I literally had a dream that predicted the worst year of my life, 5 years in advance, by having a friendly dream character tell me I died and went to a dream afterlife.
The catch was that I am autistic and I acted and act much like I did when I was 10 years old, and that was reflected by me taking the form of the kid sidekick in the fictional world that I was trying to write a story about at the time. I was told I was adorable and intelligent-looking (I was not the smartest kid but I was well-read and paid attention to what was in my textbooks) and not particularly unlikeable, and all of that was because that dream afterlife was a place where your personality determined your appearance. Yet despite the fact that I did not look monstrous or untrustworthy and that people who died quickly realised that in the dream world people are exactly what they appear to be, I was warned people would discriminate against me anyway, and there was nothing I or my apparent dream friend could do; said dream friend told me they thought I at least deserved to know it would happen and to just try and enjoy eternity, since I would never wake up, but that it would be hard because people would hate me unfairly.
I woke up anyway. That’s not why I call BS. I recorded that dream in a text file and I keep backups of all my unique files.
I’ll finish editing this soon but my phone is at 2% battery…
I will say, though, I don’t really have any stakes in this argument especially when you consider my contribution to humanity will probably be dead end evolutionary branch responsible for creating higher order carbon based polymers.
5 years later, sure enough, everything I value became critic-repellant in the writing industry; “you have to grow up”, “dark and edgy is realistic and realistic is mandatory”, “escapism is evil”, “children are spoiled little shits”, etc.
I now am extremely certain the dream characters who talk to me are avatars of my unconscious. I know that sounds really weird and I have no proof, so believing me on that detail can be taken with a grain of salt. As for my sanity, if I was crazy, I’d be seeing or hearing my unconscious while awake, I swear this is just in dreams that this being talks to me and it gives advice like “don’t worry about the average fictional character, they’re just inanimate puppets, it’s the ones who are people’s favorite hats to wear that - like you - are important because some hats are helmets that keep the wearer alive” rather than “KiLl EvErYoNe It WiLl Be FuN!!!11!1!” so my best guess is my unconscious mind is trying to communicate with me on a level my conscious and subconscious mindstates can understand.
I damn well know there’s more to dreams than they appear, that’s WHY I call BS, because a year ago, a dream character that was the first character to appear in two different dreams of mine since ever, and I asked it “Is there really a dream afterlife?” and it said “No.”
I also asked it in another dream to be sure, even broadening from “dream afterlife” to “any afterlife at all”, this time using an old red landline telephone and voice contact. In a snooty french accent, it confirmed and warned me very strongly and angrily not to ask again. The only upside is it said it didn’t know for sure whether it is possible to create an afterlife using technology and/or biology.
I’m sorry but unless someone builds one, there is no afterlife or ascension to another plane. I literally have the info directly from the source.
I wish I was making this up or delusional or cynical. I want more than anything for souls to be immortal. I would have no problem living in my dreams forever, but I’m not the one who said it (or if my unconscious counts as being me, I’m not able to type a fediverse post using the part of my mind which is more aware of why there’s no afterlife).
If anyone can post scientific evidence disproving how I’ve come to interpret what I experienced, I’m content to let that have the final say rather than make any attempt to dispute it. For now, I know it sounds insane but this is literally a Cassandra Truth, so at least recognise that I don’t expect you to believe it’s the truth, only to recognize that if ascending to the astral plane could be done, I would be persuing doing so at this very moment.
I’m sorry, but I know what happened between me and my unconscious mind, and I’m not just relying on my memories but also my now-decade old dream logs. I asked it for the honest truth. It said the truth is what I feared, death is not (yet?) followed by anything but oblivion.
To be fair, if you’re not happy about that concept, neither am I because fuck the Atheists and screw the guy who wrote His Dark Materials. I’m just one poorly-recieved sci-fi writer, though, I never even got to go to university. I am not qualified or capable of building an afterlife, or determining whether souls are singular entities unto themselves or merely a process that our minds use as “the third rail of the subconscious train of thought”, or testing if continuity of self across time is real or illusionary.
Aside from that, I will say one thing; I have never ingested hallucinogens, at least not to my knowledge, and I don’t go to parties or have any IRL friends. So no, you don’t get to say I’m high when the only way I got OUT of the maddening despair I experienced in 2017 was because my dreams helped pull me out of a complete mental breakdown. Fight me, I don’t care if you think I’m telling the truth and I don’t need you to believe your unconscious mind is somehow independently acting on your behalf, but don’t fucking tell me I’m not sober when I’ve been completely sober of everything including tobacco and alcohol my entire life.
I call bullshit. You know why?
I literally had a dream that predicted the worst year of my life, 5 years in advance, by having a friendly dream character tell me I died and went to a dream afterlife.
The catch was that I am autistic and I acted and act much like I did when I was 10 years old, and that was reflected by me taking the form of the kid sidekick in the fictional world that I was trying to write a story about at the time. I was told I was adorable and intelligent-looking (I was not the smartest kid but I was well-read and paid attention to what was in my textbooks) and not particularly unlikeable, and all of that was because that dream afterlife was a place where your personality determined your appearance. Yet despite the fact that I did not look monstrous or untrustworthy and that people who died quickly realised that in the dream world people are exactly what they appear to be, I was warned people would discriminate against me anyway, and there was nothing I or my apparent dream friend could do; said dream friend told me they thought I at least deserved to know it would happen and to just try and enjoy eternity, since I would never wake up, but that it would be hard because people would hate me unfairly.
I woke up anyway. That’s not why I call BS. I recorded that dream in a text file and I keep backups of all my unique files.
I’ll finish editing this soon but my phone is at 2% battery…
Please do.
I will say, though, I don’t really have any stakes in this argument especially when you consider my contribution to humanity will probably be dead end evolutionary branch responsible for creating higher order carbon based polymers.
5 years later, sure enough, everything I value became critic-repellant in the writing industry; “you have to grow up”, “dark and edgy is realistic and realistic is mandatory”, “escapism is evil”, “children are spoiled little shits”, etc.
I now am extremely certain the dream characters who talk to me are avatars of my unconscious. I know that sounds really weird and I have no proof, so believing me on that detail can be taken with a grain of salt. As for my sanity, if I was crazy, I’d be seeing or hearing my unconscious while awake, I swear this is just in dreams that this being talks to me and it gives advice like “don’t worry about the average fictional character, they’re just inanimate puppets, it’s the ones who are people’s favorite hats to wear that - like you - are important because some hats are helmets that keep the wearer alive” rather than “KiLl EvErYoNe It WiLl Be FuN!!!11!1!” so my best guess is my unconscious mind is trying to communicate with me on a level my conscious and subconscious mindstates can understand.
I damn well know there’s more to dreams than they appear, that’s WHY I call BS, because a year ago, a dream character that was the first character to appear in two different dreams of mine since ever, and I asked it “Is there really a dream afterlife?” and it said “No.”
I also asked it in another dream to be sure, even broadening from “dream afterlife” to “any afterlife at all”, this time using an old red landline telephone and voice contact. In a snooty french accent, it confirmed and warned me very strongly and angrily not to ask again. The only upside is it said it didn’t know for sure whether it is possible to create an afterlife using technology and/or biology.
I’m sorry but unless someone builds one, there is no afterlife or ascension to another plane. I literally have the info directly from the source.
I think Harry DuBois just traveled to our reality to write this post after taking a large amount of “Magnesium”
I wish I was making this up or delusional or cynical. I want more than anything for souls to be immortal. I would have no problem living in my dreams forever, but I’m not the one who said it (or if my unconscious counts as being me, I’m not able to type a fediverse post using the part of my mind which is more aware of why there’s no afterlife).
If anyone can post scientific evidence disproving how I’ve come to interpret what I experienced, I’m content to let that have the final say rather than make any attempt to dispute it. For now, I know it sounds insane but this is literally a Cassandra Truth, so at least recognise that I don’t expect you to believe it’s the truth, only to recognize that if ascending to the astral plane could be done, I would be persuing doing so at this very moment.
I’m sorry, but I know what happened between me and my unconscious mind, and I’m not just relying on my memories but also my now-decade old dream logs. I asked it for the honest truth. It said the truth is what I feared, death is not (yet?) followed by anything but oblivion.
To be fair, if you’re not happy about that concept, neither am I because fuck the Atheists and screw the guy who wrote His Dark Materials. I’m just one poorly-recieved sci-fi writer, though, I never even got to go to university. I am not qualified or capable of building an afterlife, or determining whether souls are singular entities unto themselves or merely a process that our minds use as “the third rail of the subconscious train of thought”, or testing if continuity of self across time is real or illusionary.
Aside from that, I will say one thing; I have never ingested hallucinogens, at least not to my knowledge, and I don’t go to parties or have any IRL friends. So no, you don’t get to say I’m high when the only way I got OUT of the maddening despair I experienced in 2017 was because my dreams helped pull me out of a complete mental breakdown. Fight me, I don’t care if you think I’m telling the truth and I don’t need you to believe your unconscious mind is somehow independently acting on your behalf, but don’t fucking tell me I’m not sober when I’ve been completely sober of everything including tobacco and alcohol my entire life.
Lieutenant…