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A lot of weird and extremely confusing and jumbled things went on in the dreamscape early this morning. This tends to happen when I "sleep in" which I did this morning, and spend more time in that pre-waking state. I remember a lot more than what I have time to document right now, so I'll confine this entry to the most striking element.
One sequence of the dream seemed to begin with me trying to get somewhere quickly in a car that I used to own (a black Mini Cooper) at night in an unfamiliar city, but I was frustrated by heavy snow and ice on the streets, and the car kept spinning out of control and when I would regain control, I was forced to go in directions not of my choosing. I drove down a narrow street in a district with very tall buildings and approached a crowd of people milling about in the street. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stop and end up running over someone, but the car slowed of its own accord and turned into a pedestrian mall located in the space between two buildings. This was covered with a translucent canopy that kept out the weather. This place was crowded with people engaged in all kinds of wild carnival-type activity, and it resembled in appearance the "Flesh Fair" in the movie AI:
The car stopped and I got out of it, glad for the crazy drive to be over, but wondering what was going on in this place. WIldly costumed people gathered in little groups. Some of them danced and cavorted about. Everyone seemed to be speaking in the style of dialogue from a Shakespeare play, and a mood of general mirth pervaded the place. I wandered through the crowd and soon saw something rather startling: myself. "Uh oh!" I heard someone say. "He's not supposed to see you yet!" My twin approached me and said, "It's all right. It was almost time anyway." For some reason this image of me spoke in an English accent, and sounded pretty much exactly like Malcolm McDowell. While I was surprised to encounter this situation, it didn't feel as creepy as it seems to me now as I write about it. "Are you exactly the same?" I said to him. "Exactly," he replied, "Except for being artificial." I touched his face and his skin felt warm but perhaps a bit too smooth, probably because it was some kind of android skin. I felt through his clothing to see if he also had the same body piercings that I do. He did. "This is bloody brilliant," I said. And I think it was here that I woke up up, or at least enough for the dreamscape to fade away.
I really dig this idea of having a passable double to help me live my life. How great it would be if I could send him off to work a day job while I remained here to concentrate full-time on my publishing and writing activities. What would be even better is if it were a replica like those in David Brin's novel Kiln People where I could send him out in the world and then, when he returns at the end of the day, download his experiences into my own memory so that I would always know exactly what "I" was doing all day.
One sequence of the dream seemed to begin with me trying to get somewhere quickly in a car that I used to own (a black Mini Cooper) at night in an unfamiliar city, but I was frustrated by heavy snow and ice on the streets, and the car kept spinning out of control and when I would regain control, I was forced to go in directions not of my choosing. I drove down a narrow street in a district with very tall buildings and approached a crowd of people milling about in the street. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to stop and end up running over someone, but the car slowed of its own accord and turned into a pedestrian mall located in the space between two buildings. This was covered with a translucent canopy that kept out the weather. This place was crowded with people engaged in all kinds of wild carnival-type activity, and it resembled in appearance the "Flesh Fair" in the movie AI:
The car stopped and I got out of it, glad for the crazy drive to be over, but wondering what was going on in this place. WIldly costumed people gathered in little groups. Some of them danced and cavorted about. Everyone seemed to be speaking in the style of dialogue from a Shakespeare play, and a mood of general mirth pervaded the place. I wandered through the crowd and soon saw something rather startling: myself. "Uh oh!" I heard someone say. "He's not supposed to see you yet!" My twin approached me and said, "It's all right. It was almost time anyway." For some reason this image of me spoke in an English accent, and sounded pretty much exactly like Malcolm McDowell. While I was surprised to encounter this situation, it didn't feel as creepy as it seems to me now as I write about it. "Are you exactly the same?" I said to him. "Exactly," he replied, "Except for being artificial." I touched his face and his skin felt warm but perhaps a bit too smooth, probably because it was some kind of android skin. I felt through his clothing to see if he also had the same body piercings that I do. He did. "This is bloody brilliant," I said. And I think it was here that I woke up up, or at least enough for the dreamscape to fade away.
I really dig this idea of having a passable double to help me live my life. How great it would be if I could send him off to work a day job while I remained here to concentrate full-time on my publishing and writing activities. What would be even better is if it were a replica like those in David Brin's novel Kiln People where I could send him out in the world and then, when he returns at the end of the day, download his experiences into my own memory so that I would always know exactly what "I" was doing all day.
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