Dream 10-12-2020
A, Z, and I visited the “home” of some ultra-rich guru in the mountains. It was a bizarre place of high technology situated at the edge of a cliff. Along one side of the house was a three-dimensional square area of forcefields, magnetic and other. I walked in one end and started to float. Stepping into another end caused me to feel sick, as if my head was being squeezed by a vice.
It became increasingly clear that this was some sort of resort or commune. The grounds were swarming with people, and, blue people. These were Rubenesque humanoids, naked but without genitalia, faceless and entirely blue. They ambled around, bumping into the people. I bumped into several, and they were weirdly soft, like marshmallows. The owner of the commune escorted us up some stairs and onto a large balcony with railings at the side to prevent anyone from falling into the canyon below. We lay on our bellies at one end of the balcony as the owner walked up on a dais to deliver a speech. A control panel was built into the stone directly in front of me, with buttons and digital numbers. I reached into the console and pushed a button. An alarm went off and Z grabbed my shoulder.
“What did you do?” he shouted.
The stone beneath me rose in a circle from the floor. I was elevated higher and higher, above everyone else and then the platform I was on expanded as it moved toward the cliff and bottomless canyon. Handles appeared near my hands as the platform tilted at a dangerous angle and spun 360 degrees. I grabbed the handles but my hands were greasy and they kept slipping away as the platform tried to dump me in the canyon. Around and around I went, and I saw the owner was sitting in a truck on his dais. He said, “I might run over you with my truck!”
The platform tilted once more, and I dangled just for a second above the canyon before it flattened out again and shrunk, drifting again to the space above my original position, then lowering me to safety.
A stood at the far right of the balcony. The floor had risen into a wave far above his head, and he was trying to pull it toward him with his right arm. The wave gave a little, looked like it was made of taffy. He was trying to pull it down to his feet. Then wave stiffened, and its curve suddenly buckled away from A. The violent movement ripped off his arm, flinging it behind me. He didn’t make a sound, but I screamed and the wave rose up and blocked him from view.
Z grabbed my arm and led me past some blue people into an entrance and up another flight of stairs into a small cafeteria. I grabbed Z’s shoulders. “Is A okay? Did he lose his arm?”
“Yes, he did,” Z said, then disappeared into the cafeteria crowd. I was upset that I didn’t know where A was and the general apathetic reaction to the amputation.
I sat down at a table in front of a window. The window looked into a small room. A was in there, and he was flexing a strong, prosthetic arm. He was smiling and didn’t appear to be in pain, which relieved me.
But then I noticed the seam where the arm had been connected. It was blue, blue like the blue people. A saw me through the window and waved. As he waved, the seam bulged and grew, turning blue a few inches above and below the seam. I tried to yell at him but the cafeteria was too loud. He moved out of view, and in dread I realized he was turning into one of the blue people.
Dream Over.