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Metropolis: 2014 Remastered

04/20/14

It starts out where I'm being helped by some friend of mine. I don't know his name, or even remember what he looks like. He's assisting me to escape these nameless men. Like drones - they're so scary to me. Even though they smile and never seem to do anything outwardly malicious infront of me. But somehow I just KNOW, I don't like them, or I know what they're capable of. They're like the men in black types, they don't seem to work for any one particular governmental agency, this is something far BIGGER. Any there's 'everywhere' - no wait, scratch that...it's not that there's a LOT of them, they just have the ability to BE anywhere they choose at the any appropriate time. It's like teleportation, distance matters little to them.

Even though outwardly they look as if what you would classify the typical 'agent' type, and they just seem evil and scary to me, one thing I remember quite clearly, my conscious mind wouldn't let me forget it upon waking up - they happen to be wearing bright neon sneakers. I've thought about this dream a LOT since it's happened to me and I've NEVER quite been able to figure that part out. What's with the damn funny looking sneakers, and why doesn't something so silly such as that make me laugh? All I am is frightened by these -- 'things'!

I'm trying to escape this huge metropolitan city, with a friend of mine. Again, I don't know who he is, but he's smart and brave and I trust him. I don't what city exactly we're supposed to be in - it could be any city. It's so hard to THINK here, my head is so compressed, I'm restless, I can barely sleep, barely relax, I'm exhausted. These 'people' want me for something, but the guy I'm with is my rescuer, whatever they're using me for, he's here to try and get me out. I don't wanna do it anymore. My guess is there's some sort of 'sexual abuse' involved?

My head's so full of noise, it's hard to focus on anything, and why won't these people just leave me the hell alone. Go away, I don't wanna be bothered anymore. I want the trauma to stop. I am eventually heartbroken and distraught. THEY KILLED HIM! The guy I'm with ends up dying, they end up killing him and I'm devastated. Even though I knew these people were evil, somehow it still surprises and shocks me that they could actually do that and get away with it. They would actually take it that far?!?

Somehow I end up escaping from the city. I wander outside and I meet some sort of hippie. Traveling vagrant, looks like he's basically stoned every minute of the day. You know the type? He doesn't seem to have any worries. He pays the 'things' no concern. He's not worried. Even though that to me makes him a bit naive, I still somehow find myself able to trust him. He could be my protector also?

As soon as we travel outside of the city and into the country and I wanna get as far away from those 'things' as I possibly can. I even devise a proposition with the 'dude' I'm traveling with that me and him travel from one absolute TIP of the continent to the next. I don't know what I hope to accomplish with this plan. As if I think I might be able to 'outrun' them if I run far enough away. -Back in the city, they seemed to be able to track me and my rescuer's every move, know what we're doing and where we are every minute of the day. They still seem to be capable of that in the country but to a LESSER extent. Thus, why I propose the plan to flee from one end to the southern tip of South America to the northern tip of the North, it's the only plan I can think of, stay on the move and make it harder for them to catch?

I had no idea just how much NOISE was in my head in the city until I get out into the country. All of a sudden my head is so much more decompressed. Like I can think again. And again, I just wanna stress how weird that is to me. How much being on the brink of tears all the time in the city, how much daily (hell, HOURLY - MINUTELY - SECONDLY, you get the picture) emotional trauma, just seemed to be a big part of routine every day life. Like, I knew there is something wrong with what these people are doing otherwise I wouldn't be resisting their attacks on me. But it's not until suddenly all that BOMBARDMENT of - I don't know how else to describe it, "NOISE" - is out of my mind, that suddenly for the first time I realize just how MUCH of that crap was in there to begin with. Back in the city there's this never-ending recurrence of "helplessness" and "futility" that I keep feeling, like there's no hope, no way out -- once I get out into the country it's like 85 to 90% of that is almost instantly, magically lifted from my being. I don't know how that's even possible?

Once I'm out of the city, the general feeling of music that I seem to encounter and experience and maybe even 'play' seems to revolve mostly around the acoustic guitar. It's like one man band, traveling poets type. Everything's so LOW-TECH y'know. Thus the kind of music I expect from a guy who's baked all the time. And I bring this up cause of what happens next:

The guy I'm with apparently either doesn't believe me or thinks I'm just being paranoid. It's like he's one of there Hakuna Matata types. And yet I'm still terrified...along the way as we're traveling back up north, we begin approaching DANGEROUSLY CLOSE to the metropolis again. I can see it's neon light pollution. And I get an ever deepening sense of dread. I actually just want to 'go around' the city, completely bypass it, but the guy won't listen to me. I keep trying to warn him but he won't deviate. Keeps telling me to chill out. --And it's like the closer we get, and thus, once we're actually right back in the city - even though this is a thinly populated OUTSKIRTS of the city - I am still INSTANTANEOUSLY bombarded with an assault of NOISE in my head again. Shitty music that just seems to make my head hurt and make me wanna cry or scream or behave irrationally. This music, it's so toxic, I can't believe people listen to this garbage, it's so bad for your health. It's like I can see that now, where as before I just found all those warnings to be an exaggeration. -I don't remember precisely what I'm listening to and I even remember trying to pick up the name of an artist or band name or something but the only thing I remember seeing was -not written down like a name- but the feeling maybe of Eminem, and he's sitting on the floor with his head tucked in the fetal position.

Then POOF!

As soon as we pass by back into the country again the trauma and the noise is suddenly LIFTED (it's like the dream is trying to tell me something?) -But our passing comes at a horrific price.

They kill the pothead too! I can't believe they would do that, he was innocent. What the hell's wrong with these people, it's 'me' they want. Why'd they have to do that? Nevertheless I end up surviving anyway, and I somehow manage to re-escape their grips, once again. I can't explain it, like a fight or flight reflex, on the one hand I feel critically guilty for my actions by this point now, but an instinctual part of me just reacts to wanna run away cause deep down a part of me still feels as though I OWE IT to the people who tried to protect me now to live to fight another day...I guess otherwise their deaths would be in vein, not to mentions these sickos would be permitted to continue doing what they're doing. Not that I'm all that confident there's truly a way to stop them. I feel so vulnerable and alone, I'm just me, and they're so powerful - and organized?!

But I'm starting to get sucked back in to the trauma again and feeling hopeless, I just need some desperate relief. I want out, I don't even know fully what it is I'm truly asking for or whether anybody can really understand me. I'm tired and under considerable stress!

I end up finding an experimental drug trial. Some group of doctors testing some sort of chemical out on a group of volunteers, and somehow I think "that's it" that's what I desperately NEED right now. I don't care what I have to do to get in. Somehow I manage to convince them to give me a shot of - what is it? They tell me the substance is ayahuasca, but it's weird, I always thought you drank it, or smoked it, not injected it? Regardless, that's the word they used. I tell them to dose me, and before they can give me the shot the doctor keeps insisting that the drug is for medical use only, not recreational. I get the sense in his words it's like he's concerned that the effects can be EXTREME for virgin users, like he's trying to SCARE ME out of taking it than anything else?

I think I tell him a phony illness that I have to convince him to give me the shot. Somehow I've convinced myself that doing this will either save me, or protect me, or at least provide me with the answers. Like I'm using it as some sort of last ditch effort security blanket. I just don't know where else to turn. --As soon as the drug hits me, to which I never even feel the needle being inserted, there's just a sudden RUSH of weightlessness, like everything, the whole wide world around me is suddenly unfixed and LIFTED from me. Sorta like a cloud feeling. And well, everything kinda fades out for a moment before shifting to the next scene so I never quite find out what happens during my trip and when I regain left brain function. (BY THE WAY: If the details of this post don't sound ANYTHING like an ayahuasca trip, please just cut me some slack. I've never done it before so my subconscious has no frame of reference, I'm just simply writing down what was in my dream, kay?!)

The next thing I remember is coming too in a hazy, bright colored fog. Like I'm spacing out and not taking anything really seriously. I don't care, even though I'm being aloof and inattentive to the situation, I just REALLY NEED this for a little while longer. I'm happy, everything's bright, nothing can hurt me cause I no longer have that big of concern over pain. Y'know, I'm totally having one of those "whatever" kind of attitudes right now. Complete passivity. (Though I know it can't last forever?)

That last thing I have written down amongst my notes is I guess how the dream fades out. The last thing I remember is finding my own way back out of town again. Hitching a ride with a farmer on the back of a truck or something. Going back to that simple ways again, the further out of town we get the more decompressed I begin to feel my head getting. Although for a moment there there's a brief moment of concern while attempting to get out. We pass by the scene of a traffic accident on the highway. And the closer we pass by the wreckage, the more -I can't explain it any other way- just this intense feeling of TRAUMA. Trauma radiating from the wreckage. Is it the trauma the passengers felt? Is it 'Them'? Did they really have anything to do with this?...

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