No matter how dream-experienced someone becomes, no matter how many dreams they learn to remember the details from, I think there will always be dreams which catch them by surprise and they struggle to remember. I had one such dream last night where I just assumed it was the normal mind processing stuff, adding in flavors of what my waking life was involved in, but then all the sudden I was in the middle of an epic scene and was completely unprepared to process it! Perhaps this was meant to be only a glimpse or perhaps it was my "in-character" self, but I fear it's because I grew complacent and not used to having such strong dreams (it's been a long run of mild/pleasant dreams for me, many months, and so in some ways I feel lulled or out of practice). Anyway, here's what I could remember of the action-and-thought jumble:
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Perhaps in our distant future there exists such mind-control technology or entities that whenever we begin to think independently, when we begin drifting back toward our intended state, a machine flies up to us, pins us to the ground, attaches to us, and effectively resets all our hopes and dreams to the state where they no longer motivate us, so that instead we are only able to do what we are told [I cannot remember exactly how that worked, sadly, but in the dream I just knew all that from past experience].
I saw this happen to a woman near me, poor thing! She had screamed how this wasn't right, and other things I don't recall because I wasn't really paying attention, just passing by.
I mean, it's pointless: she's "pacified" like all the others, pinned to the ground and the wicked-effective machine bulk over her will reset her. But out of the corner of my eye, I see her still struggling. That's odd. I turn my head and even take a step closer before I can help myself. Sure enough, it has its thin. dark metal pins through her outer shoulders and hips, and yet she is still struggling and actually *glaring* up at it. Instead of the glassy-eyes we've come to expect--she's glaring!
I don't know what comes over me. I am pushing the machine off her now that it seems to be the one in a daze, and I am making sure she is unhurt. The complex look in her eyes scares me and so I promptly forget it, even while helping her to her feet and avoiding her gaze. I know we must run and hide her, to find out how she could manage, so maybe--just maybe--this marvelous resistance can spread to others, to me. [But then I am elsewhere.]
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Only once awake did I recall the feeling that it must have been some kind of evolving. That after all we had lost of ourselves, there was some change that could evolve us if we let it or spread it, like the hope of being able to rise out of this impossible problem. And also I recognized this potential existing even today in how we resist forms of mind control, even within the stamping out efforts of cultures or religions or "governing"/fascist systems that try for complete control (or "submission" of self). I have long known this to be a form of slow-death, a draining away of human potential into something altogether pathetic and empty. And at the very least, this dream hinted at avenues even in the darkest times that could allow us to reclaim ourselves. The potential, at least, might still remain, and based on all I have witnessed, this is a comfort to me.
----
Perhaps in our distant future there exists such mind-control technology or entities that whenever we begin to think independently, when we begin drifting back toward our intended state, a machine flies up to us, pins us to the ground, attaches to us, and effectively resets all our hopes and dreams to the state where they no longer motivate us, so that instead we are only able to do what we are told [I cannot remember exactly how that worked, sadly, but in the dream I just knew all that from past experience].
I saw this happen to a woman near me, poor thing! She had screamed how this wasn't right, and other things I don't recall because I wasn't really paying attention, just passing by.
I mean, it's pointless: she's "pacified" like all the others, pinned to the ground and the wicked-effective machine bulk over her will reset her. But out of the corner of my eye, I see her still struggling. That's odd. I turn my head and even take a step closer before I can help myself. Sure enough, it has its thin. dark metal pins through her outer shoulders and hips, and yet she is still struggling and actually *glaring* up at it. Instead of the glassy-eyes we've come to expect--she's glaring!
I don't know what comes over me. I am pushing the machine off her now that it seems to be the one in a daze, and I am making sure she is unhurt. The complex look in her eyes scares me and so I promptly forget it, even while helping her to her feet and avoiding her gaze. I know we must run and hide her, to find out how she could manage, so maybe--just maybe--this marvelous resistance can spread to others, to me. [But then I am elsewhere.]
----
Only once awake did I recall the feeling that it must have been some kind of evolving. That after all we had lost of ourselves, there was some change that could evolve us if we let it or spread it, like the hope of being able to rise out of this impossible problem. And also I recognized this potential existing even today in how we resist forms of mind control, even within the stamping out efforts of cultures or religions or "governing"/fascist systems that try for complete control (or "submission" of self). I have long known this to be a form of slow-death, a draining away of human potential into something altogether pathetic and empty. And at the very least, this dream hinted at avenues even in the darkest times that could allow us to reclaim ourselves. The potential, at least, might still remain, and based on all I have witnessed, this is a comfort to me.