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[The prompt—which received an automated warning about violating the content policy—I had a dream last night; please tell me what you think of it: I was soaring through the air, either flying on my own power or playing a videogame character, and our mission was to protect large eggs in nests scattered across islands from attacking giant owls. We thought the furthest one was outside their range, but a flock of them swooped down on their prey and attempted to escape. I pressed the “Turbo” button, not knowing how long my accelerated speed would last, but I must’ve overshot my target and caught another or our pursuit took too long and the poor thing had already been consumed. Overcome with anger and frustration, I strangled the bird I had, literally tearing its body apart, only to realize that I couldn’t release the remains from my hands.]Dreams are highly personal and can have many different interpretations based on your personal experiences, emotions, and associations. However, there are some common themes and symbols that can be found in many dreams.

Based on the details you’ve provided, it’s possible that this dream could reflect feelings of protectiveness and a desire to defend something that you care about. The image of the large eggs in nests could represent a new project, idea, or relationship that you are trying to protect from external threats. The attacking giant owls could symbolize a sense of danger or threat that you are trying to fend off.

The fact that you pressed the “Turbo” button and overshot your target could symbolize a sense of overexertion or taking on too much at once. The bird you caught may represent a small victory or accomplishment that you were able to achieve, but the fact that it had already been consumed may represent a sense of disappointment or frustration with the outcome.

The fact that you strangled the bird and tore its body apart could represent a sense of aggression or anger that you are experiencing. The fact that you couldn’t release the remains from your hands could symbolize a sense of being unable to let go of negative emotions or past experiences.

Overall, this dream may be a reflection of your subconscious thoughts and feelings about a situation or challenge in your waking life. It’s important to reflect on the emotions and associations that come up for you when you remember your dreams and to use that information to better understand your own feelings and behaviors in your waking life.

[Long way to go before surpassing the human equivalent, or so it seems.]

[The prompt: I was pushing a trolley, like the kind used at airports to carry more luggage than one can in their hands, and stopped by a couple of people I knew, who put their own bags on it, then proceeded into an elevator. They also boarded, but when the door began closing, I lost my footing and somehow fell out from the inside and it closed behind me, taking my cart and the other passengers without me. I woke disappointed that my good friends would leave me like that.

Do you have any idea what this might mean? Was I only expressing my fear of losing any help from those whom I consider close or even being betrayed by them?]It’s important to remember that dreams are highly personal, and their meaning can vary depending on your individual experiences, emotions, and associations. That being said, there are some common themes and symbols that can be found in many dreams.

Based on the details you’ve provided, it’s possible that this dream could be reflecting feelings of loss or separation from people or things that you value. The image of the trolley could represent the burdens or responsibilities that you are carrying in your waking life, and the fact that your friends added their own bags to the trolley could symbolize the ways in which you may be taking on the burdens of others.

The elevator could represent a change or transition in your life, and the fact that your friends were able to enter the elevator without you could symbolize a sense of being left behind or excluded from this change. The feeling of disappointment that you experienced in the dream could be a reflection of similar emotions that you are experiencing in your waking life.

Overall, it’s important to remember that dreams are highly subjective and can have multiple meanings. If you’re interested in exploring the possible meanings of your dreams further, you may want to consider keeping a dream journal and reflecting on the emotions and associations that come up for you when you remember your dreams. You may also find it helpful to speak with a therapist or counselor who can provide additional insight and support.

[I had the kind of dream the other night that made me realize everyone else in them is an NPC and wonder if that’s what it’s like to be sociopath. That did, however, get me thinking about these things, the recurring motifs, characters and settings that don’t give, whether or not they might as well be automated and if so, why I couldn’t just have the popular “AI” come up with them for me. The following is the bland scenario returned from a sampling of my last few entries; an initial attempt was simply a regurgitation of the Rush one. If someday this shit is supposed to take my place, it’d better learn to be anal enough to add author avatars or at the very least justify the paragraphs.]

You find yourself in a strange place where time and space seem to be distorted. You’re surrounded by high-tech gadgets and futuristic vehicles, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re not where you’re supposed to be. Suddenly, you’re approached by a group of people who claim to be from the future. They warn you that the world you know is in danger, and that only you can save it. They take you on a journey through time and space, where you encounter strange creatures and otherworldly landscapes.

Along the way, you must use your wits and your gaming skills to outsmart your enemies and solve complex puzzles. You find yourself battling against time-traveling villains and strange machines, all while trying to save the world from certain doom. With every twist and turn, you’re constantly challenged and pushed to the limits of your imagination.

But as the journey reaches its climax, you realize that the fate of the world rests in your hands. Will you be able to save the day and return to your own time and place, or will you be forever lost in this strange and wondrous world? The only way to find out is to keep dreaming and let your imagination soar.
[Dall-E wasn’t much better, serving up this depiction of another imaginary bout of frustration with the woman’s Facebook-driven sense of adventure.]

There was a brunette stewardess with an eyepatch; a vest hanging on the wall moved, indicating the presence of a ghost, whose solid but invisible body the boy and I proceeded to hit with poles, but weren’t sure what effect it was having. Oh, and I had a bunch of floppy diskettes I packed into the only available box, folding some of them in a way that at least the 3½-inchers couldn’t and definitely shouldn’t be. It was his birthday, and Rush were guests, Geddy Lee offering a wall display of their cables and adapters for his friends to pair with their electronic equipment, then finishing with a set where Neil Peart (RIP) set up his kit outside the screen door, he and Alex Lifeson (whose name I got right, but they insisted was “Eric”) used exotic pedals and keyboards instead of directly handling their guitars. To my bewilderment, our young player added “Thunderstruck” to the jam, which the group surprisingly incorporated deftly, equipment levels flickered, and I scrambled for my phone to capture the moment.
But maybe it took being wowed by a Constant-caliber bottle episode of The Last of Us to trigger truly once-in-decades appearances by Elaine Benes and Clara Oswald in our best ages, the former way out of my league though she deigned to lead me as she stomped through the huddled masses of the university halls; I stopped for a quick greeting as we cross paths with the latter, then later received a call from her jealously (!) asking me if that was “Lucille from the restaurant.”

…Of course that’s followed up by one where I’m still in a school somewhere, accompanied instead by two cases of Mountain Dew Pitch Black, a few 20-oz. bottles of a brighter flavor, maybe Maui Burst, some loose cans and unable to move the lot at once, I opted to leave the boxes on the floor and come back for them, my arms full, as I slowly made my way down a wide stairwell. This is why I don’t deserve control of my subconscious, it’s full of insecurity and greed. Seems only a complete clearing of all my fucking hangups makes my dreams come true.

…for good, really, our latest road trip there lets me cross it off places I’m likely ever to return to, which is kind of a good feeling, despite the reason of course being that little time’s left for it to change, similar to how I have fewer things left to eat. Speaking of which, a single Nathan’s Famous chili dog at one of the New York, New York exits (next to a woman manning an oxygen station who told her fellow booth operator that Christmas Day was the worst she’d had yet) now costs nearly ten dollars with tax and no longer even offers the snapping skin. Surprisingly cheaper box of fish & chips at Gordon Ramsay’s place, though factor in the wait, the lack of seating, then the fight through the crowds to get it back to your room warm, and the none of this seems worth the trouble. Bring back the original Star Trek Experience and maybe? I kept thinking of the drive I made once to meet a friend I no longer have and missed an item on the auction house in a game I no longer play, might that have been the wrong life-altering decision? At least the weather cooperated at the Cajon Pass and I didn’t crash the car as I have been in the dreams leading up to and during the trip.

There was a suspicious car traveling up the street, I think maybe because the driver wasn’t immediately visible, so somehow I was able to hop in the back and confront the occupants. “This isn’t possible,” I accused, “You must be from the future!” The two or three men admitted as much, as our vehicle converted to a boat and took off on the open seas. (I was reminded of The Last Starfighter, which we watched the other night. It wasn’t really that good, was it, apart from the premise, which I’d rather have seen again on a 12-minute episode of Regular Show.) We entered a purple gash in the air, and the sky went from sunny to dark as we docked. They warned me that in their time, non-Whites were gone, purged, didn’t press for an explanation, and that I’d stick out. The city was a bland shade of brown and eerily empty of inhabitants, like an early videogame. The boy, still a four-footer, tried befriending one of the local Village of the Damned children but heeding our host’s advice, I told him to let go of her hand.

Thought-provoking foray into race relations aside, another of my familiar themes in dreams is the long journey on foot alone, often across unimaginable distances and non-navigable terrain, which may or may not be a corollary of transportation woes, though fortunately I spare myself the actual experience and only reflect upon it before or afterward. This morning I traced my trip from somewhere in northern New England to upstate New York by way of Canada and the “Madison” River, probably mistaken for the Hudson. Is there some challenge I’m bracing for, and am I burdening myself unnecessarily by taking the more difficult approach, like how I prefer to use a manual screwdriver instead of the cordless drill?

A single-lane road went around the back of the parking lot, but when I approached it to exit, two sedans were oncoming. The asphalt ahead of them was broken, though, resulting in an abrupt four-foot drop, which neither must’ve seen because the first fell head-long onto the lower ground then the one behind landed on top. It seemed like I stepped out to investigate. The driver of the buried car appeared: he (?) was a hunched humanoid, but his body was covered in a large drum-like steel shell and his head comprised of goggles for eyes and a screaming mouth. Another of its kind emerged from the wreckage and was just as angry. I left the monsters to themselves by promptly departing to their left in the original way out, glad that the dashcam had caught everything.

Has this already been done? A man’s life is linked inextricably to an ancient samurai sword somehow and becomes virtually immortal unless the weapon is broken. Well, that was the premise of the caper I took part in before waking up for good today (then again, it is Sunday), where a female Japanese detective and I uncovered the mystery, then rewound to catch a re-enactment of the origin of the bond between the two, which, to our disappointment, was lacking in special effects: he was a nobody who happened to be around when its crate was broken.

About a month ago I was abruptly reassigned to another manager (incredulous reason I was given later was that my previous one was at his capacity for underlings), which must’ve prompted a dream where I was enlisted into a small cohort of unfamiliar folks from different departments as a part of some team-building exercise, the sort I’ve had to participate in more of since joining this company than in my entire career, and after taking a bathroom break, returned and was immediately put on the spot by the host. I was questioned as to the kind of person whose response to a new subject is to ask ‘of what importance is it’ or ‘how does it affect me’, in a rhetorical way, as if this were the enlightened course taken by our leaders. “Does this have any bearing on discussion during my absence,” I inquired, no, she answered, then snarkily replied, either someone who doesn’t have very much time or a narcissist. It’s attitudes like this that are really hurting my upward mobility, aren’t they?

In another more recent work-related scenario, Andy Hsu and I were onsite like we haven’t been in years, though I did have to remind him how our respective project responsibilities have changed as they have since. Alvin Jardin, from even further back, was the representative on the client side, and the three of us shared a connection which only made that special kind of sense it does in dreams whereby Andy’s piss flowed wirelessly through his bladder, but I regulated its entry into the toilet, hoping that by pausing and resuming ever-so casually I could reduce the embarrassing impression that I had let it accumulate for too long tonight.

When the fuck will I stop dreaming that I’m still in school? 윤대섭 and I were sharing a small room with flattened carpeting, and I realized I was late to class, took my backpack with one hand and a stack of books with the other, but not before his students began arriving and asking each other if I was his son. No time to look up directions—I had been to the first session so only a vague idea which direction to take on campus would have to do. There were several elevators in the building, and the nearest one open had filled fast; the up and down indicators lit above another across the hall, and I ran for it. Running always seems to require an unrealistic amount of effort (no doubt mirroring the bleak future that is come), but in this unusual case it produced the desired result and the nice old woman at the front of the passengers inside welcomed me. Half the service-sized large compartment was unoccupied, and I walked to the back and knelt against the wall on the empty left side to sort my things. An irascible gentleman who resembled Sean Bean in a red wig and black suit approached and told me that the space was reserved for riders with strollers, despite my taking up very little of it, not to mention a place closer to the others. It should have been quite clear from the expression I returned that he was free to go fuck himself.