over the past several days, the visually intense dreams have started again, vivid dreams, memorable dreams. It all started a few days ago when a being of very intense points of light came for a visit. The points of light were primary colours, like the colours in the original Tempest game. Tempest looked just like that graphic there. But, in the next dream, an old games-industry boss tasked me to update Tempest as a totally realistic 3D-shooter. Kinda like playing Spiderman crawling up walls and such while the enemies approached. Then came Tempest's spikes. Remember those. You don't wanna catch yourself Levelling Up on a spike'd trail. Especially not when those spikes are employed by who you consider to be an intelligence colleague in a 1950's brothel. This big fat older man, this spy or agent, through whose eyes I was looking, was interrupted in prostitute coitus and then his tongue was deadened with what I thought was a serious opiate overdose but remember a name like Sodium Pentathol. Syringe went deeper than I expected. My face went numb then he started interrogating me with these long spikes. Pushing the thing in through bone and I was thinking that this was an anti-gravity wire able to just plow through any material. "What's your name?" my intel colleague asked. "Frank." I lied so he knew we were testing the system.In the background was this music track or band playing, "I get no kick from cocaine. Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all. I get a kick out of you." But this wasn't a test, and the torture got amazingly vindictive with the metal spikes into my face, and an alien life form dropped from the ceiling like a blob of mercury, that I forced myself awake. My clock showed 0455 hours, in case you're keeping track. It all came across like a Double Cross or BURN or WARNING.
Debate Magazine
TEMPEST Dream - 1950's Facial Torture - I Get No Kick from Cocaine
Posted on the 27 June 2014 by Freeplanet @CUST0D1ANover the past several days, the visually intense dreams have started again, vivid dreams, memorable dreams. It all started a few days ago when a being of very intense points of light came for a visit. The points of light were primary colours, like the colours in the original Tempest game. Tempest looked just like that graphic there. But, in the next dream, an old games-industry boss tasked me to update Tempest as a totally realistic 3D-shooter. Kinda like playing Spiderman crawling up walls and such while the enemies approached. Then came Tempest's spikes. Remember those. You don't wanna catch yourself Levelling Up on a spike'd trail. Especially not when those spikes are employed by who you consider to be an intelligence colleague in a 1950's brothel. This big fat older man, this spy or agent, through whose eyes I was looking, was interrupted in prostitute coitus and then his tongue was deadened with what I thought was a serious opiate overdose but remember a name like Sodium Pentathol. Syringe went deeper than I expected. My face went numb then he started interrogating me with these long spikes. Pushing the thing in through bone and I was thinking that this was an anti-gravity wire able to just plow through any material. "What's your name?" my intel colleague asked. "Frank." I lied so he knew we were testing the system.In the background was this music track or band playing, "I get no kick from cocaine. Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all. I get a kick out of you." But this wasn't a test, and the torture got amazingly vindictive with the metal spikes into my face, and an alien life form dropped from the ceiling like a blob of mercury, that I forced myself awake. My clock showed 0455 hours, in case you're keeping track. It all came across like a Double Cross or BURN or WARNING.
