Today's dream: The institute and its people

in OCD5 years ago


Photo by Chalo Garcia on Unsplash

In a sense, the place could be described as sterile. It was immaculate and professional. The windows let in enough lights that electricity was barely necessary to make the rooms bright. The walls had a lot of glass to see to the rest of the floor. The stay was sweet and cosy because everything was either shiny or white. There was a bed in the middle, colourful flowers next to the outer wall, and a big glassy machine attached to the inner wall.

My family and the employees were lively and hectic. While they worked, I looked around, admiring the ambience. I do that a lot in real life. Still, in my dream, I have absolutely no idea why I was there, what anyone was doing, or whether I was me or someone else. I walked, heard their soothing voices, and I sighed in comfort.

I walked to my family when I was called, and I observed a young man. He was handsome, tall, and he was white with black hair and dark brown eyes. He may have been sweet and his smile charming, but he was obedient to a fault, and I was made aware that he was the property of the institute. In fact, the institute had many people like him, all virtually connected to a central mind at the core of this building. I looked around and saw a beautiful Asian woman who was similarly dependent. There were many more such people operating pieces of machinery, walking around and interacting with the guests.

I was called to observe a small operation that would require the young man to do a blood extraction. He pinched his arm with a big needle, and the blood started streaming out and up toward the machine on the wall. The tubes were transparent, and so was the machine. There was a glassy core in which the blood went, and it swooped out toward the centre of the building. There was a splash, a small electrical sound and blood ended up in places where it shouldn't have been.

The man looked around as if he were missing something. By his expression, I confirmed he had disconnected. I became very anxious. If the owners realised that he was unattached, would they come to terminate him? He was their property after all. I didn't know if I could help him out, or if this chaos would end in the man's death. What hurt me the most was that he had now become independent and free. If terminated, it would not be like a machine, but a full human who had just started to live and experience the beauty of the world. While he had lived for long, his independent thought was beginning, and he would fully understand what was happening. The room around me was so pretty that the contrast was distressing.

I woke up shortly afterwards, not knowing what happened.