... unfortunately without any fucking.

So I just had a series of really odd dreams, culminating in my current state of awakeness. It only seems fair that I write them down somewhere, and since I don't keep a dream journal or anything I figured I'd let Newgrounds share in my bizarre subconscious life.

Those who don't like reading may find these interesting enough to read anyway, though be warned: I've tried to relate them as accurately as possible so they're quite lengthy.

THE FIRST:
I'm back at UMass. For some odd reason I'm wandering the hallways and corridors of random buildings. I enter one such building and find it necessary to reach the 5th floor, though the building is constructed in such a way that it is a large atrium in the center, that all the rooms open into, and there is little to no flooring outside each door. I reach the fifth floor mostly through climbing since the stairs seem pointless after the first flight. At this point, it's revealed that I've apparently made this long journey in order to get some work done at this kid's locker, because I have the key to it and that'll allow me to hold onto it in order to prevent myself from falling 4 stories to the interior floor below.

I work away at whatever work I have to do, but the kid shows up. He's like "uh, excuse me, do you mind if I use your key to get into my locker?" It's reasonable, I'm worried he would have a problem with me doing this anyway so I grant him that. He climbs around me, opens his locker, grabs a few things, then climbs around me again and goes into his dorm room (which happens to be right next to his locker, the closest door to it, in fact).

After a minute of thinking, an unknown third party suggests that I ask the kid if I can sit on his floor and get this work done, so I'm not continually interrupted with the fear of a horrific death from falling. I knock on his door, he opens it and says "come on in, QUICKLY!" I oblige.

As I get inside he's already sitting back down in a circle with a couple other kids on the floor. They're smoking out of a bong in an all-too-familiar manner. I think about how to decline the offer to smoke, though it never materializes. I note that this explains his nonchalantness with the locker scenario and subsequent use of his dorm floor.

Suddenly, there's commotion from the two rooms neighboring this one on the right. A teacher is grilling another teacher for his use of language with the students. His argument is mostly that he doesn't care how he teaches, but that when it disturbs him and his own class it's crossing a line. I've stood to catch a glimpse through the window on the front of the door at these quarreling teachers, all other parties present have frozen, horrified that they'll be discovered.

// THE FOLLOWING IS AN ASIDE TO THE READER // Keep in mind that all through this dream minor details that were originally one way are changed to fit the dream's purpose. The door was originally windowless, and they had a fan set up to pull outside air through the closed door, standard smoking procedure. It wasn't until I needed to see outside that there was a window. This is only one example, but they're too numerous to keep track of, so if you notice an inconsistency it's because of these changes. // ASIDE OVER //

This black girl who's friends with the kid in the room emerges amidst the commotion and knocks on the door. She leans through the window (apparently there isn't even glass in this window), but can't see inside the room until the kid responds and tells her to come in. She enters, there's some minor discussion like "man what was that whole commotion about?"

Soon, all the doors are opened and it's shown that the atrium is actually a lot smaller than it once was. There's a walkway around the length of it, and probably about a dozen entrances surrounding. We've got a veritable crowd of people moving about the walkway, but I notice one girl in particular. She has short red hair, green eyes, and her face is partially covered. She's like a mix between a ginger and an olive skinned arabian. It looks surprisingly good, in fact, I'm instantly attracted; though intrigued.

Turns out she's new, and she's one of those "Learn everyone's names here" sortof people. The setup of the building is such that we're all already facing the center, and she takes a stance leaning against a table that now occupies the center of what once was the atrium. She's giving her standard spiel about who she is and what she's done to get her here to this point in her life, and she starts going around the circle asking people their names.

I'm distracted. Precisely where frontal lobe is located there is sourced a faint light. It's bright, I can tell, but it appears very faint and I don't understand why it's there. I see her face and head normally, but where the light is concerned her features appear to give-way to that light.

She reaches me. As her eyes turn to focus on me, the light comes into focus. With all it's full intensity it trains on me and my eyes are overwhelmed by the brightness. It's as if I'm on the receiving end of a million-candlepower spotlight--yet, I do not look away. I mentally decide that this clearly explains why I was initially intrigued by this chick.

The light is gone. She's skipped me. I protest saying "don't you want to know my name?"
She responds, "No, Evan."

I'm stunned. How did this girl know my name already? Is she someone I've known previously? She certainly didn't get it from anyone in this building, because I don't know anyone in this building. I didn't even ask the names of the kids whose room I was sitting in. These questions take up the rest of the time it takes for her to get everyone's names.

There's commotion again, people are walking around, I take it as a sign that the introductions are over and I may approach. I do. I'm ready with the only question that seems pertinent, "How did you know my name?" She grins widely and gives me a knowing nod.

But, she doesn't really respond to my question initially. I'm persistent, and she reasons that she just took a guess. Her words were something along the line of "Listen, don't take offense of anything, but I've seen a lot of Evans and they tend to be large, y'know, in the way they move. I saw you and you're just clearly an Evan." I'm not offended, in fact, I almost agree, though it doesn't quite make sense to me. I'm cynical that it had something to do with that shining light, her knowing smile leads me on in this assumption, though I don't press the matter futher.

I ask her if she knows my last name. She responds coyly again, not really answering my question. Something to the effect of "why? So I can scream your full name when we're fucking?" I feel as if I've been condescended toward with this statement. It occurs to me that she doesn't know my last name, that she doesn't know why she knew my first name, and that only I truly understood why she was able to know my first name.

This time, I smile knowingly. I respond by walking away. She does not pursue me.

I head down the stairs, and run into my old math teacher, Mr. Sperry! He's a great guy, I greet him immediately and he gives his trademark "Yyyyyo-OH!" But he's part of a crowd obviously watching something big in the center of the once before (and now again) coliseum-like building, so I let him be. As I move down the stairs, I've stopped for a moment to consider my steps (don't want to be too loud out of respect for the crowd gathered and watching). I notice a bottle, and accidentally knock it over. It's a 20 oz. sunkist bottle. Those things are loud as fuck when dropped on the ground, and even though I stomp my foot on it precisely enough to stop it, the cap managed to slam into the floor and make the loud "PLONK!" sound they always make. I'm shushed by the crowd.

I continue down the stairs.

The dream tapers off at this point.

DREAM TWO:

I'm watching TV or something. There's a show on that's recapping and previewing for those who haven't seen these award-winning movie nominees for the year. There're several, one of which seems to be inspired by the video of this truck being carried downhill by this mudslide that I saw while actually watching TV earlier. All of them are as equally detailed as the one I'm about to describe, but obviously not nearly as thought-provoking, nor disturbing.

There's a vast conspiracy in this film. I'm no longer watching TV, I'm present and basically a walking camera. I see and observe all that is shown to me, yet I'm not part of the actual events. A man is standing in line waiting to get onto a futuristic rail-car and travel. One-by-one, the passengers are loaded into the car. Doors opening and closing in between each one. I'm following this particular passenger, so I'm unaware of the other passenger's situations. This one man is dressed in casual business attire. He has a general look of importance about him. I notice he's carrying a briefcase. The line is moving and ultimately, he's reached the door.

The door opens, he steps inside. He looks up from whatever was in his hand (presumably a cell phone) to look around as if to take a seat. His glance is interrupted.

A large screwdriver has torqued it's way through the wall opposite the door. It spins quickly, but it is precise. It strikes his neck and the torque causes his jaw to face toward the camera. His expression is frozen on his face as, in a fraction of a second his neck is broken against the flat end of the driver hitting the back of the door with his neck. He is dead instantly, the look of horror hadn't even dawned on his expression yet. He is looking at the camera with the same "I don't know what's going on, I'm just glancing up to get my bearing in the rail-car" expression.

His corpse is instantly carted off through a pre-set trapdoor upon his death. A short travel, indeed, as he is in the same tube that carried prior victims. His feet hit the head of the last person killed. The tube is small enough to keep each person standing upright as if at attention. The people are moving at the same pace they were moving while waiting in line. One at a time, they approach what I now see is a large machine. There're two tube feeding into it.

The process looks similar to a large zipper mechanism. Two tubes feed in, and one larger tube is fed and fed out. These people are sheathed in their own tight wrapping, paired, and surrounded by the larger tube. This tube is being buried underground.

It's revealed that this is a telecommunications plot. Matrix-esque "the human body conducts electricity quite well" reasoning is used to explain the use of people as the filling for the large network's media. The camera remains focused on the empathy-inducing mindless expressions of each corpse. They're freshly dead, each one looks as if they would be suffocated when stuffed into this tube, if only they had survived the neck-break in the first place.

I'm horrified. I wake up, cold sweat and all.

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I had a couple other smaller ones, but they're not really as interesting or bizarre in a broad sense (bizarre to me, but there's not as much detail to relate and they simply aren't as interesting) so I'm not sharing them.

Any thoughts?

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EDIT: Completely unrelated, and entirely for your entertainment. The end result of an originally locked, subsequently unlocked, and now finally retired thread.