Weird Dream Thread.

[Yufster]

Here is a thread for the weirdest dreams you ever had. I'm gonna start with the one I had LAST FREAKING NIGHT.

 

 

I was reading coverage of the GDC and I got sucked in to the magazine. Which was great, because it meant that I was at the GDC, so I didn't have an awful lot to complain about considering I'd just been sucked through a wad of glossy paper.

 

Then this guy walked past with his son, and this interviewer stopped to interview him, and I realized this guy was Tim Schafer. This should be hilarious! I thought, edging closer. The interviewer asked a question and Tim replied really coldly and turned his back. The interviewer asked another question and Tim gave him a filthy look and him and his son walked off.

 

Weirdness, he seemed like a nice person, I thought, and continued to bounce along at the GDC. Then, I met Donald Duck.

 

Donald, man! I said.

 

He kept trying to say something but I couldn't understand because I can never understand Donald Duck. I asked him what he was doing at the GDC, and he went completely wide eyed and said in a completely different voice, "Whoa, I have been uncovered! My plans, they are ruined!" and then he turned into a rabbit and flew off.

 

Then I noticed that I was approximately two inches tall. I figured this must have something to do with Donald Duck turning into a Rabbit, so I went to find Donald to undo it. But then I got sidetracked by an amazing looking stand with all these cool indian magical stuff. I could see this huge bottle at the top of the table that read, "Normality Potion". I tried to climb up the leg of the table to reach the spell which would evidently undo my shrinking, and then somebody tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around to see Tim Schafer, and then I realized I'd been trying to climb up a telegraph pole. I tried to sound casual as I wondered if I had swallowed some sort of a drug, and asked Tim, "So, uh... do you want a go? At climbing the pole, I mean?" To which he replied, "Are you a Game Designer?" To which I said, "Well, uh... yes. Totally. I am totally. So what're you here for?" and he said, "I'm promoting my new business venture; I've merged with LucasArts and we're working on a Star Wars squapillionequal. Although I guess, being female, you don't know what Star Wars, LucasArts, or Business Ventures are."

 

He turned on his heel and left, and then I was face to face with John Romero. He had the weirdest grin. He kept moving around, while I was talking to him. Then he asked me whether I wanted a job at DieHard Studios (I know that's not even the name of his company) and I said sure! And he said, "Oh, but wait... I don't know, you look sort of like a girl."

 

At which point I woke up.

 

I think it had something to do with a recent Double Fine news post and Alice in Wonderland, but I have no idea what. It was so messed up. And who said I'm insecure?! Whu?!

[Ryam BaCo]

ma'am, you're insane and tim-obsessed,

 

uh...whatever...i had a lot of weird dreams in my baldur's gate-time over two years ago, where i hardly slept and when i did i dreamed some weird stuff about nirvana and mostly about dragons, who kill your whole party in the hardes difficult level of bg2, elves, sorcerers,...

 

but i'm too lazy to write more.

 

okay...one more keyword: smells like teen spirit is really cool.

[JofaGuht]

I usually keep a dream journal, I'm very in touch with my dreams and I love lucid dreams (dreams in which you know you're dreamin and you control it) Though the ones I am most intrigued by are the ones that distrub me, or I don't understand. Check this out (WARNING: very long):

 

I was in a testing facility with hundreds of other people/test subjects. And I mean hundreds, but we were all being tested on the same thing. The scientists (whether they had a license to do this, I don’t know) were trying to get us all addicted to heroin so they could test methods and treatments that would best get us off the drug. Not so good when you have hundreds of people waiting in line to become a variable.

 

The conditions were pretty crappy at the facility, pretty much a stereotyped institution with the backyard of an abandoned mansion. Except, we were only the basement. It was pretty ****ing confined. Gets pretty confined and freaky when “test subjects” in withdrawals surround you. Well, for some reason I felt like I was doing good. I hadn’t gotten any of the substance yet, but I was proud that I was helping out in an experiment that could become really helpful someday. Possibly we (or they) could discover a method or a pill that gets rid of withdrawals or turns an addiction on and off with a snap of the finger. I was also kind of excited, yet anxious at the same time, to be able to experiment with the drug in safe quarters.

 

I was going to get my hit soon. Anyway, I found a pile of folders that was a description each different “type” of heroin (by the way, I don’t think there are nearly as many different types as listed, I think possibly I was thinking of opium when I had this dream). I don’t remember all of them right now, but I remember that one had a Spanish name that started with a “g” and had three words in it. But I wanted to try this other one, I forgot what it was called.

 

Well, it turned out the next day, that we were to be assigned our types(we were to be on the same type until we got addicted, then they were going to try switching us). I was hoping to get my kind, but it turned out I got an even better one that I hadn’t read in the pile of folders. It was called “dream state” (spelled in lower case letters, perhaps my subconscious was giving me a hint?). And I went up to the desks where we would be injected with our variable, and there were three lines, all super ****ing long lines of the hundreds of addicted test subjects. Would I become like this? I thought. Would I look like these hundred of faceless test subjects? Do I look like this now?

 

We were all wearing paper dresses. And I waited in line for what felt like a couple hours (probably felt a lot longer to the addict in front of me). When I finally almost got to the end of the line, my parents came to visit, who knew nothing about the experiment. Oh ****, I thought. I think I might have been crying or something. Not that I didn’t want them to know about the experiment, but the fact they were going to see me like this. My dad was joking about something in which I found impossible to laugh at. He brought me four bowls of cereal to look at, then took them away and brought back as only bowls full of water, then took them away again. Don’t ask me what the hell that means.

 

Well I couldn’t go against procedures, and the nurse at the desk (who was kind of looking like a bank teller) injected me with pink-colored heroin (this might mean something, because when I was like nine years old I used to think that heroin was pink). It seemed to be more than it should have been. Well, my parents just thought it was a treatment, so I tried as hard as possible to seem normal. Well, the description was right, I felt a mixture of extreme lightheadedness and as if I was interpreting reality through a dream (this brings some allegorical irony to me, as I look back at this, because I wasn’t interpreting reality through a dream, but I was interpreting a dream through a dream. Edgar Allen Poe poems spring to mind.)

 

Well, the high wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be (for the time being). Yet, looking at my parents and the lack of inhibition I was given through the drug, well let’s just say I realized how ****ing brutal this experiment really was. I was walking back to my quarters when I saw the hundreds of zombie-looking addicts walking back as well. I broke the hell out of the sadistic facility and sprung right to my dad’s car just before they began to drive home. I think they had realized what I was on by now, but I didn’t care. I just told them my treatments were done (which they knew was bull****) and that we need to drive the hell out of the facility before someone spotted us (which really confused them).

 

By the time we made it home (which seemed like an eternity and transitory at the same time) they had this big “victory” dinner set up for me because I had finished my treatments and I was “back to normal”. Well, it was at this time that the worst part of the high began to kick in, where everything gained neon colors (the bread was bright green, the roast beef was violet) and I got extremely nauseated. My heart was beating like a maniac and every little event (a ting on a vase) was the most freakin' intense thing ever to happen. I couldn’t eat of course.

 

I realized I had to help people at the facility escape. I told them to take me back and so they did, and this time the ride in the car seemed too short, too quick. Well I went back to the place and right before a couple of my friends (dream ones, I only knew them in my dream) were going to get their injection I grabbed their hands (there were only two of them) and we ran up this big hill or something and I let them escape. Of course, these people had become addicts by now, but there was nothing I could do about that.

 

I woke up, and when I went back to sleep, I had a much calmer dream about chasing a Residents tour and stealing **** from World Market.

 

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I'm not psychotic, I have dreams that are that intense very rarely...

 

Hey, has anyone ever seen Waking Life? That's a brilliant movie

[Joshi]

I dreamt I had a romantic evening with yufster followed by breakfast. Not a weird dream, but worth a mention.