kits-weirdass-dream-journal

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

Part 3! (unredacted version here)

I forgot to mention, date of origin for all this is May 25th, 2022.

I've been following the pink-haired girl for a little bit now. I think she said where she was going, but it- I cant seem to remember. The boy didn't follow us out of the -The Library, so I guess he's doing something. I hope I'll get to see him again.

I wonder where we're going. The others, two boys with matching blue and green streaks in their hair, are chatting quietly behind me, and I almost don't notice when they speak up to try to get my attention.

"Hey, hey wait, what's you're name?" asks one, and I turn to look at him in surprise.

"My name?" but before I even finish speaking, I can feel a white fog creeping at the boundaries of my mind.

"Yeah, I'm Hickory, and this is Gale."

My steps slow to a halt.

My ████.

My name.

I have to have one, right? Everyone has a name.

"Or, you know, you don't need to say?" Hickory backtracks gently, "it's fine, if you don't want to-"

"I want to."

"-Oh,"

"I... Uh," the white fog is pressing against the backs of my eyes, my throat. I need ██ ████████, I need to, "I ... My ████, I don't... I can't..."

Hickory waits █████████, but instead of lying I say badwrong words.

"█ ███'█ ████████."

"Oh." Hickory seems taken aback.

█████. I did bad, █████. █ forgot, █████. █████ I'll lose ████████ ████ █████ █ even ███████ █████ █ ██████ I ████ knew ███?

"██████ ████." Hickory ████.

███ ███ bad █ ██████ ████ ██████ I should ██ █████ ████ ██ ███ goddamn ████.

█████ ███ ███████

███ █████ █ ████ █████████ █████ ██████ ██ ██ ████ ██ ███ ████ ███ █████ ████ fighting ███████ ███ ████ to think ███ ███ █████ ███████████ ███ ████ ████ ██████ ████ ████ ████ █ █████████ ██████ ██████ ██ ██ ██████████ ████ ███████ ████ ███ ██ ██ █████ ████ ███ fog ███ ██ █████ █ █████ choke ███ █ █████ ████ ███ ████ ████ █ ████ ██ ████ █ couldn't breath ████ ████ ██ ██████ ███████ ███ ██ ██ █████ ███████ ████ █ ████ ██████ ███ ███-

I am looking into someone's eyes. I am breathing sharp, jagged breaths, and there are hands on either side of my face, and I am sitting on the floor with my back pressing into the sharp edges of a bookshelf as I look into someones eyes. They are dark and worried, but the worry is starting to ease as I try to steady my breathing.

"Hey," she says.

"Hi," says I.

She smiles, then. And for once I'd be okay with forgetting everything that just happened, if only I could remember that smile forever.

"Can you stand?"

I nod, and when I start to push myself up she lends me her hand.

"I'm Kaydee, and this is dinner."

I barely register her words before the smell hits me. She pulls me to the end of the hallway, to a space where the shelves pull away and reveal a cozy seating area, a big wooden table, and behind that a stone countertop that marks the divide into a bright, warm, kitchen. And there, on the table, are four plates of delicious smelling food.

The person from the front desk comes out of the kitchen carrying two more plates as we approach, smiling as they see us.

"Right on time!" they say, eyes drifting over us. "Well, you lot are on time anyway. There's always a few who decide to show up late." they frown a little bit as they set down the plates, but their smile returns almost immediately upon seeing me. "And you! I was hoping you'd be joining us, sorry we didn't get an introduction earlier. I'm Veisi." they stick out their hand at me, and I freeze as I'm shaking it for just a minute before speaking.

"I'm, uh," still shaking their hand, still don't have an answer. "I'm..."

"staying with us for a little bit."

I nod vigorously and silently thank Kaydee for saving me. I finally let go of Veisi's hand. He looks at Kaydee blankly for a moment, then flicks his eyes back to me as the smile returns full force.

"Let's eat before anything else, yeah?"

This dream has an unreliable narrator who has weird memory blocks, which I wrote then redacted. This is the dream from the character's POV, if you want the unabridged omniscient POV this is the link.

I am running, and then I am falling. I didn't expect to start falling, but explosions will do that to people. Make them fall, I mean. Among other things. Well, at least I'm not on the rooftops anymore. I don't have a problem with heights, but I was starting to run out of places to -well, run.

I don't think they meant to make me fall that far though, they want me alive, for... Something.

Anyway, I'm falling, and then I hit something... Soft? That's a surprise, but then I'm rolling and the ground is hard again.

I look up, expecting to see the goons chasing me lining the rooftop, and I do see that but I also see eyes. There is a boy, my age, laying on his back and looking up at me in surprise.

Oh.

Soft.

I look back up but they're not following me yet. They need to wait for... For my... For someone. For their boss? Yes, yes their boss. He's a mob boss, and they are his mob.

I'm about to run again when I feel a soft hand on my arm. Warm.

"I know somewhere to hide."

---

He runs fast, his blonde hair shining in the dim sunlight. He's more nimble than I would have expected for just having been knocked over onto hard cement pavement. He brings me around a few corners- just out of sight of my pursuers- until we reach a... Bookstore? It has a lot of books, anyway. All of the buildings around are the same, flat beige brutalist design, and though this one is much the same above the first floor, its frontage has a recessed enterance between two large glass displays, all surrounded and set into a rich, dark, carved wood façade. Through the window is only a single desk with a lamp, backed by a tapestry and enshrined in a multitude of densely packed bookshelves that lead back into hallways of even more books on even denser shelves. He held my arm lightly- guidance, not restraint,and pulled me in to the front doors.

A small bell rang as we entered, and as we moved to hide further into the shelves of books a young person with dyed purple-green hair came out from a curtain behind the desk. The boy I was with made a quick gesture, and the person immediately turned serious. They nodded once and turned their sharp gaze on the window, jaw setting as if just that easy they knew what was happening.

We turned a corner, losing sight of the desk and the windows alike, and were surrounded by nearly endless aisles of bookshelves. We didn't move for much longer before we were stopped by someone- a friend of the boy, i'm sure, with how his shoulders relaxed at the sight of her.

She had long brown hair with dyed pink highlights pulled up into a bun. Yellow glasses (that matched her yellow blouse) rested on her nose, and she pushed them further up her face as she spoke.

"Veisi sent out a code three. What's happening."

"We're being chased- well, she's being chased."

"So you brought her here?"

"Its safe," the boy said, almost defensively.

"Is it?" she eyed me carefully. My white shirt and leggings had not been white since I... Since, ████... ██████. █ ███ ███? ████ ████ █ ████, █████████. My feet were bare and dirty, my hair was shoulder length and chaotic. I don't know what she thought of me. █ ███'█ ████ ████ ██ █████ ██ ██████ ██████.

"Come along." she said finally, and led the way further into the shelves.

We reached a narrow stairwell, and on the next level we met two more people- all about the same age as the boy I had met, ███ ██████ I think. They are probably all about 16 or 17? 18 or 19 at the oldest, if anyone looked young. They caught up with us and tagged along behind, whispering with the boy as I followed the pink haired girl.

I wasn't listening very close. There was still an urgency to how I was being herded along, but I wasnt being chased anymore, not in the manner I had been. It was a relief, and my mind started fading into thoughtlessness as I let go of some of the pressure that had been keeping me moving until now. I didn't notice how little energy I'd had left until then.

As we travelled, the books somehow got even denser, piling onto to floor and crowding the already hazardously narrow walkway. When, eventually, we reached a place that wasn't all narrow winding maze, the pink-haired girl leading the way turned and leveled her gaze on me. The soft hand on my arm never wavered.

She spoke with a calmness that was mirrored by the other people gathering around us. Everyone had at least one color in their hair, even the boy had white feathering that nearly blended in with his pale blonde hair.

"We pride █████████ in offering ████ ██ █████ ███ ████ ██, but we need ██ ██████████ more ██ ███ █████████. ███ ███ ███ █████ ██████ █ ███ ███"

I opened my mouth to speak, but could not. ████ █ ████ ██████ ███████ ██ █ ████ ████ ████ ███ ████ I know how, █ ████ ████ ██ █████████ █ ███ ██████

█████ ███ ██████ ████████ ██ ██████ ███ ████████ █ ███ █████ Can I answer her?

████████ ████ ██████████ █ █████████ ██ █████ █████ ███ ██████ █ ███ ██████ ██ ████ ████████ ████ ████████ ███████ I don't ██████ ██ █████ ███████ ████████████ ███ ████████ ██ know██

███████ █████ ███ ██ ██ █████ ███████ ██ ████████ ████ the █████████ █ ███ █ secret ████ ████ ███ ██████ ████

███ ███ ██ ███████ ███ ████████

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████████ ██████ ██████████ ████ █████████ ██ ███

██ ████

█████ ███████ ███ █ ████████ I'm a ████████ ████ ████ ███ █████ ██ █ false █████████ █ ███ █████ ██ █████████ ███ ████ ████ █ ███████ ██████ ███ ████ ███ █ ███████ ████ ███████ ██████ ██ ███████ █ ████ ██ ███ promise ██ ███████ ███

████ █████ ████ ██ █████████ ████ ███████ ███ █ ████ ████████ ███████ ██ ████ ███ █ ██████ ████████ ████ ████ ███ ███████ █ ████ ████ ███ ████ ███ █████ ████ ███ ████████ ████ ████ ██████ ██ ███ ███ █████ ██████ ██ ███ █████ ███ █ ████ ██ ███ ███ ████ ████ ████████ ██ ███ ██

"Look." Says the boy.

I open my eyes and see warm lights, and warm faces, and a pair of warm eyes looking down at me.

What was I just saying? I.. Forget. I must have fallen asleep. I am so very sore, made of bruises and the painful exaustion of overused muscles. But here I feel safe, in these soft arms. "It's going to be okay."

I believe him.

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

Part 3, other (correcter) version here

Date of Origin: May 25th 2022

I've been following the pink-haired girl for a little bit now. I think she said where she was going, but it- I cant seem to remember. The boy didn't follow us out of the -The Library, so I guess he's doing something. I hope I'll get to see him again.

I wonder where we're going. The others, two boys with matching blue and green streaks in their hair, are chatting quietly behind me, and I almost don't notice when they speak up to try to get my attention.

"Hey, hey wait, what's you're name?" asks one, and I turn to look at him in surprise.

"My name?" but before I even finish speaking, I can feel a white fog creeping at the boundaries of my mind.

"Yeah, I'm Hickory, and this is Gale."

My steps slow to a halt.

My name.

My name.

I have to have one, right? Everyone has a name.

"Or, you know, you don't need to say?" Hickory backtracks gently, "it's fine, if you don't want to-"

"I want to."

"-Oh,"

"I... Uh," the white fog is pressing against the backs of my eyes, my throat. I need to remember, I need to, "I ... My name, I don't... I can't..."

Hickory waits patiently, but instead of lying I say badwrong words.

"I don't remember."

"Oh." Hickory seems taken aback.

Great. I did bad, again. I forgot, again. Maybe I'll lose Hickory, too. Would I even notice? Would I forget I even knew him?

"That's ok." Hickory says.

Bad bad bad I should know things I should at least know my own goddamn name.

"Hey, you there?"

Why can't I keep anything? Every moment of my life in the past six weeks time fighting through fog just to think and for what, endangering the only nice people I've ever met? I should've stayed locked in my plexiglass cage letting them hum at me everytime the fog got so thick i could choke but i never did, no, even when I felt so numb i couldn't breath they kept me going, waiting for me to start working like a good little cog and-

I am looking into someone's eyes. I am breathing sharp, jagged breaths, and there are hands on either side of my face, and I am sitting on the floor with my back pressing into the sharp edges of a bookshelf as I look into someones eyes. They are dark and worried, but the worry is starting to ease as I try to steady my breathing.

"Hey," she says.

"Hi," says I.

She smiles, then. And for once I'd be okay with forgetting everything that just happened, if only I could remember that smile forever.

"Can you stand?"

I nod, and when I start to push myself up she lends me her hand.

"I'm Kaydee, and this is dinner."

I barely register her words before the smell hits me. She pulls me to the end of the hallway, to a space where the shelves pull away and reveal a cozy seating area, a big wooden table, and behind that a stone countertop that marks the divide into a bright, warm, kitchen. And there, on the table, are four plates of delicious smelling food.

The person from the front desk comes out of the kitchen carrying two more plates as we approach, smiling as they see us.

"Right on time!" they say, eyes drifting over us. "Well, you lot are on time anyway. There's always a few who decide to show up late." they frown a little bit as they set down the plates, but their smile returns almost immediately upon seeing me. "And you! I was hoping you'd be joining us, sorry we didn't get an introduction earlier. I'm Veisi." they stick out their hand at me, and I freeze as I'm shaking it for just a minute before speaking.

"I'm, uh," still shaking their hand, still don't have an answer. "I'm..."

"staying with us for a little bit."

I nod vigorously and silently thank Kaydee for saving me. I finally let go of Veisi's hand. He looks at Kaydee blankly for a moment, then flicks his eyes back to me as the smile returns full force.

"Let's eat before anything else, yeah?"

Version of this dream without the redacted memories

I am running, and then I am falling. I didnt expect to start falling, but explosions will do that to people. Make them fall, I mean. Among other things. Well, atleast I'm not on the rooftops anymore. I dont have a problem with heights, but I was starting to run out of places to -well, run.

I don't think they meant to make me fall that far though, they want me alive, for... Something.

My memories get distant sometimes, I think. Like feathers that flutter away from my grasping hands any time I reach for them.

Anyway, I'm falling, and then I hit something... Soft? Thats a surprise, but then I'm rolling and the ground is hard again.

I look up, expecting to see the goons chasing me lining the rooftop, and I do see that but I also see eyes. There is a boy, my age, laying on his back and looking up at me in surprise.

Oh.

Soft.

I look back up but they're not following me yet. They need to wait for... For my... For someone. For their boss? Yes, yes their boss. He's a mob boss, and they are his mob.

I'm about to run again when I feel a soft hand on my arm. Warm.

"I know somewhere to hide."

---

He runs fast, his blonde hair shining in the dim sunlight. He's more nimble than I would have expected for just having been knocked over onto hard cement pavement. He brings me around a few corners- just out of sight of my pursuers- until we reach a... Bookstore? It has a lot of books, anyway. All of the buildings around are the same, flat beige brutalist design, and though this one is much the same above the first floor, its frontage has a recessed enterance between two large glass displays, all surrounded and set into a rich, dark, carved wood façade. Through the window is only a single desk with a lamp, backed by a tapestry and enshrined in a multitude of densely packed bookshelves that lead back into hallways of even more books on even denser shelves. He held my arm lightly- guidance, not restraint,and pulled me in to the front doors.

A small bell rang as we entered, and as we moved to hide further into the shelves of books a young person with dyed purple-green hair came out from a curtain behind the desk. The boy I was with made a quick gesture, and the person immediately turned serious. They nodded once and turned their sharp gaze on the window, jaw setting as if just that easy they knew what was happening.

We turned a corner, losing sight of the desk and the windows alike, and were surrounded by nearly endless aisles of bookshelves. We didn't move for much longer before we were stopped by someone- a friend of the boy, i'm sure, with how his shoulders relaxed at the sight of her.

She had long brown hair with dyed pink highlights pulled up into a bun. Yellow glasses (that matched her yellow blouse) rested on her nose, and she pushed them further up her face as she spoke.

"Veisi sent out a code three. What's happening."

"We're being chased- well, she's being chased."

"So you brought her here?"

"Its safe," the boy said, almost defensively.

"Is it?" she eyed me carefully. My white shirt and leggings had not been white since I... Since, when... Before. A day ago? Less than a week, certainly. My feet were bare and dirty, my hair was shoulder length and chaotic. I don't know what she thought of me. I don't know what to think of myself either.

"Come along." she said finally, and led the way further into the shelves.

We reached a narrow stairwell, and on the next level we met two more people- all about the same age as the boy I had met, and myself I think. They are probably all about 16 or 17? 18 or 19 at the oldest, if anyone looked young. They caught up with us and tagged along behind, whispering with the boy as I followed the pink haired girl.

I wasn't listening very close. There was still an urgency to how I was being herded along, but I wasnt being chased anymore, not in the manner I had been. It was a relief, and my mind started fading into thoughtlessness as I let go of some of the pressure that had been keeping me moving until now. I didn't notice how little energy I'd had left until then.

As we travelled, the books somehow got even denser, piling onto to floor and crowding the already hazardously narrow walkway. When, eventually, we reached a place that wasn't all narrow winding maze, the pink-haired girl leading the way turned and leveled her gaze on me. The soft hand on my arm never wavered.

She spoke with a calmness that was mirrored by the other people gathering around us. Everyone had at least one color in their hair, even the boy had white feathering that nearly blended in with his pale blonde hair.

"We pride ourselves in offering help to those who need it, but we need to understand more of the situation. Why are you being chased? Who by?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but could not. Have I ever spoken before? Do I know how? Yes, I'm sure I know how, I just need to remember. I try again.

"I.." the single syllable is rough, but present. I can talk. Can I answer her?

"They... Want something. I think..." my mouth opens and closes a few times, my brow furrows. They exchange glances I dont catch. "I think theres ...something I'm supposed to know."

Theres white fog in my head, filling my thoughts with the abscences. I its a secret they want the answer to."

The fog is thicker and thicker.

"They... They're following me for someone else, their boss. He's my..." my head hurts

"He's... My..." something. He's something to me.

To who?

"I... I'm..." I'm a mistake. I'm a creation made from the flesh of a false prophecy. I was borne of suffering and have died a hundred deaths and will die a hundred more without giving or gaining a hint of the promise of freedom of-

Soft hands hold my shoulders from behind, and I dont remember closing my eyes and I should probably lean away but instead I lean back and then I'm being held and warmsoft arms wrap around me and I'm being pulled to the floor and i need to sit and then he's cradling me and oh

"Look." Says the boy.

I open my eyes and see warm lights, and warm faces, and a pair of warm eyes looking down at me.

What was I just saying? I.. Forget. I must have fallen asleep. I am so very sore, made of bruises and the painful exaustion of overused muscles. But here I feel safe, in these soft arms. "It's going to be okay."

I believe him.

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

Once again, this has redacted bits. (unredacted version here.) In addition to her own memories being unreliable or absent, there's magic fuckery that locks some of her memories away. I would recommend, actually, reading both versions if you're up for it. If not, either will give you the full experience in one way or another. There is a LOT of censor in this on though, sorry.

Things are going to be okay.

The words echo like a promise in my mind as I am led once more through a maze of winding bookshelves and narrow staircases. I am brought to an intersection that, at first, looks like any other. Then, the light shifts, and a door becomes visible to me.

It is very plain, but oddly thin and deep in the shadows despite being in a fairly well lit area. It's wedged against the wall at the top of the stairs between two other hallways and a room, all lined in shelves of books. More books have overflown the shelves, lying haphazardly around the floor and further obscuring the door. Even knowing this door is somehow important, I can't imagine it hiding much more than a broom closet of some sort. The walls on either side are barely enough room for the door to fit, let alone anything behind it.

The boy steps through the door, and as I follow him ██ ████ ███ ██████ ████ ███████████ ██ █████████ █████████ ███ ████ █████ ████ █ ███ ████ ████ ███████ █ ██ ██ █ ██████ ████████ ██████████ █████ █████ ██████ ███████ ████████ ██ █ ██████ ██ █████████ ██████████████ █████████ █████ ███ █████ ██ ███████ ██████████ ████ ██ █ ██████████ ███████ ███ █████████ ███████ ███ ███ █████ ███████ █████ █ █████ ███ ████ ██████ ██████ ███ ███ ████ ██ ████████ ████ ███ ███████████ ███████████ ████ █████ the █████ ███████ ███ ██ ██ ███ █████ ███ ████ █ ███████ ██ █████ █████████ ████ ██████ ████ ████ ████ █████ █ ███ ████ █ weight █████ █ ██████ ██ ████ ██ ███ ███ ████ ██ ██████████ █████ ██████ ██████ ███ ███ █ ████ ████ ███████ ███████ ████ ███████ ████ █████

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I step through the door, and then... wait.. where... the memories are fading. I don't get to keep that, then. I don't get to keep any of it. █ █████ ███ ██ ████ ███ ██ ███

I don't feel surprised. Just sad.

But, for some reason, I still feel okay about it. Did something important happen in there? I remember... it's an important place. It was.. a library? No, it's, it's The Library. It's Important.

██ can never know about it.

This dream has an unreliable narrator who has weird memory blocks, which I wrote then redacted. This is the dream from the character's POV, if you want the unabridged omniscient POV this is the link.

I am running, and then I am falling. I didn't expect to start falling, but explosions will do that to people. Make them fall, I mean. Among other things. Well, at least I'm not on the rooftops anymore. I don't have a problem with heights, but I was starting to run out of places to -well, run.

I don't think they meant to make me fall that far though, they want me alive, for... Something.

Anyway, I'm falling, and then I hit something... Soft? That's a surprise, but then I'm rolling and the ground is hard again.

I look up, expecting to see the goons chasing me lining the rooftop, and I do see that but I also see eyes. There is a boy, my age, laying on his back and looking up at me in surprise.

Oh.

Soft.

I look back up but they're not following me yet. They need to wait for... For my... For someone. For their boss? Yes, yes their boss. He's a mob boss, and they are his mob.

I'm about to run again when I feel a soft hand on my arm. Warm.

"I know somewhere to hide."

---

He runs fast, his blonde hair shining in the dim sunlight. He's more nimble than I would have expected for just having been knocked over onto hard cement pavement. He brings me around a few corners- just out of sight of my pursuers- until we reach a... Bookstore? It has a lot of books, anyway. All of the buildings around are the same, flat beige brutalist design, and though this one is much the same above the first floor, its frontage has a recessed enterance between two large glass displays, all surrounded and set into a rich, dark, carved wood façade. Through the window is only a single desk with a lamp, backed by a tapestry and enshrined in a multitude of densely packed bookshelves that lead back into hallways of even more books on even denser shelves. He held my arm lightly- guidance, not restraint,and pulled me in to the front doors.

A small bell rang as we entered, and as we moved to hide further into the shelves of books a young person with dyed purple-green hair came out from a curtain behind the desk. The boy I was with made a quick gesture, and the person immediately turned serious. They nodded once and turned their sharp gaze on the window, jaw setting as if just that easy they knew what was happening.

We turned a corner, losing sight of the desk and the windows alike, and were surrounded by nearly endless aisles of bookshelves. We didn't move for much longer before we were stopped by someone- a friend of the boy, i'm sure, with how his shoulders relaxed at the sight of her.

She had long brown hair with dyed pink highlights pulled up into a bun. Yellow glasses (that matched her yellow blouse) rested on her nose, and she pushed them further up her face as she spoke.

"Veisi sent out a code three. What's happening."

"We're being chased- well, she's being chased."

"So you brought her here?"

"Its safe," the boy said, almost defensively.

"Is it?" she eyed me carefully. My white shirt and leggings had not been white since I... Since, ████... ██████. █ ███ ███? ████ ████ █ ████, █████████. My feet were bare and dirty, my hair was shoulder length and chaotic. I don't know what she thought of me. █ ███'█ ████ ████ ██ █████ ██ ██████ ██████.

"Come along." she said finally, and led the way further into the shelves.

We reached a narrow stairwell, and on the next level we met two more people- all about the same age as the boy I had met, ███ ██████ I think. They are probably all about 16 or 17? 18 or 19 at the oldest, if anyone looked young. They caught up with us and tagged along behind, whispering with the boy as I followed the pink haired girl.

I wasn't listening very close. There was still an urgency to how I was being herded along, but I wasnt being chased anymore, not in the manner I had been. It was a relief, and my mind started fading into thoughtlessness as I let go of some of the pressure that had been keeping me moving until now. I didn't notice how little energy I'd had left until then.

As we travelled, the books somehow got even denser, piling onto to floor and crowding the already hazardously narrow walkway. When, eventually, we reached a place that wasn't all narrow winding maze, the pink-haired girl leading the way turned and leveled her gaze on me. The soft hand on my arm never wavered.

She spoke with a calmness that was mirrored by the other people gathering around us. Everyone had at least one color in their hair, even the boy had white feathering that nearly blended in with his pale blonde hair.

"We pride █████████ in offering ████ ██ █████ ███ ████ ██, but we need ██ ██████████ more ██ ███ █████████. ███ ███ ███ █████ ██████ █ ███ ███"

I opened my mouth to speak, but could not. ████ █ ████ ██████ ███████ ██ █ ████ ████ ████ ███ ████ I know how, █ ████ ████ ██ █████████ █ ███ ██████

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"Look." Says the boy.

I open my eyes and see warm lights, and warm faces, and a pair of warm eyes looking down at me.

What was I just saying? I.. Forget. I must have fallen asleep. I am so very sore, made of bruises and the painful exaustion of overused muscles. But here I feel safe, in these soft arms. "It's going to be okay."

I believe him.

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

This next bit also had censored because, in ADDITION to her own addled memory, there's magic fuckery going on! This is again the uncensored version, you can find the characters' own unreliable (but still a correct experience!) version here!

Things are going to be okay.

The words echo like a promise in my mind as I am led once more through a maze of winding bookshelves and narrow staircases. I am brought to an intersection that, at first, looks like any other. Then, the light shifts, and a door becomes visible to me.

It is very plain, but oddly thin and deep in the shadows despite being in a fairly well lit area. It's wedged against the wall at the top of the stairs between two other hallways and a room, all lined in shelves of books. More books have overflown the shelves, lying haphazardly around the floor and further obscuring the door. Even knowing this door is somehow important, I can't imagine it hiding much more than a broom closet of some sort. The walls on either side are barely enough room for the door to fit, let alone anything behind it.

The boy steps through the door, and as i follow him... my eyes are filled with reflections of fractured sunlight, and more green than I had ever seen before. I am in a small, circular courtyard- maybe seven meters across- enclosed in a series of beautiful stone-engraved archways. There are doors at regular intervals, each of a beautiful, unique, and intricate design, but not every archway holds a door. The dark spaces beyond are too much at contrast with the colorbright mirrorshine that fills the space between for me too see well, but when I squint, it looks almost... like books. but, more than that. I can feel a weight, here. A weight of eyes on me, but also of knowledge, of... power? Maybe? How can I feel that weight, though. That doesn't make sense

But then again, neither does the door into this place.

Maybe it doesn't matter that it doesn't make sense. This place feels heavy like the weight of power and so it does. It's a tension like a coiled spring waiting to loose.

This space reminds me of a stopped clock.

Tree branches arch over from beyond the walls of the courtyard, simultaneously close and comforting but so very far away, lending shade despite the lack of actual shadows in this nowhere place. I feel like I'm being watched, here.

The light... I cannot see where it comes from. One sun, or many, or no sun at all seems not to matter, because the very air reflects and refracts it like mirrors and prisms are dangling where there are none, ever shifting like liquid silver.

The rest are already moving further into the courtyard as I stand, shocked still. They've been here before. They know this place, they're used to it. It makes sense. I cant shake feeling like I'm being weighed and measured though, that I shouldn't move until my judgement has passed.

Then, the boy warmly greets... an empty patch of air? The air he greets is shimmering like the rest of it, and i try to look closer, but, my eyes wont focus- until, suddenly, they do. There is a person there, where I swear there wasn't before. They have braids over each shoulder and wear a heavy-looking blue robe, despite the warmth in the courtyard.

They are looking at me, with a steely firmness to their gaze.

They do not answer they boy's greeting.

"You brought an anomaly." says the empty air, and my eyes are sent searching for another unseen individual. 

The boy stills, his smile not fading but frozen, as his eyes narrow and glance back to me so quick I almost miss it.

"...no, I didn't" he says, but it sounds less like a denial than I expected. More like... An explanation?

"Speak." commands the empty air, in another voice than the first, and I know it is talking to me. How many people am I not seeing?

"Uh, h, hi?" uncertainty races in my mind, my eyes trying and failing to focus in the colorblur. No voice answers me, but the sensation of being watched does not fade. "Uhm. I, I'm here to request help..."

"On whose behalf."

"My- my own? I need, I'm- I'm being chased,"

"You have lost your keeper."

"My keeper?"

"Yes." and yet another voice, "Do you know what you are?"

I don't know what they mean. I don't answer for a beat, I am merely confused, when suddenly the colorblur shifts again and I see the people who had been speaking.

"Your story is being rewritten." says a figure with a red robe and a shaved head.

"You future is in flux." says a person with a top-knot and a yellow robe.

"We cannot play a part in your creation." says another figure, with braids and a green robe.

"We cannot help you yet," one in a pale blue robe speaks, "but you will be able to ask again, someday."

"We will look to you then."

"But now,"

"You must leave this place."

It was not hostile, not a threat or even a demand. Just... A statement.

The boy looked back, his eyes meeting mine. He nods, once. And gestures back at the door before turning back to the figure he had first addressed. He speaks there, quietly but animatedly as I turn back to the door we came through.

The others are there, already gathering around the door in preparation to leave.

"He'll talk to them," says a boy with blue streaked hair, "I don't think he'll change their mind, but he might get some advice out of them."

"In the meantime let get you some food!" the girl with pink hair grins, and steps through the doorway ahead of me.

I step through the door, and then... wait.. where... the memories are fading. I don't get to keep that, then. I don't get to keep any of it. I never get to keep any of it.

I don't feel surprised. Just sad.

But, for some reason, I still feel okay about it. Did something important happen in there? I remember... it's an important place. It was.. a library? No, it's, it's The Library. It's Important.

He can never know about it.

Version of this dream without the redacted memories

I am running, and then I am falling. I didnt expect to start falling, but explosions will do that to people. Make them fall, I mean. Among other things. Well, atleast I'm not on the rooftops anymore. I dont have a problem with heights, but I was starting to run out of places to -well, run.

I don't think they meant to make me fall that far though, they want me alive, for... Something.

My memories get distant sometimes, I think. Like feathers that flutter away from my grasping hands any time I reach for them.

Anyway, I'm falling, and then I hit something... Soft? Thats a surprise, but then I'm rolling and the ground is hard again.

I look up, expecting to see the goons chasing me lining the rooftop, and I do see that but I also see eyes. There is a boy, my age, laying on his back and looking up at me in surprise.

Oh.

Soft.

I look back up but they're not following me yet. They need to wait for... For my... For someone. For their boss? Yes, yes their boss. He's a mob boss, and they are his mob.

I'm about to run again when I feel a soft hand on my arm. Warm.

"I know somewhere to hide."

---

He runs fast, his blonde hair shining in the dim sunlight. He's more nimble than I would have expected for just having been knocked over onto hard cement pavement. He brings me around a few corners- just out of sight of my pursuers- until we reach a... Bookstore? It has a lot of books, anyway. All of the buildings around are the same, flat beige brutalist design, and though this one is much the same above the first floor, its frontage has a recessed enterance between two large glass displays, all surrounded and set into a rich, dark, carved wood façade. Through the window is only a single desk with a lamp, backed by a tapestry and enshrined in a multitude of densely packed bookshelves that lead back into hallways of even more books on even denser shelves. He held my arm lightly- guidance, not restraint,and pulled me in to the front doors.

A small bell rang as we entered, and as we moved to hide further into the shelves of books a young person with dyed purple-green hair came out from a curtain behind the desk. The boy I was with made a quick gesture, and the person immediately turned serious. They nodded once and turned their sharp gaze on the window, jaw setting as if just that easy they knew what was happening.

We turned a corner, losing sight of the desk and the windows alike, and were surrounded by nearly endless aisles of bookshelves. We didn't move for much longer before we were stopped by someone- a friend of the boy, i'm sure, with how his shoulders relaxed at the sight of her.

She had long brown hair with dyed pink highlights pulled up into a bun. Yellow glasses (that matched her yellow blouse) rested on her nose, and she pushed them further up her face as she spoke.

"Veisi sent out a code three. What's happening."

"We're being chased- well, she's being chased."

"So you brought her here?"

"Its safe," the boy said, almost defensively.

"Is it?" she eyed me carefully. My white shirt and leggings had not been white since I... Since, when... Before. A day ago? Less than a week, certainly. My feet were bare and dirty, my hair was shoulder length and chaotic. I don't know what she thought of me. I don't know what to think of myself either.

"Come along." she said finally, and led the way further into the shelves.

We reached a narrow stairwell, and on the next level we met two more people- all about the same age as the boy I had met, and myself I think. They are probably all about 16 or 17? 18 or 19 at the oldest, if anyone looked young. They caught up with us and tagged along behind, whispering with the boy as I followed the pink haired girl.

I wasn't listening very close. There was still an urgency to how I was being herded along, but I wasnt being chased anymore, not in the manner I had been. It was a relief, and my mind started fading into thoughtlessness as I let go of some of the pressure that had been keeping me moving until now. I didn't notice how little energy I'd had left until then.

As we travelled, the books somehow got even denser, piling onto to floor and crowding the already hazardously narrow walkway. When, eventually, we reached a place that wasn't all narrow winding maze, the pink-haired girl leading the way turned and leveled her gaze on me. The soft hand on my arm never wavered.

She spoke with a calmness that was mirrored by the other people gathering around us. Everyone had at least one color in their hair, even the boy had white feathering that nearly blended in with his pale blonde hair.

"We pride ourselves in offering help to those who need it, but we need to understand more of the situation. Why are you being chased? Who by?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but could not. Have I ever spoken before? Do I know how? Yes, I'm sure I know how, I just need to remember. I try again.

"I.." the single syllable is rough, but present. I can talk. Can I answer her?

"They... Want something. I think..." my mouth opens and closes a few times, my brow furrows. They exchange glances I dont catch. "I think theres ...something I'm supposed to know."

Theres white fog in my head, filling my thoughts with the abscences. I its a secret they want the answer to."

The fog is thicker and thicker.

"They... They're following me for someone else, their boss. He's my..." my head hurts

"He's... My..." something. He's something to me.

To who?

"I... I'm..." I'm a mistake. I'm a creation made from the flesh of a false prophecy. I was borne of suffering and have died a hundred deaths and will die a hundred more without giving or gaining a hint of the promise of freedom of-

Soft hands hold my shoulders from behind, and I dont remember closing my eyes and I should probably lean away but instead I lean back and then I'm being held and warmsoft arms wrap around me and I'm being pulled to the floor and i need to sit and then he's cradling me and oh

"Look." Says the boy.

I open my eyes and see warm lights, and warm faces, and a pair of warm eyes looking down at me.

What was I just saying? I.. Forget. I must have fallen asleep. I am so very sore, made of bruises and the painful exaustion of overused muscles. But here I feel safe, in these soft arms. "It's going to be okay."

I believe him.

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

This dream has an unreliable narrator who has weird memory blocks, which I wrote then redacted. This is the dream from the character's POV, if you want the unabridged omniscient POV this is the link.

I am running, and then I am falling. I didn't expect to start falling, but explosions will do that to people. Make them fall, I mean. Among other things. Well, at least I'm not on the rooftops anymore. I don't have a problem with heights, but I was starting to run out of places to -well, run.

I don't think they meant to make me fall that far though, they want me alive, for... Something.

Anyway, I'm falling, and then I hit something... Soft? That's a surprise, but then I'm rolling and the ground is hard again.

I look up, expecting to see the goons chasing me lining the rooftop, and I do see that but I also see eyes. There is a boy, my age, laying on his back and looking up at me in surprise.

Oh.

Soft.

I look back up but they're not following me yet. They need to wait for... For my... For someone. For their boss? Yes, yes their boss. He's a mob boss, and they are his mob.

I'm about to run again when I feel a soft hand on my arm. Warm.

"I know somewhere to hide."

---

He runs fast, his blonde hair shining in the dim sunlight. He's more nimble than I would have expected for just having been knocked over onto hard cement pavement. He brings me around a few corners- just out of sight of my pursuers- until we reach a... Bookstore? It has a lot of books, anyway. All of the buildings around are the same, flat beige brutalist design, and though this one is much the same above the first floor, its frontage has a recessed enterance between two large glass displays, all surrounded and set into a rich, dark, carved wood façade. Through the window is only a single desk with a lamp, backed by a tapestry and enshrined in a multitude of densely packed bookshelves that lead back into hallways of even more books on even denser shelves. He held my arm lightly- guidance, not restraint,and pulled me in to the front doors.

A small bell rang as we entered, and as we moved to hide further into the shelves of books a young person with dyed purple-green hair came out from a curtain behind the desk. The boy I was with made a quick gesture, and the person immediately turned serious. They nodded once and turned their sharp gaze on the window, jaw setting as if just that easy they knew what was happening.

We turned a corner, losing sight of the desk and the windows alike, and were surrounded by nearly endless aisles of bookshelves. We didn't move for much longer before we were stopped by someone- a friend of the boy, i'm sure, with how his shoulders relaxed at the sight of her.

She had long brown hair with dyed pink highlights pulled up into a bun. Yellow glasses (that matched her yellow blouse) rested on her nose, and she pushed them further up her face as she spoke.

"Veisi sent out a code three. What's happening."

"We're being chased- well, she's being chased."

"So you brought her here?"

"Its safe," the boy said, almost defensively.

"Is it?" she eyed me carefully. My white shirt and leggings had not been white since I... Since, ████... ██████. █ ███ ███? ████ ████ █ ████, █████████. My feet were bare and dirty, my hair was shoulder length and chaotic. I don't know what she thought of me. █ ███'█ ████ ████ ██ █████ ██ ██████ ██████.

"Come along." she said finally, and led the way further into the shelves.

We reached a narrow stairwell, and on the next level we met two more people- all about the same age as the boy I had met, ███ ██████ I think. They are probably all about 16 or 17? 18 or 19 at the oldest, if anyone looked young. They caught up with us and tagged along behind, whispering with the boy as I followed the pink haired girl.

I wasn't listening very close. There was still an urgency to how I was being herded along, but I wasnt being chased anymore, not in the manner I had been. It was a relief, and my mind started fading into thoughtlessness as I let go of some of the pressure that had been keeping me moving until now. I didn't notice how little energy I'd had left until then.

As we travelled, the books somehow got even denser, piling onto to floor and crowding the already hazardously narrow walkway. When, eventually, we reached a place that wasn't all narrow winding maze, the pink-haired girl leading the way turned and leveled her gaze on me. The soft hand on my arm never wavered.

She spoke with a calmness that was mirrored by the other people gathering around us. Everyone had at least one color in their hair, even the boy had white feathering that nearly blended in with his pale blonde hair.

"We pride █████████ in offering ████ ██ █████ ███ ████ ██, but we need ██ ██████████ more ██ ███ █████████. ███ ███ ███ █████ ██████ █ ███ ███"

I opened my mouth to speak, but could not. ████ █ ████ ██████ ███████ ██ █ ████ ████ ████ ███ ████ I know how, █ ████ ████ ██ █████████ █ ███ ██████

█████ ███ ██████ ████████ ██ ██████ ███ ████████ █ ███ █████ Can I answer her?

████████ ████ ██████████ █ █████████ ██ █████ █████ ███ ██████ █ ███ ██████ ██ ████ ████████ ████ ████████ ███████ I don't ██████ ██ █████ ███████ ████████████ ███ ████████ ██ know██

███████ █████ ███ ██ ██ █████ ███████ ██ ████████ ████ the █████████ █ ███ █ secret ████ ████ ███ ██████ ████

███ ███ ██ ███████ ███ ████████

████████ ███████ █████████ ██ ███ ███████ █████ █████ █████ ████ ██████ ██ ████ █████

████████ ██████ ██████████ ████ █████████ ██ ███

██ ████

█████ ███████ ███ █ ████████ I'm a ████████ ████ ████ ███ █████ ██ █ false █████████ █ ███ █████ ██ █████████ ███ ████ ████ █ ███████ ██████ ███ ████ ███ █ ███████ ████ ███████ ██████ ██ ███████ █ ████ ██ ███ promise ██ ███████ ███

████ █████ ████ ██ █████████ ████ ███████ ███ █ ████ ████████ ███████ ██ ████ ███ █ ██████ ████████ ████ ████ ███ ███████ █ ████ ████ ███ ████ ███ █████ ████ ███ ████████ ████ ████ ██████ ██ ███ ███ █████ ██████ ██ ███ █████ ███ █ ████ ██ ███ ███ ████ ████ ████████ ██ ███ ██

"Look." Says the boy.

I open my eyes and see warm lights, and warm faces, and a pair of warm eyes looking down at me.

What was I just saying? I.. Forget. I must have fallen asleep. I am so very sore, made of bruises and the painful exaustion of overused muscles. But here I feel safe, in these soft arms. "It's going to be okay."

I believe him.

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

Version of this dream without the redacted memories

I am running, and then I am falling. I didnt expect to start falling, but explosions will do that to people. Make them fall, I mean. Among other things. Well, atleast I'm not on the rooftops anymore. I dont have a problem with heights, but I was starting to run out of places to -well, run.

I don't think they meant to make me fall that far though, they want me alive, for... Something.

My memories get distant sometimes, I think. Like feathers that flutter away from my grasping hands any time I reach for them.

Anyway, I'm falling, and then I hit something... Soft? Thats a surprise, but then I'm rolling and the ground is hard again.

I look up, expecting to see the goons chasing me lining the rooftop, and I do see that but I also see eyes. There is a boy, my age, laying on his back and looking up at me in surprise.

Oh.

Soft.

I look back up but they're not following me yet. They need to wait for... For my... For someone. For their boss? Yes, yes their boss. He's a mob boss, and they are his mob.

I'm about to run again when I feel a soft hand on my arm. Warm.

"I know somewhere to hide."

---

He runs fast, his blonde hair shining in the dim sunlight. He's more nimble than I would have expected for just having been knocked over onto hard cement pavement. He brings me around a few corners- just out of sight of my pursuers- until we reach a... Bookstore? It has a lot of books, anyway. All of the buildings around are the same, flat beige brutalist design, and though this one is much the same above the first floor, its frontage has a recessed enterance between two large glass displays, all surrounded and set into a rich, dark, carved wood façade. Through the window is only a single desk with a lamp, backed by a tapestry and enshrined in a multitude of densely packed bookshelves that lead back into hallways of even more books on even denser shelves. He held my arm lightly- guidance, not restraint,and pulled me in to the front doors.

A small bell rang as we entered, and as we moved to hide further into the shelves of books a young person with dyed purple-green hair came out from a curtain behind the desk. The boy I was with made a quick gesture, and the person immediately turned serious. They nodded once and turned their sharp gaze on the window, jaw setting as if just that easy they knew what was happening.

We turned a corner, losing sight of the desk and the windows alike, and were surrounded by nearly endless aisles of bookshelves. We didn't move for much longer before we were stopped by someone- a friend of the boy, i'm sure, with how his shoulders relaxed at the sight of her.

She had long brown hair with dyed pink highlights pulled up into a bun. Yellow glasses (that matched her yellow blouse) rested on her nose, and she pushed them further up her face as she spoke.

"Veisi sent out a code three. What's happening."

"We're being chased- well, she's being chased."

"So you brought her here?"

"Its safe," the boy said, almost defensively.

"Is it?" she eyed me carefully. My white shirt and leggings had not been white since I... Since, when... Before. A day ago? Less than a week, certainly. My feet were bare and dirty, my hair was shoulder length and chaotic. I don't know what she thought of me. I don't know what to think of myself either.

"Come along." she said finally, and led the way further into the shelves.

We reached a narrow stairwell, and on the next level we met two more people- all about the same age as the boy I had met, and myself I think. They are probably all about 16 or 17? 18 or 19 at the oldest, if anyone looked young. They caught up with us and tagged along behind, whispering with the boy as I followed the pink haired girl.

I wasn't listening very close. There was still an urgency to how I was being herded along, but I wasnt being chased anymore, not in the manner I had been. It was a relief, and my mind started fading into thoughtlessness as I let go of some of the pressure that had been keeping me moving until now. I didn't notice how little energy I'd had left until then.

As we travelled, the books somehow got even denser, piling onto to floor and crowding the already hazardously narrow walkway. When, eventually, we reached a place that wasn't all narrow winding maze, the pink-haired girl leading the way turned and leveled her gaze on me. The soft hand on my arm never wavered.

She spoke with a calmness that was mirrored by the other people gathering around us. Everyone had at least one color in their hair, even the boy had white feathering that nearly blended in with his pale blonde hair.

"We pride ourselves in offering help to those who need it, but we need to understand more of the situation. Why are you being chased? Who by?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but could not. Have I ever spoken before? Do I know how? Yes, I'm sure I know how, I just need to remember. I try again.

"I.." the single syllable is rough, but present. I can talk. Can I answer her?

"They... Want something. I think..." my mouth opens and closes a few times, my brow furrows. They exchange glances I dont catch. "I think theres ...something I'm supposed to know."

Theres white fog in my head, filling my thoughts with the abscences. I its a secret they want the answer to."

The fog is thicker and thicker.

"They... They're following me for someone else, their boss. He's my..." my head hurts

"He's... My..." something. He's something to me.

To who?

"I... I'm..." I'm a mistake. I'm a creation made from the flesh of a false prophecy. I was borne of suffering and have died a hundred deaths and will die a hundred more without giving or gaining a hint of the promise of freedom of-

Soft hands hold my shoulders from behind, and I dont remember closing my eyes and I should probably lean away but instead I lean back and then I'm being held and warmsoft arms wrap around me and I'm being pulled to the floor and i need to sit and then he's cradling me and oh

"Look." Says the boy.

I open my eyes and see warm lights, and warm faces, and a pair of warm eyes looking down at me.

What was I just saying? I.. Forget. I must have fallen asleep. I am so very sore, made of bruises and the painful exaustion of overused muscles. But here I feel safe, in these soft arms. "It's going to be okay."

I believe him.

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

!!!!!! I just remembered part of my dream from night before last! Whew i thought i lost it all. Anyway what does an electron feel like when it dies.

they want to keep dream land safe for kirby’s birthday!

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

Date of Origin: December 5th, 2021

I am swimming in a calm body of water, it has no waves but I believe it to be the ocean. I cannot touch the ground, but I am only about thirty feet or so from the shore. I am waiting. It is on the brighter side of twilight, but there is no sun, only the moon shining down. There are five people of varying shapes and sizes on the shore, all wearing pale robes, all at least 45 years or older. They stand in a circle, touch hands, and start chanting something in a tongue I understand but don't recognise. The water around me starts to move, and i try to move with it. A whirlpool forms to my left, and I swim towards it as quickly as I can. I know it won't last long, and it's important I reach it in time- but just as it starts to pull me down, I hear one of the chanting people flub a word and the water starts losing momentum. The chanting stutters to a halt as the others realize what happened, and the waters calm to the placidity they started with. The chanter who flubbed mutters an apology, but I wave him off. It's better this way, actually. Now I know where the whirlpool will be, and I will have more time. They get themselves back in order, and start over. This time the waters start orbiting me, as the whirlpool forms on top of me. I let it carry me down, down, before I take my last deep breath and am sent rocketing into the ocean. I am sent about 600 feet below the surface of the ocean, and even then I am still riding the momentum of the whirlpool. It carried me nearly to the sea floor, whereupon sprouts a forest of large, sharp, irregular stone spikes. I swim through them, toward the cliff wall that I now see sits under the shoreline. The ground between the spikes glows red, and though i cant see it, i Know the seafloor is full of lava, and I can feel the heat roilling in the water around me. I angle myself upward, swimming as fast as I can to reach my destination. There are openings in the rock face, caves and tunnels. I know one of them leads up, to an air pocket. The others are either dead ends, where I will die alone in the choking dark, or they lead down to the source of this heat, where lava burns so hot it doesn't care that it's underwater. I know which one it is, and I make a beeline for it. The tunnel is narrow, but the water inside is cool, and a relief from the scorching temperatures I left behind. It is dark and cramped, but I persist. I pull myself through the tunnel and eventually break the water's surface, gasping as I step into a larger, roundish cave. It isn't that big a cave but it is very dark, and I cannot see the end of it. I take a deep breath of the stale air, and take a step into the dark.

The above image is my drawing of the dream, as i swam above the stone spikes towards the caves. Below, are alternate versions of the same image- one that is a bit brighter, easier to see on darker screens. One that hasn't got my own figure in it. And one that has a symbol on it.

The symbol is part of the chant from the dream, translated into english (and morse code), plus a sigil for strength. Overall the meaning is to empower one with bravery, strength of heart, and willpower. The intent is not fearlessness, but the ability to take action despite ones fear.

Here are some alternate files of the symbols. Like and rb if you save please.

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

An artists rendition of The Shoes from Hell

Date of origin: April 18, 2021

Part 1/2

This starts in some futuristic cyberpunk dystopia thats only slightly dissimilar to our own. In it, most people interact with the world while using some sort of interface, like a supplemented reality. It starts with me, playing the part of a very attractive woman, breaking into the penthouse suite of some sort of important diplomatic visitor. As I am doing this, I'm wearing like 6 inch golden stilettos that have hot pink wheels on them. Its exactly as difficult to walk in as it sounds. I find something of use, and return to the building's lobby, which is full of corpses. But as I am trying to leave (trying being the opporative word, those shoes were terrifying) the person whose suite I broke into returns and sees me... except they are wearing the same interface as everyone, and now the government knows I'm there. The government doesn't want this person to see anything wrong, so adds a filter over the whole lobby, changing the persons perception before they see anything suspicious. Me in my terrible shoes becomes a kindly old woman struggling to walk, and all the corpses become other clientele from the hotel. The moment the person is no longer in the lobby, the facade is dropped, and there are shadows at the windows. This is where my dream stops- but context from part two implies I was captured, taken to a covert government facility, interrogated, and killed.

(Part 2)

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

Date of Origin: Nov 16th, 2021

This dream starts with me waiting. I dont know where I am, but i know it is South and West from where i want to be. There is something important where I'm going, something I care about. I'm not scared or desperate to get there, but I want to get there quickly. But I have no means of travel. I am at some sort of bus station, but all the official bus routes are going west, northwest, or further south, as the mountains were an unoffical border that busses dont often cross. There was one bus going northeast, to the mountains, but it was privately owned by the Blue Mountain Travelers. I think theyre a cult, most people who go to join the Blue Mountain Travelers dont leave again, and those that we outsiders have met are always just a little too happy, too eager, something a little too bright in their eyes that puts us off. They sing more than speak, and their words of magic and legend treat fairytales as if they were real. I didn't have anything against them, persay. They might have been a cult but that wasnt my job to fix, and I wouldn't know where to start if I wanted to.

And they were the only bus going where I wanted.

I didnt trust them, I dont believe in magic, and I'm not desperate in any way so I felt safe enough from their tactics to ask them for a lift. They were So Happy to have me aboard. I sat in the back of the bus, as they sang their songs and we traveled to the mountains.

I had expected to get annoyed by the singing, but as the journey went on it grew on me. The tunes weren't monotone or repetetive, they were actually good songs, and hearing everyone on the bus sing together felt nice, like being part of a community. The sun never lowered in the sky, the morning just as bright and warm as it was hours earlier. The hills outside my window grew larger, the slopes steepening to match our gradual ascent. Ahead, the mountains loomed. Everything felt more colorful than it had last time I crossed the mountains. The grass was the bright green of new, healthy plants. The mountains rose up and the grey I thought them to be previously really did turn blue, almost brilliantly blue, a deep, rich color that made me feel that rising elation and calm that comes with a sunrise or high place. The bus started weaving its way up the mountains, and the grassey hills made way for forest. The trees were alive with wildlife i could not name and cannot describe. Creatures flitted out of the perefery of my vision, colors too rich to feel real. All the while, everyone sang, smiled, swayed together. The air was clear and full of music. The bus rumbled ever upward.

Then, we arrived. The bus pulled up onto a flat, wide clearing, so full of low-lying plantlife i barely recognized it as a parking lot. There were more of the Travelers milling around, reuniting as they disemberked from their own busses, hugging and laughing and stretching. Another bus was pulling up from a road across the way, and soon the clearing had a steady stream of Travelers heading toward the rocky cliff to one side of the lot. I disembarked from the bus after the rest left, and hesitated, glancing at the road across the way. Thats my way out, the way toward my destination. A gentle hand touched my arm, and I turned to see one of the people from my bus. They had waited for me. They were smiling, but, not so widely as I had seen before, not so unnervingly.

"I should go," i said, "i have somewhere to be."

"The next bus wont leave for two hours," they replied, their voice so soothing and calm.

"You have time,

"Come, relax,

"Eat something,

"Rest,

"We will get you where you must go."

My unease settled, my tense muscles relaxed, and I really Looked around me. The perso who waited for me seemed happy, calm. They were so very relaxed, as if nothing in the world could hurt them here. The wall everyone had walked toward had thinned of people, and i could now see the great arching door they were all going through. I hadn't known there was any digging happening on this mountain, but I suppose most people would come here save the Travelers. A meal sounded nice. Rest sounded nice. And two hours was a good amount of time.

This person said they were going to get me where I was going. The words didn't sound like a promise, but I Knew it was one. I acquiesced, and followed them into the mountain.

And this is where i got the shock of my life. The cave system was not naturally formed, they layout so clearly made for people, but the walls were so smooth and round it felt natural. The question i had was answered, and i was taken to see the Delvers. They were great machines, built around an unfamiliar power source, that looked more like magic than technology. They were perfectly designed to dig these tunnels, and they were fascinating to watch, each movement like a dance step, a puzzle piece slotting in place. The Delvers were not the only constructs that the Blue Mountain Travelers used. The person who showed me them, told of when they discovered this place the constructs were dormant. The founders of the settlement had started investigating, trying to learn and understand what the constructs were, and learned how to activate them. The founders woke up just a couple and, amazed, they returned down from the mountain telling everyone of the magnificent things they had discovered. Naturally, noone had believed them.

So they went back to the mountain and started learning on their own. Sometimes they would travel back down, curiosity attracting one or two stray souls at a time, and really there was no expecting their little community could have grown so large as it did in the time since. Now they have all their needs met by these constructs, and spend their days together, dancing and singing and eating and pursuing whatever hobbies strike at their fancy.

I still had to leave, but I spent every moment of that remaining time I had watching the constructs labor.

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

Date of Origin: November 15th, 2021

I was in my car, enduring a traffic jam while idling my car under an overpass. Something was happening above me- there were loud noises i couldn't quite place. Then, with a crash of screaming metal and the roar of a wild engine, a train came crashing over the lip of the overpass, a few wrecked cars tumbling alongside. It had derailed and gone rogue. There was something green and glowey on the front wheel. Less than four train cars had landed before the train lost enough momentum to stop moving, leaving a mess of train cars strung partway between the overpass and the ground, and a mangled collection of vehicles littered along its path of destruction. I was about to get out of my car- i had opened my door even- with the intent to run toward the wreck, and search for the engineer (who i Knew to be the only person aboard), when my car jerked forward. I had not done anything to make it do that, and I had not been hit by anything either. It jerked forward again, and now I could See in third person as a small green spirit lifted up my car by the front left tire. This, I would soon learn, was an entity named Fathius Long. I started yelling at this spirit to put me down, and though he did not do as I asked he did stop moving me around. I got the impression of a whiney voice saying "but I want it though!" referring to the wheel of my car. I then started chiding this childish creature on its reckless and harmful behavior, and shamed Fathius long into putting me down. The creature called Fathius Long did have a petulant and immature personality, but he was Not a child. I believe he was something like 60 years old, but my dream is unclear if Fathius continued aging between becoming a spirit and meeting me, so he could have been older. He had a crass sense of humour, and followed me along for the rest of the dream. He had a significant fondness for wheels. He always wanted to grab and carry around any wheels he saw. After getting back onto solid ground, I went into a door in the side of the underpass and found myself and Fathius on a series of gridlike walkways suspended over several artificially made pits of lava. Fathius found a wheelbarrow that he carried around while we carefully traversed the grid. I Knew this was a factory that belonged to my father* and I just needed to find the door to my house from here. 

*  My father in this case is a fictional parental figure that bears no resemblance to any of my family irl. I got the impression dream-me had a complicated relationship with him. 

Eventually I did find it, and I entered the room it led to. It was a large, grey, oddly shaped room. It had a dresser on one side, and a bed on the opposite wall. To my left was a weird shaped convex wall, almost perfectly matching the shape of the walls opposite but smaller. There was a small door in this wall, and I sensed an unfamiliar presence behind me so I went into the small door to hide. Inside was an identical room to the one I just left, but at about 90% scale. I still felt that presence at my back, and it felt hostile. There was another small door that once again I went through, crouching down to fit. Again, the same room but smaller. I continued this, hiding in smaller and smaller rooms as every room I went into got more cramped and uncomfortable. I squeezed myself into the seventh room, and found I could not go any further, as the rooms had gotten too small for me to fit in, let alone get through the door. I noticed I could no longer see Fathius Long, who had been following me up until now, and as I tried to steady my panicked breathing I heard a door open. The hostile presence grew closer, and I heard another door, closer, louder. I held my breath, throat frozen in fear. I heard the next door. And the next, now this entity was separated by only three doors. Then two. I could not breathe. Then one. The doorknob turned, I could not breathe, I could not breathe, I woke up. 

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

Date of origin: 6/13/21

Pt 1/3

In a post apocalyptic world, everything is very, very dry. I am resting with an adventuring party on a small, round, flat hill. I Know its naturally formed, but it doesnt look it. It looks like a tree with a ten foot radius got cut down in one perfect stroke four feet off the ground, and turned into the same stone as everything else. We are watching the sun(s) set, and nobody speaks as we lay out our sleeping bags and the like. we all know what we're waiting on, words aren't needed. Night falls, a cold breeze starts blowing, and we all lay down and close our eyes. We receive visions, flashes of symbols. There were many, but i only remember two from that dream-within-a-dream. A dark orb wreathed in blue flame, and a stag, lifting one foot and glowing orange*. We all woke up at the same time. Again, no one spoke. We all knew what it meant, we knew where we had to go. We started getting ready for the long day of traveling ahead, eager to see the craftsmen who gathered for a fair somewhere on our path, and hoping we would find the right person in time. 

*the orb represented the source of our visions, however whether it was sentient and requesting aid or was simply a source of power i could not say. The stag represented our most immediate goal, it was a person who needed our help. Likely they needed our protection from something, but once our job was completed they had the potential to become an invaluable ally. 

(part 2) (part 3)

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

Date of origin: 6/13/21

Pt 2/3  (part 1)

This dream only had two dimensions. I dreamed in side-scroller. I was in a videogame, where i had to get through a path without dying. I could only go forward at a steady pace, and there were wide cracks and holes in the sidewalk that i often failed to jump over and would have to restart, plus some big leafy plants that would move and push me around, trying to kill me. Each time i died and respawned, there appeared more and more of those vicious plants. Green sprouted from every hole in the sidewalk, every window in the background, and anywhere i died. Every time i died the existing plants got bigger. I died a lot. Eventually, i finally reached the point where when i respawned everything was green, i could see no sidewalk or building or anything, just me and the vast greenery. But this time the game was different! This time, the plants helped me. Apparently every time i died the plants ate my body and grew strong, and they thanked me for nourishing them by helping me get through the level. I'm pretty sure they still wanted to eat me though, and planned to do so later. 

(part 3)

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

Date of origin: 6/13/21

Pt 3/3 (part 1) (part 2)

I was shopping at the big wegmans at night when my boss, from target, approaches me and commends my dedicated work ethic. he continues to imply i am working here at target (the wegmans is now a target) and asks me to do my rounds and tell guests we are closed or closing. i do as he says but since im still not actually an employee i am not getting paid and i stay confused.

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

Date of origin: April 18, 2021

Part 1/2

This starts in some futuristic cyberpunk dystopia thats only slightly dissimilar to our own. In it, most people interact with the world while using some sort of interface, like a supplemented reality. It starts with me, playing the part of a very attractive woman, breaking into the penthouse suite of some sort of important diplomatic visitor. As I am doing this, I'm wearing like 6 inch golden stilettos that have hot pink wheels on them. Its exactly as difficult to walk in as it sounds. I find something of use, and return to the building's lobby, which is full of corpses. But as I am trying to leave (trying being the opporative word, those shoes were terrifying) the person whose suite I broke into returns and sees me... except they are wearing the same interface as everyone, and now the government knows I'm there. The government doesn't want this person to see anything wrong, so adds a filter over the whole lobby, changing the persons perception before they see anything suspicious. Me in my terrible shoes becomes a kindly old woman struggling to walk, and all the corpses become other clientele from the hotel. The moment the person is no longer in the lobby, the facade is dropped, and there are shadows at the windows. This is where my dream stops- but context from part two implies I was captured, taken to a covert government facility, interrogated, and killed.

(Part 2)

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

Date of origin: April 18, 2021

2/2 (Part 1)

In a cyberpunk dystopia, I am a reporter for a newspaper investigating a rival freelance reporter (who I know to be me, from part 1), and sees them get taken to a certain facility. After staking it out for a day or two, I search around the perimeter of the building and find evidence of them having been burned- ash and bone fragments on the earth near some sort of chute. A few minutes and some questions later, this is confirmed by a crass employee of the facility. I was going to give up when I saw some slight evidence of a trail- perhaps an escape? I follow the footprints to a public area, where I encounter some young adults. They seem to be the real source of the trail, and I am immediately distracted from my investigation. They look playful, but do not talk and indicate that I should not either. They are all wearing layered garments, with colorful outerwear, and practical footwear. They indicate I should follow them, and they lead the way to some sort of access tunnel under the surface of the city. The interior is a very simple block formation of thick, cement squares at regular intervals and stairwells at the intersection of different areas. Though an easy layout to understand, the vastness of the space and the consistent sameness of it makes it feel mazelike. We go down about three or four levels before anyone speaks. Once "safe" (as 30 feet of concrete apparently deems us), they show me the game they come here to play. They have light powered guns that shoot out enamel pins. The pins don't get fired with very much force*, but they will prick the target anyway. Hence the many layers. Each of the pins they use as ammo has illegal art printed on them, and each gun has a specific work of art or a specific banned artist. This is something to distinguish the ammo of each player from that of the others. The game ends when either one person has ammo from all players (sans themselves) stuck to them (loser), or when all players (sans the shooter) have ammo from the one person  stuck to them (winner). If you are caught playing this game by the authorities (police/government etc) you will likely be imprisoned or worse. After they finish playing, they need to make it home not only without getting caught, but also while leaving as many of the pins out around the city as they can.

*dream logic- the pins travel a little faster than a nerf, always hit pin-side first, always stick where they hit, have the impact force of a paintball, and don't significantly curve or arc at all.

We played for several minutes, and it was honestly exhilarating. There were seven players other than me. By the time the next "event" happened, I'd hit my pins onto two of them, and had five pins myself (but two were from the same player). I was still playing, when i suddenly got intense unignorable anxiety. The other players noticed, as I had frozen in the middle of a game and must have had an odd expression on my face. They asked why I froze, and I said "something is wrong."

They asked if I wanted to leave, and I did. I put down my pin-gun and walked to the stairs, but when I got there I heard footsteps above me- lots of them. I ran back through and told the players to run, quietly, and to reach another stairwell. They immediately knew how serious this was, and did as I said, falling back into the silence of earlier. We reached the next stairwell, but immediately noticed the sound of more footsteps, boots running down from a couple stories up. We ran to yet another stairwell, and we could not ignore anymore that they are at every set of stairs, and they are coming down, for us. We can't escape up, but we might be able to hide on the lower floors. We get split up here, everyone trying to hide or run best they can. I go down the stairs the way i always do in dreams, swinging over the railing and swing-jump-catch-swinging my way down the rails of each floors stairs. There are fifty floors, counting up the deeper you go, so I stop on level forty seven. I assume they might search the upper floors thoroughly and they'll definitely search the lowest floor for runners, but third from the bottom is maybe a bit less likely. I wait there in the quiet tension for an unknowable length of time, until eventually three of the people being chased stumble across me, and I realize every level is being thoroughly checked. The runners confirm this, and are even able to describe the man in charge of leading the raid. For some reason, somehow, I recognize him.

I know this man and am confident in my ability to manipulate him, and I convince the runners to follow my lead. I find a room full of bulletproof glass cells, and I convince them to enter them despite it very clearly looking like I am planning to give them over to the raiders like this. I get them to trust me, and I stand in the narrow hallway between them and the door. I am also shielded by a clear bulletproof barrier, and I wait for the raid leader to arrive.

It doesn't take long.

When the raid leader shows up, I play the part, and act like I'm giving these people over to him in exchange for my freedom. He takes the bait, and drops his gaurd. As he goes to move past me, I snap out, and in one quick movement I steal his gun and use it to shoot him- one quick bullet to the head. As he's going down I get the sense that I knew him, personally, and didn't dislike him. I killed him because I had to and didn't regret that decision, but it hurt to do anyway.

Then his boss, from behind me, tazes me and I pass out. 

I come to awareness on a beach, bound and held, face to face with the lady who tazed me. I am able to talk but don't have much to say, approaching my mortality as I was. She, however, did speak with me. I wish I could remember her words clearer, but alas, dreams are only so tangible. She contemplated aloud to me, about how to survive with morals in this type of environment. Every day, to keep herself and her loved ones alive and unharmed, she was causing active harm to other people. And she hated it, but she knew she wouldn't be able to stop. So, making it livable for her, usually just meant trying to find a handful of people that she could help. Just a few, sometimes even one solitary soul that she could spare. Just doing enough she can live with herself.

I got the impression she was contemplating risking her job and safety to help me, but for some reason had decided against it. She could help me, but wouldn't. I think this was her roundabout way of saying sorry, maybe? Or something like that. A black helicopter hovered overhead, and I woke up.

[kits-weirdass-dream-journal]

Date of origin: november 5, 2021.

Part 1/3

I'm at my childhood home, trying to open Halo Reach on my laptop. I say trying, cause it keeps overheating and shutting down while its fan makes an absolutely dreadful grating noise. I decide to open the back of the computer and see whats happening there. As I dont know anything about computers irl this would be a bad decision, but in my dream the computer turns into a metal box. I reach in to the "computer" and pull out box after box of games. Card games, board games, rpgs... It is stuffed full of them. I think to myself "what the fuck are these doing here" and my dad walks by, and jokes about my computer being more cardgame than hardware.

(part 2) (part 3)