James bond dream

I regain consciousness.

"Fully automatic?" I hear one guard ask. "Yes" is the response.

A blurry image of a guard loading up an AK-47, most likely to shoot me.

Like in any computer game, I quickly look around for objects to exploit for a quick escape. This is a hairy situation; 5 guys with fully automatic rifles, all about to shoot at me just as I am awakening. I realize that the use of "fully automatic" weapons is actually a clue for me; I can assume these bozos are stupid, suck at aiming, and will suffer from high recoil.

I spot a pile of explosives. I suddenly run towards the explosives. They shoot at me. Boom.

The force of the explosion throws me off my feet, but I quickly get up. The small hostage room in which I was held is now crumbling to the ground. Encompassing this hostage room is a house full of bad guys who were at a quiet meeting (murdering me was not the main event of this gathering) and are fortunately disoriented by the explosion. In the chaos and confusion that I have caused, with people screaming and bullets flying everywhere, I sprint out the large garage door of the house towards where my car is parked.

I hide behind a tree and bust out my James Bond remote control. My sleek car screams into the scene and halts near the house, where upwards of a hundred enemies are pursuing me. Remaining hidden behind the tree, I press one button on my remote. Instantly, upwards of a hundred micro-rockets are ejected from the car's roof -- one for each of my enemies. Every "rocket-propelled bullet" seeks and enters the skulls of my enemies and explodes inside their brains -- save one. One bullet has somehow only crippled, rather than killed, its intended target. The 50-yr-old man crawls towards me on his hands and knees.

"Oh well," I think to myself. What can he do anyway? I drive my car into the water, where it transforms into a speedboat. Somehow the 50-yr-old has developed superhuman crawling/swimming abilities and is in hot pursuit of my car/boat. He grabs onto the side of my boat. He uses telepathy to instill scary images in my mind: I hallucinate that I am now underwater in an eerie green light. Right in front of me dangles the elongated, misshapen white skeleton leg of some emaciated white creature with a distorted face.

I am freaking out so I wake up. Sleep paralysis ensues. When this happens I usually try to use my working muscles -- fingers, sometimes hands, sometimes a bit of arm -- to make some noise to wake myself up; IT NEVER WORKS. This time I tried a REALLY LOUD SNORE, because apparently I can control my snoring muscles while sleep-paralyzed. The snore fails to jerk me awake and in fact only succeeds in scaring me more, making me panic. Seconds later I wake up and can move all my muscles -- phewphf.

Cancerous Salmon Sashimi

Raw text (tldr version):

Pop out flowers salmon poison strip accidental in mouth back in time correct, but still aftertaste. Professor says imposs to correct because of Heisenberg/Schrodinger riddle/questions involving schrodinger cat. students say it will correct but professor is right. another girl dies I start throwing up, sort of feel it is dream but not sure

With details ("I like reading Max's dreams" version):

At an expensive restaurant, I am served an exquisite salmon sashimi dish. When I open the lid, a pop-out book mechanism causes some small flowers to pop out. Beneath the flowers lies the prized fish. The cook explains that each strip of sashimi is covered with a strip of poison; as long as you remove the strip and do not put the strip in your mouth, the food is completely safe.

Well lo and behold somehow I find myself chewing on this poisonous strip that I had just removed from my fish. "How did that get in my mouth?" I wonder. Incidentally, a generic girl beside me had suffered a similar fate; she too accidentally put the poison strip in her mouth. Anyway, it is too late. I am going to die from the cancer that this poison gives me. Ah, but maybe I can go back in time to remedy the problem by NOT eating the poisonous strip.

I ask my quantum physics professor (not a real person in real life): "If I go back in time and avoid eating the poison, will that fix everything?" The professor answers in the negative. I am greatly confused by this, since common sense would say that going back in time and avoiding the poison WOULD fix the problem. I ask some of the professor's students this very same question and they answer, "Yes, of course it would work." So I go back to the professor and he proceeds to explain exactly why it wouldn't work. It is a very complex explanation involving several case studies of experiments by Heisenberg and Schrodinger's cat. One such research article was titled something like "Heisenberg, Schrodinger, and a cat." The results of these experiments imply that going back in time to change something will have no effect on the resulting state of the universe; despite how hard you try, even if you blow up a building, in 5 minutes everything will have returned to normal. It is all very confusing to me but gradually I begin to be convinced that the professor is correct, even though I do not understand the proof at all.

So I try it. I go back in time. I carefully avoid eating the poison. I even avoid eating the fish entirely. Yet, just as the professor had predicted, 5 minutes later I can feel that all-too-familiar bitter aftertaste of the cancerous poison in my mouth, despite that I had not ingested anything! I realize that the quantum physics professor knew what he was talking about, and there is no way to remedy my situation.

A few days later I learn that the girl who also ate the poison strip had died. Her exposure was far more severe, because she chewed on it longer than I did whereas I spit it out almost immediately, so she died first. Nonetheless, I knew my end would come eventually. Already, I was feeling sick. Moments later I threw up. Some generic people beside me (only my sister is recognizable) tried to comfort me. I tasted the vomit carefully, trying to decide whether or not all of this was a dream. The feeling of vomiting and the taste/texture of vomit both felt quite real. I felt a bit dreamy but that could have been explained by an altered state of mind brought about by the sickness. I could not make a decision on whether or not I was dreaming, until I woke up.

In Which I Kill Wall-E

We are in sweet tomatoes when the fire alarm goes off. We all evacuate the building and go towards our car. 4 people are following us and trying to make conversation about the alarm. We soon realize they are only trying to mug us; they set up the alarm to evacuate the people from the restaurant to prevent any witnesses from seeing them through the window.

So as this gang is trying to mug us, the 3 other family members get in the car. A big black dude puts me in a leg bar but I break free and punch his head into concrete, because I am just that awesome. As my dad starts driving the van forward, the other three muggers chase me. One grabs me by the waist just as I am swinging onto the roof of the van. The mugger turns into a big (human-sized) evil version of Wall-e. I lean forward and throw the wall-e forwards such that he lands on the ground in front of the van.

My dad does not run him over and keeps driving. That was a mistake. Wall-e gets back up and fires two precision laser shots, disabling our back tires. Now the car is inching forward only very slowly and wall-e is about to get us. I grab a long pole and start banging wall-e's head from side to side until his head comes off. Now he is blind. For good measure I walk him and pull his arms out of their sockets and then his legs. Then I crush his torso. Now he is just pieces of scrap metal.

I wake up very sad that the plot had to end this way. Wall-e used to be a very cute robot and only recently turned evil. I talk to my sister about my dream. "What an ingenious plot device by the director of Wall-e," I tell her, "to have the AUDIENCE kill wall-e at the end! That makes it extra sad since wall-e used to be so cute."

Then after a moment I realize that my dream wasn't the same as the actual plot in the movie. So I say, "Wow, I'm going to write down my dream because my plot is way more dramatic/intense than the movie plot."

Then I wake up for real.

parkour/judo dream

I remember towards the end of my dream that I open my backyard gate a bit and peer outside, watching the silhouette of some dude my age walking towards me. I feel that he is hostile so I start to run back and he fires a couple of shots at me.

I parkour over my backyard's tall cement fence. Since he can't parkour he has to go all the way around to get his car first, during which I hit the emergency red button on an emergency post.

A police car who received my distress call zooms by and a backpack is flung out its window into my arms. I reach into the bag; the policeman has provided me a pistol with which to defend myself.

The antagonist, who is now my friend Sid, has finally found his car and is driving towards me. I shoot at him and his accomplice directly in the head, but either I miss or they have hard heads. Then they get out of their car and run towards me. Finally I drop one of the one who is not Sid after multiple head shots. The other guy (who is also not Sid anymore) runs up to me and I do ouchi-gari on him and then try to get into an advantageous ground position to pin him.

All this time the police officer is just sitting there in his car watching the show.

Emo Dream -- Girlfriend Murderer (featuring an original soundtrack by Max Loh!)

The first thing I remember is having a gas-leaking canister shoved in my face.

I'd been walking down a slope towards my UC Berkeley dormitory late at night. This creepy Asian guy in a hooded black sweater had walked towards me and shoved a small smoke-emitting object at my nose.

I felt dazed, even high, and could barely think. Clearly, this gas was potent and life-threatening. (The thing about the dream-state is that it can simulate drugs very, very convincingly. This is because dreaming and being high are quite similar experiences. So I truly believed that this was real and I was going to die.) Immediately I turned away, held my breath, and began to run away from the dormitory. The murderer paused for a moment, then decided not to give chase; he only had a limited amount of time before he either got caught or died, and his target was the dormitory building full of sleeping students.

I ran to the outdoors dining area, which resembled the lunch area in Harvest Park Middle School. Though it was late at night, there were large crowds of people eating there, so I felt safe. I grabbed my phone and flipped it open, still feeling high/dazed. The phone's advanced AI knew I was in danger and therefore automatically dialed the local "911," which was 0900. When greeted by the female receptionist, the first thing I said was, "I'm high." This turned out to be a retarded decision, since it was followed by a slew of "reassurances."

"There's this guy -- " I kept saying, but was constantly interrupted by "calm down, calm down, it's okay." Finally I erupted and yelled "WILL YOU PLEASE JUST LET ME FINISH WHAT I'M SAYING!!!" and they became silent.

"There's this guy with a canister... and it's emanating gas!"

"We were told that 10 times already, Max. Victims are to meet at the east edge of Telegraph Avenue," the 911 girl said. Apparently they had already gotten numerous 911 calls from the dormitory building. Also, the 911 girl recognized my voice. Interesting (NOT AN IMPORTANT PLOT POINT).

So I start to make my way towards Telegraph. Although I am walking through a residential area, dense crowds of people fill the streets, perhaps walking towards the same meeting spot due to the current murder situation.

Someone calls me from an anonymous number. I pick up, "Hello?"

"Where are you?"

"Huh? Who are you?" I retort.

"I'm... Stanley..." says the man at the other end of the line. Then I hear him laughing with his friends just before he hangs up on me, saying "damn I fucked that up so bad." The murderer had attempted and failed to determine my location by calling me.

The murderer is clearly after me, but the crowds are so dense that I feel safe hiding amongst the multitude of faces. Unfortunately, before long one of the murderer's accomplices spies me and yells, "Here's Max!" The killer, who had been walking in front of me, turns around and runs after me. The people around us don't know what's going on, so they try to restrain both of us. I tell the guy who's restraining me, "That guy is going to literally murder me. He's a killer." He lets me go. Still, the murderer approaches rapidly, and I am running very slowly due to low-gravity dream-running. "Were I wearing my running shoes," I tell myself, "I'd be able to outrun this guy easily."

I parkour onto a thin ledge about 5 feet above the ground and grab hold of the chain link fence behind it. My real-life girlfriend and dream-world ex-girlfriend Fernanda emerges from the crowd. She is the murderer (due to a dream detail glitch, I have forgotten about the creepy Asian guy and therefore changed the identity of the murderer). It is raining. Her skin is wet, and her hair long like when we first met. She pleads with me to take her back, because apparently I had time to break up with her earlier when I found out she was a murderer. Naturally, I tell her that I broke up with her because she became a murderer, and I ask her why she tried to gas me. She ignores the question and continues to beg me to take her back. A small crowd has gathered around the scene. I gaze down at her from the ledge. She is so beautiful, and I yearn for her. Yet, she is insane and will attempt to kill me again if we get back together. I am torn and begin to cry. Soundtrack to this scene: a 2-measure phrase that I subconsciously composed that loops over and over again, included here. I made this in two seconds using Logic Pro.

The end.


Representative of the murderer's garbs, but not the setting.

Thriller Dream (with turret guns)

Many of you who have thriller dreams probably call them "nightmares." Personally, I love thriller dreams; they are fun. Nightmares are not happy; they scare you, make you wake up, make you spasm, make you "sleep terror" when you open your eyes but can't move any other muscle... but thriller dreams? Ultimate action/horror movie!

Which is why I thought it was really funny when I remembered the last (actually the first in my dream's chronological order) detail of my dream: That I rejoined AiR (artists in resonance, acapella group I dropped out of) and was singing "Thriller" by Michael Jackson.

I was inside a crowd of people, dancing along with them to the choreography of Thriller (which I never quite got down). I quickly realized that the people in this crowd were not AiR members.

Looking in front of me, I saw all the actual AiR members across from us, dancing the correct choreography in front of us so that we -- the ignorant crowd -- could learn the moves. I also noticed that there weren't just AiR members teaching us the moves: even the little brothers and sisters of AiR members were dancing to Thriller (though they kept looking backwards to check if they were doing the right moves).

...Somehow, one of the people in my crowd went all crazy and sparked some series of events that led to the following series of events...



We are inside a huge skyscraper on a rather high floor. Some evil woman has managed to gather everyone up inside a dark room -- my friend David is pretty much the only guy I can recognize beside me (the AiR members have disappeared from this scene). The evil woman is going to kill us.

She activates motion sensor laser beams that slowly sweep the room, scanning for any signs of motion. These are accompanied, of course, by machine gun turrets that suddenly pop out of the walls. Everyone cowers in fear and remains still. I am shaking as the laser beam glides across my body in search of movement.

Finally, the gun turrets begin to retract. However, the lasers are still out. Having played too many computer games, I know intuitively that as long as the motion sensor is still out, the gun turrets will magically pop out and shoot at us when any motion is detected. Others do not share my belief, and before I can yell "stay still!" they begin to shuffle restlessly.

Having only seconds to react, I think only for myself (as I always do in my dreams) and RUN THE FUCK OUT OF THE ROOM, which is probably what ACTUALLY triggers the gun turrets. I discover that there are more turrets outside of the room, placed strategically and at regular intervals on the ceiling and walls. Again, having played too many computer games, I intuitively know that gun turrets can take up to 5 seconds to lock on to a target before actually firing. This is probably why I am able to traverse the hall and set off the alarm beeps of several machine guns without actually being shot at even once.

I make my way to the elevator and stairs, but I am met by a closed gate -- similar to the gates one sees in small shops at the mall when they close. Fortunately, the door to my right leads to a side-room that bypasses the gate. I enter this room and exit through the other door, finding myself on the opposite side of the gate. "What an easy puzzle," I think to myself.

The stairs and elevator are right in front of me and I happily run towards -- whoa, what? There's a random hottie running from the OPPOSITE end of the hallway that I came from! She must have escaped, just like me, but from an entirely different room. The elevator reads "G" so we're like "fuck dat shit" and take the stairs.

There are gun turrets on the stairs, too, but we are adept at leaping down stairs quickly, so the guns do not have time to lock on. As we leap down the stairs, I ask, "What's your name?" She says, "Max." "OH REALLY ME TOO!!!!!"

We reach the bottom edge of the stairs and exit the building through a door nearby. It is nighttime. My car is parked in the parking lot. I take out my BMW keys, expecting her to get in the car with me so we can escape (and then have sex), but I am disappointed when she gets out her own key, hops into her Corvette, and zooms away.

I get inside my BMW. Somehow, people are already outside. David calls me a "hjomo," as he often does in real life. One zombie-looking guy lumbers along, sees me through the windshield of my car, and yells "FUCK YOU!" slamming my windshield. Apparently, these people are very mad at me for having ditched them in the dark room scene. Perhaps some people died to the gun turrets after all. I hastily drive away.

While driving, I experience "dream driving" (having to press down the brakes super hard just to stop quickly enough at a red light, overshooting the pedestrian line by almost 10 feet, etc.), and I wonder if I am somehow drunk.

Some very, very interesting shit happens here that I cannot remember. I think it involves people trying to kill me.



Now I am walkin' along, walkin' along Santa Rita Road on the sidewalk adjacent to Amador Valley High School. It is broad daylight, but no time seems to have passed. I ask a passing jogger if he knows anything about my situation, or if he knows why everyone is trying to kill me. He tells me to fuck myself.

Now I am walkin' along, tight walkin' along the top edge of the chain-link black fence that runs across the sidwalk adjacent to Amador Valley High School. I spot my friend in a small group of people hanging out on the sidewalk. He has grungy long white hair, seems stoner-ish, and does not exist in real life. But he is my friend, who shall henceforth by known as "David" (in further interpretation I have concluded that this is the white stoner version of David). I walk along the fence, up to this group of people. Most people hurl insults at me.

I begin to ask David why everyone wants to kill me. As I do this, I lose my balance on the fence and fall towards the ground, but David stabilizes me with a helping hand. This moves me, because he is the only person that would ever do that; everyone else just wants to kill me. I forget my burning question, and simply tell him, "You are my only friend."

Then, freakishly and randomly, David points his finger at the sand on the ground (yes, pretend there is sand on the ground on the sidewalk) and lifts it using telekinetic powers. He draws two large footprints in the sand without ever touching it, and says, "I can curse people like this."

I express my confusion, so he continues, "I am cursing your age, meaning that everyone who is about as old as you will die off. It's already happening; it's making people insane and they're killing each other."

One boy in the group randomly shoots his girlfriend.

"See?" says David. "The only way to stop the effect is by killing yourself. These people want you dead, and my curse is helping them achieve that goal."

I become frightened. The only reason I can think of for all of this madness is that people must be extremely angry that I set off the turret alarms back in that dark room and ditched them. Something tells me the evil woman is also involved in this plot to have me kill myself.

But before I can even react or respond to this, Mr. Hanson (my high school math teacher) walks back to the group with a pistol. He intends to kill everyone in this group to stop the madness and the dying, to stop the effects of David's "cursing someone's age," to stop things from spreading beyond the group -- such as the random boy shooting his girlfriend.

Everyone freaks out and wrestles for the gun, but Mr. Hanson maintains hold of it. He skillfully and quickly begins firing, shooting one person at a time, putting one bullet into each person's body. Everyone runs radially outward, including myself, but most are already dead.

When he aims at me, I hit the deck at a superhuman speed (not as fast as a bullet, but faster than Mr. Hanson's reaction time) and perform the most astonishing dodge ever known to mankind, and Mr. Hanson misses his shot for the first time.

Then he shoots me in the head.

Everything goes dark dark. But at least I can visualize the words "25 degrees Celsius" in my head. I thought: as long as I am thinking, I am not dead. I wake up.