Dream Journal

What follows is a sort of dream diary I jotted down one morning. It's not any sort of prose or anything. It's just the thoughts and ideas and feelings I had immediately waking from this dream. I typed it up into a Google Docs file and have since forgotten about it.

I named it Weaver House, because the Remington House is already taken. Most people don't want to hear about other people's dreams. I don't blame you if you quit reading this now. But I wanted to just put this out as a curious study into psychology. When I reread this, I could very clearly recall the emotions and visions I experienced when I first woke up. I didn't use direct names. I even realized that when I said "Victorian" before I kind of meant more "Southern Plantation". But whatever, it is what I wrote when I first recorded it. Enjoy. Weaver House Dream

… river ride, fishing maybe, boats

… out of the way, idk what state

… known place, as in popular, but no governments seemingly care, and some people seem drawn to the place and its mind-altering reputation like a drug or escape

… Victorian maybe... front covered porch opens up to river, three-season porch on 2nd floor above it. rear porch on SE corner of house.

Walk inside, entry way opens onto wide living room. pillars form a wall. walk left, and see recliners and a coffee table against north wall. across from north door is a couple of bedrooms on south wall. (uncle sits in one watching over a lost cousin). Left of the bedrooms are stairs that go up (IDK what’s on the 2nd floor. Get the feeling like an old couple (Cobb and Mal in limbo) is up there. left of stairs is kitchen and back porch.

spiderwebs in the house, even though you know people walked through this way minutes ago. not quite dusty, but unused. dirty windows let no light through. dark and heavy air inside

entering the house, one feels the sense of still oppression. after a while, one senses an encroachment on their mind, but can’t quite put a finger on it. feeling of something gnawing away at the back of your consciousness, but not quite dread, not despair. Just blackness (not visual), void of thought (subconscious pushing through?).

fear the place as you enter

go to bedroom where uncle is sitting next to a bed, cousin laying almost comatose with a lazy lost look in his eyes, like slow to move to whatever stimulus. feverish without the sweat. get the feeling that being here in this state is a last-ditch effort to cure the condition, not cause it.

others around you start to change. some become different people (victorian?) complete with different clothes (possible hallucinations but you don’t know that). the real world is overlayed by some possessed vision. Sunlight (outside) seems to bring people back to themselves, but they never know they were gone.

outside, headcount of group, notice brother is missing. start yelling for him, see him in 3-season above porch (even with the screens, he’s “inside” the house’s grasp) someone in group (former relative by marriage maybe) runs in to rescue him, lays him in the sunlight as he comes to. this hero decides to stay in the illusion (Cypher from The Matrix).