SPUTNIK BROADCAST

I was watching a cool music video where a woman with curly black hair sat by her window on a vintage house. Outside, there was water nearly reaching her. She pulled out of the water another lady with long blond hair. Then, she urged her bandmate, a pirate(?) to jump on the water. It seemed to be some kind of equivalent exchange.

Qilby from Wakfu was my biological father. He was surprisingly sweet and caring. It was also the biblical end of the world.

"BLIND LISA, BEWARE OF THE DOG."

Me and my friend somehow got stuck inside a computer desktop. It was old and laggy. I remember looking at the white sky and seeing the minimize, full screen and close tab buttons. I was worried about being stuck in there forever, but my friend was happy to be skipping classes. Later, we found more of my friends also stuck.

In another place there was an alleyway. It was gray and poorly rendered. Like, roblox graphics. In the end of the alley there was a black door that i never went inside. On the sides there were games/widgets/strange things.

A round, gray rock shaped like a wheel with a funny face. Overlaid, a cryptic piece of text (which i dont remember) in dark red papyrus font.
A cup of an alcoholic drink that was very sweet and fizzy, but to drink it you had to first plug it into an outlet.
A yellow doghouse with a small yellow dog sitting in front. The dog had googly eyes and was chained to a post. On his doghouse there was a simple piece of text in black, "Blind Lisa, beware of the dog". In the dream it made sense.

Anyways, the dog also seemed to be blind. If you touched it, it would follow you around by the smell. It started following me, rolling, as if it wasnt tied to anything at all.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, i was walking with my other friends. My oldest friend was including my closest friend in things we used to do together. But he was also brushing me off. Pushing me away. He said i didnt have to participate. It was a strange passing comment, but i felt like i was being replaced throughout the whole exchange.

Notes: My imposter syndrome seems to run deeper than i previously thought. Also, that yellow dog was starting to annoy me.

very long dead guitarrist dream (click to show)

For some reason, my parents were telling me about Metallica's guitarrist who had died. I went to see him with my dad. Out in the middle of the forest/fields, he was just laying there, DEAD. He had died years ago, but he was just there. like he'd just fallen on the ground. My dad told me to look through his pockets, and, fascinated, i did.

I found around five small rocks of different colors, all of them smooth and opaque and either light blue or red. And several rings. they were all inside a small pouch, but i ended up leaving the pouch itself behind (and regretting it later).

I was so enthralled by his story. He was learning alchemy. In alchemy (in my dream) there are rocks of three levels of power. One starter spell is to cast one world into a level one rock (the blue rocks). But the guitarrist had been researching, and found out how to cast several worlds in a three level stone (the red ones). It was illegal, i believe he was persecuted for it, and perhaps that's why he died.

I visited one of his worlds briefly. People with dragon wings flew boats to steal like pirates. It was a really short visit.

I couldn't stop thinking about the guitarrist. He plagued my every waking thought. No one knew him like i did. I just wanted to see him again. Lying there in the mud, near the crops.
Eventually, that urge won and i went to the place where he died again. I'd convinced myself i just wanted the pouch to keep my rocks.

But, there were people there. Because it was a school and his friends were there. In the place where he died, someone propped him up sitting, his friends were pretending he was alive. I didn't want to interrupt, after all i had no business with this man. I simply learned about his life story, but these people were actually part of it.

I kept the rocks and the rings and went out on a walk with them. At this point, i came to the conclusion i was in love with the guitarrist. I listened to his band, bought merch, yet in the end i just wanted to go there again. See his body.

The rest is foggy. I think i visited him once or twice more, but i don't remember.
I started slowly waking up and i felt disappointed that he or the rocks were not real. I remember vividly thinking about the surreality of being "in love with a dead guy who was never born".

notes:

guitarrist description: he was somewhere not too far from my house. He laid face down in the mud and his long brown hair covered his face. He had a great nose. I dont remember, but i think his friends had a bone to pick with me.

I should note that i don't listen to Metallica, couldn't recognize any of the band members in a crowd, and whoever their guitarrist is, they're definitely not the same as the guy in this dream.

During the day, i spilled vinegar in my left eye. During the night, i dreamt that mold grew in it. I can't remember the rest.