The first portion of the dream included an unusual point of view. I’m not sure that I can say if I can recall a dream wherein I’ve had a similar experience, actually; now that I’m thinking about it, it could have been some kind of “third-person” variant of the visual (film?) world. I was overlooking events as if from above. Other times, my point of view was “close-by” my avatar and other times, I looked through my own eyes. When I was far above, I was usually quite high in the air: I could see myself as a very small point and all around, the land stretched for great distances. I’m reminded of the times I’ve spent playing videogames – Final Fantasy’s world map view would be a good comparison to what this was like.
The terrain was all natural and the colour scheme was pretty dark: dark trees, lots of hills, mountains and dark-coloured water surrounded the land. I distinctly remember that the dream “scrolled” eastward as well, although I did not strictly travel as directly as that, given the environment; there were neither roads nor indication of any previous travelers who had come before me, actually. I don’t even really remember very well why it was that I started out to do this in the first place. I vividly remember the dark colours. This kind of colour scheme is frequently characteristic of my dreams of these recent past couple of years, I’m inclined to say.
Pressed to physically describe myself in the dream, I have difficulty. I want to say that I was blonde and straight-haired, male, early twenties (as I am) however more childish-seeming than older (as I am…). I wasn’t dressed to any particular time-period that I remember anymore. More on the topic of my “person”, I also remember that at a couple (or one?) of points in the dream, my view switched to another, videogame-specific sort: an “inventory” screen opened and replaced my view of the world entirely, but to inform me, rather than to obstruct my view (I’m thinking that if something like that happened for any other reason than that I was dreaming, I’d be a “nervous” kind of surprised. I’d probably be on drugs, actually).
That “inventory” screen was an important part of a turning point in the dream, but sadly, I do not remember events very exactly when it comes to this moment. I really wish that I did because it was a transition period. I never remember these “transition periods” very well, but they’re just so weird in nature that I can’t feel too badly about it. Anyway: there were three vacant spots in the shapes of armoured helmets on the screen, but a few moments prior, I had done something that awarded me (or I found it?) a particular helmet to fill one of the slots. However, good though this news was at the time, I then immediately encountered misfortune.
I wandered into an area of the land (overlooking like a bird, as described) that was somehow significant. At this point, I was also quite close to the coast, where I had been traveling towards. This region was significant for the danger it posed I’m guessing now. Anyway, I suffered some kind of defeat. I don’t recall any pain, any conflict and I don’t remember the consequence. I only remember my thoughts in the aftermath as I looked down at my avatar, noticed the helmet, and then observed the region of land. If I had to imagine the region as if looking through my own eyes, I would say that it was probably sparsely dotted with trees but densely bushy. There were ditches, bracken, exposed earth and overall… inappropriate for any bipedal creature. I don’t remember any wildlife either, but something tells me that some kind wildlife or some kind of animal was involved (probably involved at more than one point than this, too).
So, maybe I “died” at this point. Saying that feels uncomfortable. I don’t understand what happened, obviously, especially so because the dream didn’t quite finish there. When the dream continued, I found that I had remained in the same world and was destined towards the same locale. I’m pretty sure I was the same person, but I’m getting another hunch that it could just as easily been the opposite. Things took a drastic turn here just the same, as I was to finally reach my destination on the coast.
I was just in time for an exciting event, but I don’t know that I’d been anticipating it – anyway, I was just in time for some kind of “End of the World”. This part of the dream won’t take too long to describe, so before I do, I should include some other visuals that I remember. I remember coming to the edge of the water by way of a steeply inclined embankment. These weren’t beaches for lying towels down for tanning on: there were thick grasses, moss, crumbly earth, jagged rocks and the tide was lively. At sea-level, I could see a distant coast across what I guess was an inlet. There were buildings on the other shore, such as the urban sort that populate my Vancouver, BC. I don’t exactly think I was seeing some kind of “Vancouver” vision, but then again, I don’t know at all the role of these buildings. I could see their reflections on the water very vividly, as well; if I didn’t know any better, I would say that I was almost aware of the reflected light/colour of them as they shone on my face. It was like the kind of vivid, crisp reflections that strong because they are silhouetted against raging flames. I have noticed that when buildings burn at the edge of the water, their reflections on the water create a very particulate atmosphere. I think these buildings could represent ordered establishment – government? America? Something along those lines? All I did was regard them.
As for the actual end of the world, my vantage point was from a higher elevation. I was on a cliff, always on grass and always in view of the churning seas that surrounded the land. I remember the white waves and bubbling sea foam very well. Additionally, I also recall there being other people present, but I was feeling “unto” myself entirely: I was quite singular albeit; I couldn’t say that I felt connected to anyone or welcome anywhere. I was fine with that just the same, but I was in a state privy only to my own thoughts and observations. Things were in a hurry and hurrying up as the moments passed. Grass flew in the air, the wind picked up and the sky started to swirl.
There was also a single conflict between myself and another person, who I didn’t recognize. I have no idea what it was about or why it happened. It was resolved by the world ending either way, ha-ha. It was a female, but she could have been male – she had boyish proportions, engaged physical struggle with me (I find this behavior to be more masculine than feminine) and I can’t remember her voice, so she could have had a very deep voice for all I know. She was dark-skinned, dark-haired (seemed half-and-half Caucasian/Black) and wiry. When she stopped bothering me, she turned to the cliff and became preoccupied by the tumult of a shorn and shredded, swirling sky. She was standing at the edge of the cliff and seemed suddenly oblivious to me. I remember also the sound of wooden boats being destroyed on the rocks at the base of the cliff – I needn’t have approached the cliff to see though; the sea was such that the water was angled steeply so that I could see it’s surface displayed before me, even at my distance from the edge.
I watched the sky closely now. I noticed that particles of blue sky had been vacuumed upwards and were swirling away with increasing speed. I saw it and knew that the end of everything was imminent, but I wasn’t feeling fear. I watched the dark-skinned girl prepare herself with a foot halfway over the edge of the cliff, leap purposefully, but what followed was unexpectedly comedic. She belly-flopped into a half-submerged rowboat: it seemed that the vortex was approaching at a… definite speed and that our physics still applied insofar as it couldn’t reach. So she hit the water, picked herself up, I laughed privately to myself and she started to negotiate a second attempt. I was never to learn of her fate, but at that point, it didn’t matter to me.
the streams of coloured reality were so specific in their appearance that I’m afraid I will have trouble describing it. If you can imagine a speckled robin’s egg: the pattern of dappled, perceived colours would almost increasingly lose their integrity, become less fluid and less dynamic – less able to participate with the rest of the image of the world as a cohesive whole. It would be sucked, pulled, entwined upwards in selective streams or “strands” like twisting bands of candy being pulled and rolled towards the final product. Where the points of colour and light had been vacuumed, there was black. I remember feeling very excited. I was relieved for the event, but not in such a sullen or melancholy state as that might seem. I didn’t yearn for the end of my life. I wanted to be part of this process. I offered no resistance.
Of course, I would wake up at that moment…
OCCIPUT EYE 