Assorted Dream Journal #2

Sweet dreams??

By Snarky LisaPublished about 20 hours ago • 6 min read

This is a collection of more dreams I actually remember! They are, once again, not related to each other (although one is related to a dream from a past journal, though you don’t need to read that one to understand this piece)! I have, once again, masked identifying details for privacy’s sake!

Let’s get into it…

Quinn’s Return

TLDR if you never read part 1: Quinn was a secret Discord friend I once had. They had a wholesome image throughout our friendship in their circles, circles I had to stay away from. However, it eventually came crumbling due to their mental instability, thus forcing them to leave the Internet. I dreamed one day they were back elsewhere far away. Alas, none of it was true.

It was the night of the March equinox. Before then, I had sent them a few DMs, spaced several days apart. They were mostly about mundane going-ons in my life and in the world like celebrations and people making a scene out of their gatherings.

Of course, I didn’t expect them to reply. They were gone from the Internet, after all, and their reputation was still in the trash can despite some recent distractions popping up on the investigators’ side. I guess I was just trying to cope by essentially sending something into the universe.

However, I did warn Quinn about one thing: the return of a wealthy guy they had once gotten on the wrong side of due to a misunderstanding. You see, this guy was once hated by everyone in Quinn’s old circles. I somehow managed to narrowly evade that era, but Quinn did not.

Regardless, he was rich.

When he eventually managed to re-earn his lost respect, he bragged about being able to sue people into oblivion. I was somewhat horrified.

While Quinn wasn’t exactly poor from what I knew of them, they also weren’t the kind of person to easily handle — either financially or emotionally — a real court with someone seriously lawyered up and with the kind of family support Quinn lacked. As such, I sent a message to Quinn trying to gently nudge them into perhaps apologizing or at least making formal preparations in case.

As winter turned to spring, though, Quinn was back.

They replied to all the texts I sent them when they were away — and the last one I sent them before they disappeared. They said they were okay enough, apologizing for not being able to reply to my messages.

Surprisingly, they didn’t completely lose their sense of humour. They quipped at some of the variety festivals I mentioned, lightly teasing both me and the phenomena in the first place for being rather traditional.

On a slightly darker note, they also failed to heed my warning about the wealthy guy they had wronged out of genuine miscommunication over a year prior. They mocked the guy, insinuating he was guilty and thus wouldn’t be able to do anything about them anyways.

Panicked, I tried to send them the news about his redemption and clearing arc. Unfortunately, however, my connection went out.

And then I woke up and realized none of it was real.

Guess Quinn ain’t responding to me after all, I lamented.

Belated Bias

The next day, I dreamt about a guy who I’ll call Mason. In real life, Mason was a jerk I didn’t really get along with back when we knew each other. The last time we really knew each other was also years ago, so he was more like a distant memory to me.

In the dream, though, we had to work together on a written project. As such, we reluctantly messaged each other in texts which eventually became less reluctant over time. We weren’t friends or anything close, but we grew to tolerate each other like we never really had before.

At some point, we got into a call together. It started out innocent enough — or at least, as innocent as any conversation with him could go. Unsurprisingly, however, things went south. We got into yet another argument. It was here where he retorted this:

“Are you just always biased against me?”

I honestly didn’t know how to respond.

In some fashion, I couldn’t completely shake off my impression of him from the past. He was a serial liar who treated me as a personal plaything, like a cheap fidget toy meant to be thrown out after its user gets bored of it. Once I could no longer entertain him back then, he played fast and loose with my secrets.

On the other hand, he had grown as a person ever since I reconnected with him. I mean, I never really got any apologies from him, and neither of us wanted to bring the ginormous elephant in the room up to each other. But he was a reliable colleague, and cordial enough to not repeat his past mistakes.

Before I could find a way to handle things, though, I snapped back to reality. The headset was gone, and so was any literal presence of Mason in my life beyond thoughts cropping up in my mind from time to time.

What time is it? I wondered, looking away from the clock.

Faith And A Stranger

FYI: This next part will contain spiritual themes. However, none of it should be taken as an incentive to try and convert me to anything. Any attempts to do so will be met with indifference at best and the mute or block hammer if you persist.

Thank you.

…

About a week later, I had a two-fold dream. It was very disorienting, to say the least. There were two interwoven storylines — in neither of which I felt like myself.

The first storyline had me become a devoutly religious girl all of a sudden. Why or how, I wasn’t sure, beyond a vague sense of calling another part of me had absolutely zero interest in taking. I was raised religious, but I had already lost faith at a young age. As it stands, I will likely never regain it.

Regardless, I felt like I had no control over the body I inhabited which had somehow become a vessel for a devotee. A devotee based on me, of course, but a severely altered copy nonetheless.

What am I supposed to do? I panicked, hoping to earn control of my anatomy again.

As the woman inside my figure muttered various prayers, I attempted to inject some high-energy thoughts into my head. Problem solving tasks, memories of daily stress, highly emotional past situations; the list went on. Unfortunately, my true self quickly became sedated: aware of existing, but unable to even think about…well, anything.

Eventually, the woman’s rituals were over. I felt a bit more control over myself, so I decided to check out my Medium. There, I came across a user who happened to have a similar name to a non-Medium creator I once knew through a few mutuals.

He was a social justice activist and, like basically everyone on Medium, a writer. I checked out some of his comments replying to me, and he seemed pretty nice — if rather distant. However, we had practically nothing in common beyond vaguely general worldviews and our decisions to write articles online.

Despite our differences, we somehow ended up corresponding over various public Medium comments and articles. I continually found myself baffled as to why I was messaging this guy. There was nothing wrong with him, per se. But he seemed just as uneasy around me as I was around him. It was as if a manager put a gun to my head to force me to jive with a co-worker.

Eventually, we got into an argument on Medium about writing technicalities. Formatting, argumentation: the like. In the meantime, the religious girl took over me again in my free time as well, leaving the increasingly heated tension on my Medium a strange sort of comfort to me.

Frustrated by the end of the day, I went to sleep. I then woke up in…well, reality. It took a few seconds for me to realize both the guy and the sudden zealot persona that took over me earlier were fake.

Whew, I sighed.

…

So these are my dreams. They were…interesting enough.

Any other thoughts on this? Let me know in the comments!