I had a very intense dream last night, after watching I DON’T FEEL AT HOME IN THIS WORLD ANYMORE and it may have had somewhat of an influence. However, I can faintly see pieces of the Kurt Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle in there as well. Weird, weird, weird, right? I had to write about it once I woke up, trying not to forget the details. It felt very cinematic. So here’s what I remember. Enjoy!
I’m walking in the rain. It’s foggy and I can’t quite see in front of me. Everything is a grayish-white haze, but I hear a truck coming up from behind me. It passes and stops just ahead of me. An arm swings open the passenger side door. Uneasy, but cautious I step forward. As I see the driver, I’m suddenly calmed because I recognize the man.
(I’m going to leave actual names out here, because this individual is someone I know in real life. In this instance, I shall call him John.)
I smile at John as he smiles back, asking if he can give me a ride. I shrug my shoulders and say, “Sure why not, I’m probably walking in circles out here anyways.” I climb in and we drive off. At some point we’re sitting in traffic. Cars are at a standstill. John mentions he had a dream about me. In his dream he says we had kids together. Instead of being freaked out, I ask what our kids’ names were and if they looked more like me or more like him. He laughed.
At this point I’m staring out the windshield and notice this massive truck that says “wide load” on the back of it, violently swaying in a very unusual way, like something is trying to escape. Suddenly the sounds of a chainsaw surge and it’s coming from the truck up ahead. People are starting to get out of their cars. Whatever this thing is, it unleashes complete havoc and people are all reacting in various strange ways. Some people are being sliced in half, some are being sucked out of the stratosphere, some our just floating in mid air, and people’s heads are exploding. John gets out of the truck and projectile vomits himself to death. Other people are smashing themselves against the cars as if radiation or whatever has scrambled their nervous system, brain motor function. They can’t control themselves. I get out of the truck, trying to figure out what to do next but suddenly my vision starts to fade along with my hearing. I feel like I’m going to faint, but I don’t. It’s like I’ve magically transported or (perhaps teleported) to the next scene. I’m in a strange laboratory. The lights are flickering. The power is being conserved in someway or maybe it’s on it’s last leg of generating electricity. I don’t know. I’m with a group of people like it’s some tour, except we’re heading to a weird platform and who do I see in a lab coat, with glasses, and a beard? Pierce Brosnan. And he’s no James Bond but some kind of obsessed scientist working on a something that’s clearly having an affect on humanity?
(Here’s where I see the Cat’s Cradle motif or perhaps how I’m currently envisioning the character of Felix Hoenikker being portrayed. It’s manifesting in my dreams. Strange, right?)
Brosnan is so encompassed with his work, all of his workers and followers treat him like he’s this glorious God, who in fact is playing God but is oblivious to the consequences it’s having on people. I make some correlation here that whatever he’s creating is destroying humanity against it’s will and I apparently say this out loud. He stares me down, with a dead silent stare. He hands over this mini fetus type thing to his lab aide, who’s actually Charlize Theron from Aeon Flux. I get the stare down from her too. She carefully takes the fetus thing and enters this tank full of what appears to be animatic fluid. I say something like, “I’m not even going to ask what she’s doing with that. This place is baddy.”
At this point, Brosnan takes me by the wrist angrily and nearly drags me down this eerie, damp hallway, doesn’t say a word. I’m freaked out. We get in an elevator and head down. I’m trying to figure out how to save myself from this creep, but am too scared to move. The elevator doors open and we walk into this enormous room that stretches what seems to be for miles. There are several rows of each of these mini fetus creatures all in fragments, some are assembled, some are missing parts, but it’s like a skewered assembly line. Brosnan pushes me into a seat in front of some fetus parts. As I look closer, I noticed their all made out of clay, with tiny bones. Brosnan sits besides me and says I’m going to show you how to sculpt their skeletal framework. At this point something sounds like it’s breaking through the walls. It gets louder and more intense. Pieces of the wall start to break apart, followed by pieces of the ceiling come crumbling down, like it’s an earthquake or we’re about to be taken over by something beyond our control. I start to get up, because I wanna run for my life, but Brosnan sternly shouts, “Sit down, it’s about to be finished.”
Moral of the story, don’t read Cat’s Cradle before bed especially when your mind is so heavily absorbed in it because you’ll wake up in a cold sweat, with a headache. This is probably the most intense dreams I’ve had in a long while. It also felt very cinematic that I had to quickly jot it all down and share. This may prompt me to write an X-Files spec script.