Dream Journal Ultimate
Date: 10/24/2022
By Aler
I am reading a psychological thriller or mystery novel. A police woman is hunting a killer. She sets up a trap where he’s tricked into confessing at a dinner while a young girl listens in from another room. He’s arrested, but it’s revealed that it was some kind of trick on his part. It made sense in the dream, but I can’t remember the details. The dream repeats. This time he fakes the death of a woman in order to escape. The dram repeats. This time he can transfer his consciousness to others by touch, making a mental double. This starts in a grocery store with a brief handshake. Quickly everyone in the stores is transformed, then they escape. Everyone in the world is transformed. I don’t think it’s a good story. Too cynical. The second half of the dream takes plaice in the future. All of earth has been taken by the one consciousness. We’re in a council chambers. There are ten “governors”, myself as leader, a scribe and a clerk. We ask the clerk for a report and he says there are now ten billion of us, and estimated less than a thousand original humans. This does not include converted plants and animals. While we’re all identical, the ten governors are set up to make diplomacy with other planets easier. I am concerned with drift, that we’re starting to diverge. I ask one governor, a Black woman, for a report. She says there are an estimated 250 humans in her district, likely underground. I suggested evacuation a billion of us, and simply bombing the entire district to kill anything remaining. She balks, claiming it would hurt diplomacy. A shot of other governor’s screens show that they are also hiding humans. On a street corner, I talk with the woman from the council. She says she’s been questioning her identity. Is she really an identical mental clone (rock person in her words) or her own person. A human has been guiding her spiritual path. The leadership declares an end to the “civil conflict”. Humans will not be converted against their will. I go to meet with “The one who flies with geese”. He has a small apartment with a wood stove and a welcome mat hanging on the back of a chair to dry. His door won’t lock, now that the civil conflict has ended. I wake up, soaked in sweat.