind a wall. It noticed. I began flying away, trying to avoid its ability to kill me. It was rather powerful, with the ability to teleport, and conjure things (really all kinds of things you don’t want to fight against). I heard a voice in my head, “Now get the apple juice on her, and stab her with a silver knife”.

I was in a small shelter, with conjured, spinning blades coming up towards me from below. I assumed that stabbing her with the silver knife would remove her powers. So I tried it. It worked. Her (for it was definitely a “her”: a middle-aged woman, copper hair, quite pleasant-looking if she weren’t so angrily evil; I imagine there’s a Hansel and Gretel section in my subconscious) powers were gone, now she was just human. She began throwing apples at me, and I, in human form, began catching them, throwing them, and whatnot. Then I realized I could turn in to a bird, and just flew away a little. I brought her to a lightning storm, where she was to be destroyed. But as I waited, she changed, changed into a rather attractive 20 year-old. At this point, I felt bad for killing her (even though it was fairly necessary), so I apologized, and then... woke up?

I was now back in the Chem lab with Bernard. In front of me, a fist-sized jar of liquid, containing some string of beads, and what appeared to be gravel. This was a kind of memory of the fight between myself and the evil entity. I felt it was worth commemorating. I took the slightly-covering lid off, to add something. Clear liquid flowed out onto my fingers. I realized that, if it was a jar of liquid, formaldehyde would make sense (preserving whatever it contained). I smelled it; it smelled vaguely of formaldehyde. I asked Bernard, “Is this formaldehyde?” His answer rang vaguely of formaldehyde. I washed my hands, trying to remember if aldehydes were water-soluble.

Returning from Switzerland, my mom left me with my younger brother momentarily at the airport (actually, for quite a while). Responsible brother that I am, I noticed some people I know at a restaurant, and walked over to talk to them. It turned out one of them was having a birthday, and was going to a club to get drunk and whatnot. I then remembered I have a 9 year-old brother sitting alone at the airport. I returned. He was not there.

I looked around frantically, but he was nowhere to be found. I yelled at somebody who worked there, "Did his dad already pick him up?" I was told that yes, he had. Well Christ, that meant he'd likely been kidnapped (since his dad wasn't expected to be there). I bounded up, and started ascending flights of stairs. It was about this point where the goal of the dream changed from "Get my damn brother." to action-movie-sequence; my brother no longer appeared in the dream (not even in thought) after this point.

Behind me, I noticed that more and more armed gunmen appeared, the further I ascended. They were letting me through to negotiate with the guy at the top (I knew this was likely expected to end in my death). I also noticed a girl I'd flirted with a little at the restaurant was following me. I put two and two together and realized that, since she didn't have anything to do with this (to them), she was going to be killed. I turned around briefly to see her pass by the first gunman, and he began to draw his pistol. I continued running forward, but heard the shot behind me.

I felt no remorse, nor dread, nor even sympathy or pity for this girl. In fact, my only two thoughts were "Well, if she's was a keeper, she would've not walked into a room with armed gunmen without a plan." and "This is SO cool!" I made it to one of the top levels, where another woman was being held hostage, with two or three men were in the room. Nope, not this time.

I stopped in the middle of the room, turned to one of the gunmen. "Shoot me." I said, tapping myself on the forehead. He shot, but missed (a hostage struggling in your arms will do that). I turned to another, "Come on", again, tapping my forehead. He shot, and I swiped my hand through the air, feeling something thud into my palm. He looked frightened, then put his gun up to his temple. Again, I felt little emotion, but more of a man-to-man respect: "If he wants it that way, I'm not going to stop him." (That being said, I wasn't intending to kill anybody). By the time the shot was heard, I was already diving towards the girl, who would definitely be the next target if they realized I couldn't be killed.

I ended up saving her, and we ascended to the last level, where I found a doctor (who had become the new goal of this dream), dead by gunshot to the head, lying on the floor beside a gurney, a pool of blood, a diameter roughly three times that of his skull, lay around his head. They'd likely killed him before I'd even started ascending - they'd just wanted to kill me too.

And now, I was brought back to the beginning, before it all happened. I was walking by my high school, listening to a broadcast by that doctor on the radio (he was talking about how spermicide is the most cost-effective option to keep from getting pregnant, because it lasts 9 years). Anyway, I got back to the airport, rushed upstairs, and managed to get him out of the building in time.

Wandering through a school, which resembled more my grade 7-8 school than my high school, where I noticed a girl I know, walking in front of me. I said hi, but she seemed not to notice, so I caught up to her. We walked and talked for a few seconds, then split, as I continued to wander around the school. I then came to a sort of "common area", where it turned out that this school (and likely much more) was under a rather heavy control, where chocolate was banned (but, strangely, still sold). I came to a vendor and bought a group of small stalks (resembling asparagus), which were supposed to be a powerful hallucinogen. I didn't take any, but my friend did, and he appeared to thoroughly enjoy himself, so I kept the rest.

I ran into the same girl from earlier, and we talked for another minute or two, before splitting again, and it turned out I had a biology test (which I vaguely remembered being announced). I rushed to the room, marching band music playing, and got there just ahead of my teacher, who may or may not have been playing the music. The teacher came in, illustrated how much the test was worth (something I didn't care about, since Biology was not in my top 6 grade 12 courses), and told us we had 10 minutes to review. A friend behind me said "man, I'm so glad I found out about this pop quiz ahead of time." I turned to him, "It wasn't a pop quiz, he told us about it weeks ago. I remember it."

"No, that was the test on Monday."

I got a little scared, then stopped caring, "Oh man, I guess I missed that."

He looked at me a little weird, "No, you were here. At least.. No, you were definitely here."

"Really? I don't remember that at all.."

I frantically found pages of classifications of types of connections between cells, of which there were many (I seem to remember there being three). After trying frantically to memorize names symbols, and structure, I noticed the test was on my desk. It seemed obscure, very thinly biology-related questions, and I didn't do very well.

Stan & Francine Smith (American Dad) were on a scary religious kick, in which they lured men into knowingly having an affair with the married Francine, and then killing the "adulterous bastards". Things kept going wrong, and Francine kept getting hurt at the last moment, dying. Because of American Dad logic, however (where, often, new conflict is brought up and left unresolved at the end of episodes), Stan concluded there must be multiple American Daduniverses, and could kill himself to switch between them.

This continued, eventually where Stan became my father, and Francine my sister (I think the plot changed at this point, too). They found out I knew what was going on, and I became afraid for my life, so when they were acting natural (but likely planning to kill me), I began breaking a window in the apartment, hoping to jump to the outside. I kept beating them back, and punching out the screen (which, in reality, the window doesn't have), until I finally managed to get to the outside. My sister said something about me having a limited time to live, and that I should spent it eating sweets or something, like others of the "social class" (by context, it seems to have meant "middle class").

I began to run, deciding to eat dream sweets (at this point, I had some knowledge that I had some godlike control over this reality). I found a nearby bagel place, which I suspected also sold donuts. I noticed a rather cute girl inside, and began to talk to her, when she left with her mother. A moment later, though, a very similar girl (or it could have been the same one returning) showed up, saying "You should take me to dinner." I tried momentarily to think of something witty to say, then turned to thinking of where to go. Before I could, however, she continued "Actually, you should just come have dinner at my place." And, a moment later, "We can just eat dinner in my room."

I agreed, deciding that if I really did have little time left, I might as well have fun. We proceeded to her place, which happened to be next door to my father's apartment (where I'd jumped out a window, earlier). When I realized this, I began to mentally change my appearance, giving myself longer black hair, a shorter face, and a squarer jaw. I asked her what my hair color was, and she seemed kind of annoyed by the stupid question, but after a bit of pestering, told me it was black. Armed with this, I decided I should test out my disguise on my father and sister. At the apartment, a memorial service was being held in my honor, and I walked up, saying something about being sorry for their loss. They asked me if I'd known me, and I said I was just in town for a short time.

I turned to leave, and began going to the girl's apartment for "dinner", but it turns out I'd installed video feeds in my father's apartment, and that my father/sister suspected my disguise. They'd seen where I'd gone; I had to get the girl out of there. I began running up and down this vaguely familiar apartment (similar layout to my dad's), trying to find a big enough window for us to escape through. Eventually I found one which might work, and began breaking it.

I, with my friend, was riding the subway back to Finch station, from somewhere around Union (or past). In this subway, each car was 10-15 feet across, and had two sets of doors, one set to let people in/out, and one set inside the car. The doors opened, and my friend said we should go inside the inner doors, in case of a flood. The doors opened again, and two cute girls walked in, as I slipped into the inner compartment with my friend. A moment later, one of the girls (a blonde) came in, looked at us a little weird, and leaned against the opposite wall; I gave her a smile and nod, and returned to talking to my friend, who promptly told me that after prom, he'd missed the subway (or it could've been plane) home, and so he'd been gone for two days instead of one. I followed up with "Yeah, I've had that. Whenever I miss the buses, I just stay at your place." The girl looked at us somewhat mockingly again, and I continued (in a voice implying really-are-you-an-idiot) "Oh, not like that."

At this point, we exited the subway and boarded the streetcar. I can only surmise that my subconscious has no idea what a streetcar is, because this was a chain of little erasers on rails. We rode for a while, and I made smalltalk with the blonde, and could tell she was somewhat interested. At this point, I did something stupid and my "streetcar" came off the rails. I had to jog as quickly as the streetcar and try and get it back on the rails, to void holding up the people in cars behind me. No use, I couldn't get it back on, and eventually, the streetcar sped to be much quicker than myself.

Fragments

I remember being in my bedroom with my sister, my brother, and my brother's friend, playing some kind of block game. I noticed that my laundry basket (which, in reality, I'd placed in front of my door, so I'd remember to do laundry in the morning) was askew, as though I'd opened the door and walked right by it.