File: 1327942170787.png (8.56 KB, 604x603, SleepoverMemepreview.png)
No.499[Reply]
Felt like making a thread since I didn't notice one about this particular subject.
Does anyone else just… not have memorable dreams? I haven't had notable dream for about ten years. I have a book beside where I sleep to try to record anything I remember, but when I wake up it's usually nothingness. When I was ten or so I remember dreaming about falling out the window with a pumkpin head and ending up on the floor, and also having random nightmares after playing some PS1 Casper game, but after that I don't think I've ever really 'dreamt'.
At most, I can only remember dreaming about doing trivial, mundane things that I always do.
I do usually just sit in bed for a few hours and just think up stuff, like story ideas, that's always fun. But even when I do that, my imagination… it's like, I can't picture anything, it's all in words and descriptions in my head.
So yeaahhh. Anyone else feeling left out about lack of good dreams? Or would any dreamers happen to have any advice at having interesting dreams and remembering them?
Also picture unrelated I suppose.
File: 1323213636471.jpg (99.41 KB, 307x500, creepy hospital.jpg)
No.416
File: 1325806120893.png (58.34 KB, 553x759, 1314397646852.png)
>>415
No.515
I was inside a tall fortress made of wood poles, there was strong sunlight and a lot of sand. I recognised it as somewhere I played as a child and opened a familiar inventory menu from a PC game I used to play, then started trying to put cacti around to decorate.
I forget what happened between that and the next bit but I climbed up a ladder into the fortress wall and went rooting around on my knees following a voice I thought was myself as a child. There were wrappers from sweets and snacks all over in there and I kept thinking 'wow this is terrible, I should have cleaned up after myself as a kid', and that nobody had touched the place in years. The view outside the fortress was miles and miles of desert and the sun was dangerously bright. As I continued up and down and around my younger self called out saying she'd found a man and that he looked 'like a shrivelled monkey'. I hurried in anticipation of something horrific.
When I reached the opening in the wall I looked down from a great height and saw a pit of tall needle like posts, and sure enough there was the shrivelled dead body of a man resting like he was lying on a sofa. But he didn't look like a monkey. And my younger self had nothing in common with me at all, and she was climbing on the needles, pointing at another man who was alive and skewered through one side of his chest, clinging for dear life. She said that was the one she meant.
He wasn't shrivelled or monkey like. Just middle eastern looking, as was my younger self. I woke up then thinking 'that little racist bitch'. I'm disturbed by what this might mean about me as a person, it was all so specific. Then I had a follow up dream the next night that was more violent and had lots of penguins.
File: 1321556146401.png (75.92 KB, 390x173, wasteland.png)
No.310
File: 1322313101264.jpg (122.72 KB, 800x587, digital-city.jpg)
So let's go with one I had a few days ago. I have to split it into two posts.
There was once a powerful god that created this world. It split itself into two parts, of which neither could come into contact with the other. The two were as followed: The digital and the physical. We could see the digital too, if you wanted to see it. It was a huge stream of color and chaos that in the beginning was closed off to the people. There was something wrong with it, you see. It changed people on the inside, warped them. Most were unallowed to access it. Occasionally, a person would access it without permission. It was not so much as we do, in which people jacked themselves in and that was the end of it. It was a jump to a completely different world. Our bodies were converted to digital mass. When it opened, there were multiple attendants at specific platforms people could go on.
Of course, this happened mid-dream. Before that, it was all physical. I was helping a man who had rescued me from certain death. He told me he was part of an organization that wanted to overthrow the world. He had saved my life, so I was in debt to him. He knew this and that is why I did not do anything to resist. He was also kind of messed up inside. As a young child he had killed his parents and anyone close to him. Rather, they died due to unfortunate circumstance and he blamed himself. He worked as a graveyard maintenance. In simpler terms, people brought the dead to him and he buried them away. He felt some sort of kinship to the dead, something I could only begin to understand as he so lovingly said goodbye to the corpses as he buried them. On occasion, those that wished to kill themselves would come to him and he would end them in the same way. He even had his own grave dug out for just-in-case purposes and told me to place him in there should anything happen and to take his job. I didn't mind it. It was peaceful work and I had nowhere to go.
He told me later on that we had to go work with the organization now. I remember that clearly. We approached the large river of digitalality that before everyone was still forbidden to. There should be some kind of policeman here, well they were not policemen. They were called moderators. He smiled and shook his head, saying that they had 'taken care of it'. He walked onto the river of digitality and smiled at me again. He told me to cover the grave as if he had died, and then to take up his job. I asked if he was going Post too long. Click here to view the full text.
No.311
>>310
When a male and a woman, the woman spoiled and the man her lover (a yes man, essentially) went to accuse him of not doing his job properly (hell if I knew why). First the man did it, and the Moderator laughed bitterly. 'You don't even mean the words you say. Get out of my sight.' he said. Beside him was the spoiled woman in fancy dress and parasol. She began to chew the Moderator out with some words of inpoliteness and whatnot, and the Moderator looked angry and ready to do something terrible. I butt in and told her to stop holding up the line, kicking her and knocking her flat on her ass, in which everyone started laughing. She got all mad and stomped off about reporting me to whatever. The Moderator clapped my shoulder and gave me three candies. He said if I ever needed him, to use these candies. I nodded. He laughed and told me to say hi some more and told me to step on the platform. I wanted to ask him something but he changed some modules, apparently giving me special access to some places and winking and said it was their little secret before I fell into the platform. It was no different from normal falling. I landed quickly after in a bustling town.
Immediately that guy was there. Or rather, no one else could notice him, just me. He told me to head to the most outer parts of town. If anyone tried to stop me, he would- I interrupted and told him that I had full acess to all things, a Moderator's gift for brightening his day. I then showed him the three candies. He grinned and pat me on the head and said I did good and just to head to the other side of town, far far away from everyone else. I nodded and he disappeared into data again. I moved past people to the other side, on the edge. A few guards, thick with armor, looked about to stop me but then stopped, apparently noticing my access and letting me through. I wandered past and beyond that, beyond the programmed trees and grass was chaos. Data swirled like wind around everywhere. Then he was beside me again and asked 'isn't it beautiful, this is just half of the god that created this world'. He told me to spend more time here, familiarize myself with the Moderators. I was oddly synchronized with the dataworld, so he said (I wouldn't know) and told me to try and sidle up with the higher ups and wait for orders.
I did. The Moderators appreciated someone that would give them some fun. EventuallPost too long. Click here to view the full text.
No.312
File: 1322313191366.jpg (5.52 KB, 225x220, deel.jpg)
>>311
I began to get more and more involved in the world of the digital, going back to bury people and sleeping. The Moderator I as familiar with gave me some editing powers. I made the whole 'fancy building' modern and minimalistic. Everyone complained and he and I had a lot of fun for the joke but he had to do his job and revert that back to how it was. Then he, the original man, came to me again and told me to start bugging things up. He knew I knew how to do so. If not, he knew where I could put in bugs. The system started to break apart with the work of him and I. It wasn't so hard. A simple deletion here, a reversal of code there. People would randomly be unable to enter, be sucked in, be spat out. The Moderators scrambled to fix their platform issues and we took the opportunity to start unravelling the bindings of the digital chaos and the ordered coding. After that, it all went to hell. Realms fused and warped there, so that everything mashed together in odd ways. He laughed and then told me it was time to see what we could do about breaching the border of the digital and the real.
I nodded and said I wanted to rest, and so I wandered into a place that as underground, like a bunker. I popped a candy for the first time and the Moderator pinged my mind, saying he'll be there in just a moment. Just like that, he was by my side, looking tired and exhausted and aged. It was clear that the changes had been terrible on him, who had been trying to much to fix the chaos I had wrought. I asked what'll happen and he said that if this kept getting worse they'll probably have to close off the digital again. I looked at him and asked what would happen if the digital started to bleed into the reality. He looked at me oddly and said 'I think I'll have to delete you now'. I hugged him and he hugged me and he said he was sorry and I said I was too. Then he deleted me.
No.512
File: 1328283424652.jpg (7.63 KB, 350x329, nope.jpg)
I was a young child fighting for my freedom. This oppressive regime that had killed off my parents and so many parents before would come to an end. Unfortunately, we were outmatched and outranked, and our killers managed to slaughter our leader. When I returned to the home we lived in, I felt quite sad, knowing that all the others in the house were similarly suffering. I wandered on down to find a young child in the laundry room, looking confused and hurt. It asked me 'why did he die' and I replied 'there are going to be far more deaths. If you want to come with us, you will have to learn to fight too, you might even die' and it cried and hugged me and I let it. Afterwards, I pet the kid and left to talk tactics with the survivors. None of us could be older than maybe fourteen, fifteen. It was a long talk, and we decided then and there that we will all go down fighting, and we'll die fighting rather than deal with a clean genocide.
I was wandering around the house after the talk and went to wash my face. Suddenly appeared a girl whose eyeballs were inside out or something similar in the mirror. She just stared with those inverted eyeballs, emotionless and saying nothing. Then the girl disappeared and replaced with a little boy, smiling so sweetly. I didn't smile back and instead I waved at him through the reflection of the mirror. One of his eyeballs ripped itself from the socket, expanding and swelling and then exploding onto his face with rotten eye-goop. Half his face was exploded and he had this empty eye socket but he kept smiling and waving. He opened his mouth as if to speak but a person climbed out of the mouth, ripping his jaw off in order to give itself some more room.
The man that climbed out looked relatively normal. Well, you see, relatively. It was then that I blinked and when I opened my eyes again his skin had turned acid green and it was… boiling,the man was screaming and his skin was boiling. He mouthed something at me but I didn't know what it was. I closed my eyes, turn, and ran. However, I found myself coming back and in the same room the mirror now showed a woman who looked like my mother, her mouth gaping open and tongue hanging out, her eyes black sclera on yellow irises.
No.513
File: 1328317396103.jpg (712.11 KB, 3607x2364, desert.jpg)
I had a dream about a Noble Thief Leader, who grew into his job rather than outright being ruthless. He was something like the robin hood for people. He helped the legitimately poor and unfortunate, while knocking the selfish and proud down a peg. He left good leaders alone, and attacked the bad ones. He taught his thieves honor and discipline, and he even went to take down a dragon with one of his close friends, and it seemed that there was nothing he couldn't do. I knew him well, as I was part of this guild. My main thing would be that I could snatch anything, and run out on horseback. In that dream, I had one of the fastest rides around and no one could catch up to me. I was very valued because of that. My horse was loyal and strong, refusing to be broken, and refusing all rides except for me, who broke him with kindness.
And then it all fell apart.
The nobles of that place, they were sick of our presence, and so when I next came to do the noble a service, all I found were guards trying to get at me. I ran off and back to the thieves guild headquarters to report the betrayal, only to find the whole town (for it was a town, not a building) up in flames and the leader fighting. I ran to join him, but he refused me. He told me that I had the fastest mount, and to take his children away from this place. I offered to take him as well, but he told me that it would only slow my horse down further, and I mourned for I knew he would probably die. So I took his children on my horse and ran to a safe village, giving them shelter and trying not to let them know what had probably happened. However, by their eyes and their expression they probably already knew.
A little while later, one of the survivors tracked me down and told me that our leader is in fact /not/ dead, but he might be alive. However, they had surely left him to die in the desert nearby and if I didn't hurry to rescue him, he would be dead. So I took my horse once more and dashed there, meeting up with one of our old allies. He fronted as a chef. However, he was afraid. They were all afraid, too afraid help me. Instead, they pretended they didn't care, or had never heard of him, or assumed he already died. So I alone navigated the desert, leaving colored flags to mark my path, eventually I found hid body. When I picked him up, he groaned so weakly, like a baby. I was afraid he would die, and so I tore into my own arm and had him drink my blood as I began dragging him back ouPost too long. Click here to view the full text.