Dreaming in Digital

20230903 I signed up for American Idol, and was following Howie Mandel around long, concrete-painted white hallways in order to get to be ready for my performance. At one point, he turned to me and and told me to pick up “these trays” (they were lime green) and bring them to the judges panel. They were snacks for them.

20230827 I don't remember the first dream very well. Cookie and I were at his family's cottage with his other family circles. One family cancelled because one of their members wwre infected with COVID-19.

20230620 Somewhere in the countryside with a small group of strangers, Cookie's sister's family, and Spritz, we were led into a cave that went underground. There were zombies around that periodically came out of the many cavern paths, and we lost many of our group to them.

20230301 I visited my ChocoChip's new home. The living room was more like a long hall. At the far end was a white grand piano, with rows and rows of pews before it, like in a church. Cookie and I sat in the far back, a row before the last, as we waited for ChocoChip's daughter's piano recital to begin.

20230204

I had finished work and GrannySmith, and another girl worked with us. We closed the shop, which was a small bakery, and exited, looking for the fourth employee who worked with us. This girl was Samoan and overweight, but despite her nanny-like clothing, she was absolutely beautiful. I watched her stuff her feet into white high heels many sizes too small - her feet overflowed as if it were a cartoon.

Everything was underground; we never saw sky. We all entered the subway which had huge, metre-long, cream, laminate tiles. Everything was covered in this tile: the floor, the walls, the staircases and banisters. On the subway platform, I chatted with the other girl who had shoulder-length brown hair; GrannySmith had gone elsewhere. We hopped aboard the train that arrived. She lived on the last stop, and I had to meet Cookie who went out with the rest of Pfeffernüsse's groomsmen for some pre-wedding fun. On the second last stop, GrannySmith jumped on our train; she left earlier to do something. She talked about shoe shopping, and I thought about it too.

We made it to the end of the line. There was Cookie, waiting for me at the platform; he was waving goodbye to the group. I left the train with the girl and GrannySmith to join him. I don't remember how we were notified, but we weren't allowed to get back on the train or leave the station. Death appeared before everyone. He was seven feet tall, and his body and face were covered in a blood-coloured cloak. In one hand, he carried a shiny scythe. I watched him allow select people on the train, and the train leave back the way it came. Cookie was allowed on, and I watched him go.

The train came back the next day. There was sky above us and we weren't underground anymore. It was cream, like the subway tile, and hazy. My brunette friend said she forgot something on the train, and Death let her enter. I heard her scream, "ouch!", and a couple of minutes later, came out with an orange plastic bag in hand. Death studied her for a moment, then pointed to the train telling her, "go." She handed her bag to me and hastily obeyed. The train left for the day.

The train came back again the next day, and GrannySmith and I watched people get on, though we weren't allowed ourselves. I questioned why these people were allowed to enter the train. If Death was among us, I assumed the train led back to our everyday lives; I wanted to be on the next train. I opened the orange bag. Aside from an empty, white box, there was a pamphlet with a drawing of a woman breastfeeding. Her nipple was erect and exposed. Did my friend get hurt breastfeeding, and is that why she was allowed to leave? It didn't make sense to me.

This day, the train wasn't in the station. Death had gone for a little walk. There were pine trees surrounding us. The sky was still cream. GrannySmith was still here, and by now, the extrovert in her had died. In an instant, Death leaped over trees, bounding as quickly as he could to the few on the platform. "It's time."

He stood close to me. I bowed my head and closed my eyes as he hummed a rhyme repeatedly. Everyone seemed to know they lyrics except I. I hugged him and he hugged me. His bony hands ruffled the hair at the back of my head, then gently sliced it off with his scythe. My anxiety began to run through me. He sliced another handful of hair. I felt my heart drop, as if the beginning of a heartbreak, and my chest heaved heavy as I started to sob. His hands pulled my remaining hair into a neat bow on the top of my head.

The last line of the rhyme I heard before waking up was, "we are going to die."

I was at work, at a grocery store. One of my best mates at work, Honeycrisp, came to me and gave me a warm hug in greeting. I hugged him back and in the silence, I realized screamo was playing through my headphones. Embarrassed at my taste in music, I pulled away, saying I'd see him later.

I got to my station at the front, but found everyone at the registers were gone. I looked in another area and found everyone seated on the floor and listening intently to the person standing alone at the front. Everyone from the store were gathered and I didn't want to interrupt so I stayed in the back. I felt regret not following Honeycrisp earlier and I imagined he was near his department. When I found a spot to sit, a tall woman in a black, midi-length dress, and long, black wavy hair strutted in as if she had authority. Eyeing me, she walked past, stopping short of the end of the row before coming back. I looked up at her and she put her hands around my head. Her long, bony fingers were polished in black as they covered my ears.

"You'll do," she said. Her blood-red lips curved sinisterly upright.

I felt something pulled away from me, but I don't know what - it could be my soul, or an essence of something... I felt it pulled out like a slow breeze being pulled from my body, starting from my heart. It was warm at first, but it cooled, and I was left depleted and confused.

The real date of this dream is lost. I dated this dream by approximation.