The Disinformation Agent (my_kakistocracy) wrote in dream_beans,
The Disinformation Agent

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Dream Journal November 27, 2004

I’m writing this in the morning so I don’t forget. This dream was pretty vivid, and so far I remember a lot of direct conversations. It’s about evil corporations putting chips in people’s brains, how can you not want to read it? Heh. Here goes.

I was not myself in this dream (actually I rarely am). I was a fourteen-year-old girl named Mia. I was tall, and thin, with short, erratically cut light brown hair. I had a sister, who was six. She had long, dark, curly black hair and was rather chubby. I think her name was Carrie. The dream opened with me sitting with my dad (not my dad in real life) on the couch in my living room. Carrie was sitting on the floor, playing with a toy truck. I glanced over at my dad, and caught a glimpse of something underneath the hair on the back of his neck. It looked sort of like a barcode one finds on clothing tags. I brushed back the hair and squinted at it.
“What’s that?” I finally asked.
He explained to me it was a mark that the Company (where everyone in the town seemed to work, somehow it sounded capitalized) gave to him. I thought that was a horrible thing to do to someone, but he seemed okay with it. He also told me he had a chip in his brain they had given him.
“Really!?” I asked, aghast.
“Yes, when they do it now the subjects don’t remember, but back in the day---well. It’s not that big of a deal, it’s only this big.” He held out his fingers to demonstrate a space about a half a centimeter in length. He then informed me I was going to get one soon. I freaked out.
“It’s okay,” he told me, “really. They’re only this big.” He held out his fingers again, this time making the space even smaller. I was not convinced.
Suddenly, it was the next day and we were at the Company headquarters. My sister and I found ourselves in the room in which the procedure was to be done. It was a large room, separated in the middle into two by a large glass wall with a door in the middle. The outside walls were glass, too. One looked out into the interior of the building, where there was exercise equipment. The far wall looked out to the outside parking lot. It was snowing. Inside the room I was in, there was a large computer monitor on the wall and a bank of buttons and switches. In the second room, there was a row of metal tables and what looked like surgical equipment. There was a lot of bustling going on, stern people in white lab coats were going between the two rooms, preparing. I was scared, and angry. How dare they do this to me? I looked out the window to the outside, and my grandfather was there (again, not the same grandfather in real life). He was gray haired and was wearing an orange ski jacket and a knit cap. I yelled through the glass at him.
“I don’t want to do this!” I screamed.
“What, are you too conservative to get tracking chips put in your head?”
“I guess so. They have no fucking right to do this to me!” My grandfather looked shocked. “And no,” I continued, “I am NOT too conservative to swear!”
“You should never take the Lord’s name in vain.” He admonished.
“I DIDN’T. I said—well, actually, I said something worse but it had nothing to do with God. I—“ Just then the middle door opened and some people came in to the room. I turned around. I yelled and screamed a bit, but then a white-coat person told me that when I was sixteen, I could join the army. This was the Company army, mind you. That pissed me off even more, but I didn’t want to get these people mad. Then they started rounding up the people that were milling about the two rooms and packed them all into one. However, they overlooked me. Some people who were in the gym room peered inside, excited.
“Hey, some newbies are getting chipped—good luck, guys!” They waved fanatically until a woman in a while coat went around spraying all the outside windows with a white substance that came from a sliver canister. Crouched behind one of the computer terminals, I watched what was going on the other room. The people were lying on the tables, and they were getting branded on the forehead with words. It obviously hurt a lot, but it didn’t leave a mark. Instead, these were words they were supposed to think about often, generally about their loyalty to the Company. It ‘burned’ them onto their minds, so to speak.
“Come on.” I grabbed my little sister’s hand. “We’re getting out of here.” I pushed open the door and ran into the parking lot. I slipped on snow and scraped my knee on the asphalt, but kept running. I heard an alarm sound from inside the building. We kept running, but there was nowhere to hide, and they were coming after us. I stopped in front of a car, a Miata. I looked at the car. “Miata. I said to myself. Miata Miata Miata.” I wanted to have a word that when I saw after my mind was wiped after this experience, that would trigger memories. So I would remember what they’d done to me. They caught us and dragged us back inside. This time, there was no delay. I was immediately placed onto one of the metal tables, my hands were restrained at my sides. I didn’t struggle, though. I had one up on them. Somehow, I had changed one of the words on the brands to be “Miata.” The woman who was overseeing the procedure looked at it strangely.
“Is Miata your name?”
“Yes.” I lied, “Mia. Miata.”
“No, it’s Miaelle—“ my little sister chimed in innocently. Luckily, the woman didn’t hear. She lifted the black metal instrument above my forehead.
“I won’t lie to you.” She said curtly, “This is going to hurt. A lot.” I watched it come down, afraid. When it touched my skin, it burned horribly. Hot. I kept thinking, “hot hot hot hot hot.” I hoped that if I connected the word with this experience, I’d remember it also, if someone happened to say it later. Everything faded, and I was back at my house, blissfully ignorant of what had happened. I was in the living room with three friends. I looked out the window, there was a black car parked in our yard. I had a twinge of a weird feeling, but quashed it down. My friends and I went into the back yard, which was expansive. There was a little blue cottage where our gardener lived, but he wasn’t around at the moment so we poked around inside of it. Then we went downtown, and walked for a bit. Downtown there was a huge electric billboard that said “EBAY” on it. It recorded bids on ebay; every time a new bid was placed it would flash up on the sign. It was a ticket to the world series that was for sale, and so far the bid was $11000.
“I can’t believe people would pay so much to see a stupid baseball game.” My friend said.
“Heh. I know.” The bidding had stopped now at 23 thousand dollars. We meandered until we were back at my house, then we walked to the top of my yard where there was a swimming pool. It was a nice pool, with rocks and trees surrounding it. We swam for a bit, then I realized one of my friends was missing.
“Where’s Lila?” I asked. Another friend shrugged when Lila came running breathlessly up to us. She was wearing what looked like a red prom dress.
“Why are you wearing that?” I inquired.
“Oh.” She giggled. “I have a hot date.” I got that weird feeling again.
“A hot date?”
“Yes. Oh my god, he’s SO hot. I mean, just PURE hotness.”
“Hot. Hot. Hot.” I was mumbling to myself. Everything about the procedure in the Company building was flooding back to me at the mention of that word.
“Mia, what is your problem?” Lila said, concerned. “I could set you up with someone, too. There’s this guy—“
I jumped out of the pool. I had to go fix this. They wouldn’t get away with it. It was time to stop the Company and its evil deeds once and for all. AND THEN MY DOG WOKE ME UP. I just about killed him. BAH.
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