Time shifts to dawn and we arrive at the main train station in Brno. He starts taking me down some hallways and spaces I've never noticed there and suddenly bursts into a jog. What's going on here? Am I being trolled? I thought I was the one that would be pursued. Eventually, I catch up with him and pin him down in a corner of a room. "Alright, you got me. Let's continue." Entering an inconspicuous door deep in the station, we enter what seems to be a normal public office, full of bureaucrats shifting paper stacks and everything. Walking through the office corridors and backrooms, we eventually approach a steel blast-resistant door. It sounds as heavy as it looks when being opened. We find ourselves in a bustling factory full of young people, some of them my age, most of them younger. There's a few that look as young as 16. There's dim sunlight coming through the thick glass windows, so I guess this place isn't entirely underground, but it has been concealed quite well. The first department I see is about... baking bread? Some of the kids I see are working hard, many others are just doing the bare minimum to get by and some are openly slacking. I don't get to linger here too much, as the cop - now being slightly less uniformed and wearing a yellow helmet - keeps briskly walking through the factory. "Please follow me." You're not making that very easy.
After taking turns through a few more parts of the factory, the cop gets too ahead of me and I come to a three-way junction, not knowing which way he went. I decide to go forward through a gate rimmed with yellow industrial lights and see a large, segmented plastic curtain to my left, with the same exact lights. I peek in and catch a glimpse of a department with computers, still against the same industrial backdrop but a little tidier this time. I immediately get hit with a wall of shouts. "Don't enter, you dumb fuck! The lights! Haven't you seen them?" I walk back, but decide not to cave in. "Hey, I'm new here so I didn't know. I was trying to follow this guy and got lost in here." A wave of laughter erupts from the department but they seem to accept that explanation. Oh well. Might as well wait here, I'm sure that the guy (at this point I don't think he was actually a cop) will return. Looking around, I see some dashboards with what seem to be class diagrams and try to overhear some of the chatter coming from behind the curtain... this is a programming department, isn't it? These guys do seem a little smarter than the rest, after all. From what I've gathered, some of them seem to be working on some internal information system.
After a minute, the guy reappears and I quickly tell him what happened and how I lost my way. "Oh... the gate shouldn't be yellow. Looks like some trickster flipped the color." He walks up to a switch at the wall and flips it, immediately turning the lights at the gate white. Another wave of laughter seeps through the curtain, this time way more quiet and nervous.
We proceed through the hallways and get into a segment of the factory which seems to be unused for now. The air here is considerably moister, walls painted with colorful fungus. The man descends down a ladder into a vertical shaft that looks like it should be closed off, and starts wrenching some mechanisms in there. I decide not to head down. I think I'm starting to get the big picture. "It's an interesting place, I like it in a way. Looks kinda punk." "Yeah, haha." "Is this, like, a correctional facility? Some place for juvenile delinquents where they actually get to apply themselves?" "That's right." "Oh... I already have a nice job though." "Right, you can actually leave at any time. But, you know, you're the first one that came here voluntarily." Somehow I'm not surprised hearing that. "Hey, I looked into your background a little. If you're familiar with functional programming, we would certainly have a use for that." "Huh. I mean, I took a few classes, but I'm not an expert or anything." "Oh, that's completely fine. Just understanding it would be enough to get you started." I guess that wouldn't be so bad. It sounds like it wouldn't pay so much, but I was already dearly missing the times when I had to do manual labor and this looks like an environment that I could enjoy working in. Insane in a way but certainly more interesting than a boring corporation.
After a short while, the man emerges from the hole and we continue our tour of the factory. We arrive at a section that's smaller but none the less lively. Apparently the girls and boys here have completely abandoned the central pit they were supposed to be digging and descended into chatting and shouting. Some of the guys, clad in black shirts and sweatpants, notice us and immediately approach me. "Hey dude, are you new here?" "Yes, kind of." I'm actually not sure yet, but it doesn't sound so bad. "Cool. Are you into any sports?" Shit. I try to quickly come up with an answer that would be normie enough but not a lie. "Ah, well, right now I'm just lifting weights but I've been thinking about starting some martial art, maybe brasilian jiu jitsu." The guy lights up. "Wow, jiu jitsu is dope," he says and instanly starts doing kick flips. Impressive. The older man is trying to get their attention, either to reprimand them or to give them further instructions. Unfortunately, the guys and gals have just started throwing themselves into the shallow pit in an attempt to create some sort of compact pyramid. I can't deny that it looks very fun, but I decide to help him and tap a few guys on the shoulders, telling them to stop for a second. Somehow they actually obey the suggestion and a calm wave begins to spread through the entire group. Suddenly, as if to not stop the party, this tubby guy in a corner starts singing a song in Russian and most of the youths gradually join him as the room slowly descends into mild, jolly chaos again. Man, I really like the spirit of these kids but I think there are more urgent matters right now. I gesture to one of the guys to be silent and he surprisingly obeys me. Who would have guessed that I had this ability all along? Actually being a foreman could be fine as well, kind of like being a manager but less cringe. Just gently wrangling manual laborers to get back to work.
- - -
While waiting for the mess to calm down, slipping out of the dream a bit, I notice that I have been sleeping on my arm all along and try to gently get it from under myself. Rays of sunlight hit my face and combined with the motion, the dream gradually dissipates. The scenes are still burned into my memory but the realization that I have been dreaming sets in and my brain is unable to keep automatically weaving the story anymore. It is what it is.
john paul grips (grips@cawfee.club)'s status on Thursday, 18-Apr-2024 02:48:02 JST
john paul gripsI think you remember the story about how I went drinking with friends, blacked out and came to my senses on a distant tram stop about four hours later, mostly functional and standing normally. (Cawfee note: you don't.) Today it looked like I could finally get some answers in my dream, but then again, dreams always take their own path.
The next chapter of that story starts in a pub or a restaurant in a town unknown to me. It seems that we were on vacation, because me, my girlfriend, my family and some extended family all entered the restaurant together. My parents were worn out from the long day and suggested having a few glasses of wine, which my and my girlfriend readily agreed to. The others just scattered around and did their own things.
As it tends to go, I might have had more drinks than I planned and eventually when we reunited with the rest of the group, I somehow got into an argument with my cousin and it escalated to the point of me screaming lively about how she's a stupid bitch. This attracted a lot of attention and eventually my uncle brought up that I've probably had too much. Embarrased, I admitted so.
Near the exit, two policemen approach us and head directly to me. "Looks like you've had a bit too much, no?" "Yeah, I guess that's right." "Actually I think I recognize you from somewhere." Sirens start going off in my head, but running away or resisting wouldn't get me too far and the curiosity in me prevails. "Where exactly would that be?" "There are recordings of you in Brno on..." "Oh, let me guess. Two weeks ago on Thursday night, between midnight and 4AM?" "Exactly." He pulls up his phone and skims through a video taken by a passer-by. I immediately recognize my hat and my vest, walking among moving trams. "So... am I under arrest?" "That depends on your cooperation." "Actually, I would like the complete rundown on what I did that night. As you might be guessing, I don't remember a single thing." He nods. "I think it's best to resolve that in the central." I quickly brief my dad on the fact that I'll be splitting off from their vacation and on where he might find me if I don't call back, and depart with one of the officers.
Catholic sadboi. Eternal student. Coding for a living.(sometimes I even maintain this instance)I make chiptune sometimes. kkons.bandcamp.comOther tracks: soundcloud.com/gensogripsRYM: https://rateyourmusic.com/~gensogripsMAL: https://myanimelist.net/profile/gensogrips:arch::autism::tedk: