ranierean
Virgil Texas of Chapo Trap House 🚬🚂🐇🦦🦭
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YMMV, no doubt, but for me the curve in lucidity has definitely been noticeable: it could just be a weird memory quirk, of course, but as a kid I would only remember seeing flashes. Dreams to me were always about a foreboding feeling. Now... I get to see, hear, and interact with things, “actually.”
It's a tower or a plane or an abandoned settlement, a beach, an RV, a moving traincar–a kind of a straight line, and so not really a thin allegory, I guess–everything feels ghostly and decrepit, it's all worn and oozing with time, even if it's identifiably the present …or something else… it's the future in the past, like the feeling you get from the ‘00s advertisements now.
The people there aren't really alive either: it’ll be a glimpse of somebody that I used to know ...here and there, maybe even of people that I can only feel as if I know them, but there's no confusion in me about them all being phantasms–when, much earlier in my life, I would struggle to pin down what they are exactly.
One of those times, this apparition (could've been multiple girls or women of multiple ages all as one) pierced right through me and vanished with a laugh that was a superposition of compassion and malignance. It's hard to explain.
...they're all stupid, never make sense narratively, but that's not even the point, and if I had to give them arcs, then they would simply be these really heavy-handed attempts at mirroring anxiety, loss of footing, of feeling life slipping through your fingers, etc. Not good.
It's a tower or a plane or an abandoned settlement, a beach, an RV, a moving traincar–a kind of a straight line, and so not really a thin allegory, I guess–everything feels ghostly and decrepit, it's all worn and oozing with time, even if it's identifiably the present …or something else… it's the future in the past, like the feeling you get from the ‘00s advertisements now.
The people there aren't really alive either: it’ll be a glimpse of somebody that I used to know ...here and there, maybe even of people that I can only feel as if I know them, but there's no confusion in me about them all being phantasms–when, much earlier in my life, I would struggle to pin down what they are exactly.
One of those times, this apparition (could've been multiple girls or women of multiple ages all as one) pierced right through me and vanished with a laugh that was a superposition of compassion and malignance. It's hard to explain.
...they're all stupid, never make sense narratively, but that's not even the point, and if I had to give them arcs, then they would simply be these really heavy-handed attempts at mirroring anxiety, loss of footing, of feeling life slipping through your fingers, etc. Not good.
