LunaMargherita

Blog

Start the week with an AiDream in your inbox, join a dreamy crowd ๐Ÿ‘‰๐ŸผSUBSCRIBE HERE ๐Ÿ‘ˆ๐Ÿผ

 
Posts tagged social media
AI Dream #34 - One friend dies, one is from outer space.

Marco Principi dies of something stomach related.
I had a previous appointment with his partner and I am looking forward to it, because I feel the pain she must be in.
Suddenly I realise that their flat was in front of our flat and we could have waved at each other from the window all along.
What happened to us, people, that we are so close and we donโ€™t spend time with each other?
As soon as I think this thought, her flat changes and it becomes an intricate structure merged with all the other flats and for me is virtually impossible to see her now.

I find out I had been signed up to a workshops about โ€œsidesโ€. My friend Franz, who looks like coming from outer space and has millions of grey hair, tells me that one of the teachers is not that good.
We discover a new feature that allows citizens to see the Facebook updates of people they know, projected outside their homes.
Immediately I lose my attention and I start reading Facebook updates, one in particular is about the hairstyle of male runners, which has shifted from blonde to bold.

Itโ€™s raining. My attention is back, I pity myself for wasting time reading updates. I am about to meet Maria, Marcoโ€™s partner.
The rain reminds me of the last photo of him that I saw, taken during a rainy day: he was wearing a bright towel on his head, sitting in a yoga pose on a table, laughing.
Choose the positive side of things, that was the point he was making.
Remembering it, makes me cry.

aidream34

One friend dies, one is from outer space.

AI dream #31 - A dystopian society where social media is peopleโ€™s memories, ID and money.

It was some kind of anniversary for my parents. My brother in law suggests me to go get them some flowers. I go. I am in an elevator at the 50th floor. The floor numbers start changing crazily. I am aware of my surroundings, my senses are finely tuned on the world around me. Something is about to happen. The police escorts me out of the elevator and deletes all my social media accounts, which in that world also counted as proof of identity and money. Itโ€™s just a matter of minutes before I start forgetting who I am. Desperately I repeat all that is left in my memory, trying to make the memories stick.

I am now an outcast and while my case is discussed by the authorities, I have to do odd jobs to survive. One job is to help someone at the airport dispose of some luggages. I wasnโ€™t supposed to ask any questions. I am told one luggage has a dead tiger inside and near another one I see a white rabbit. I go with my dodgy supervisor to a clinic, unaware of the reason behind our small trip. A doctor recognises my supervisor and to buy him some time to come up with a fake name and a story, I ask the doctor what is that thing in front of me that looks a lot like little rabbits coming out of mushrooms.