My log

It wasn't long ago that I had a dream. The dream was lucid as well, though not in the sense that I could control what was happening. It was more that I was thinking logically. I don't remember how it began, but I clearly remember the moment when I was already standing inside a subway car. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew why I was there. At some point, I pulled out an MP5 and started killing everyone my eyes fell upon. Within fifteen seconds, the entire car was dead. No one inside was left alive. They didn't even have time to realize what was happening before the bullets from my weapon reached their heads. I moved the body lying next to me aside and sat down in its bloodstained place. Then I realized that I needed somewhere to hide. Fear overwhelmed me.
"I'm going to prison. I killed around a dozen people. I'm definitely going to prison. Or maybe I should kill myself. But I don't want to die. When I started, I thought I did, but apparently not anymore. I need somewhere to hide. Someone who won't turn me in. Someone I trust."I decided to go to my old friend, [NOT IMPORTANT]. The train stopped at a station almost immediately, and everyone rushed out. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw people with rifles moving toward me. I headed for the driver's cabin and forced the doors open so I could take control of the train. The driver wasn't there anymore; apparently, he had already fled. I pulled a lever that seemed like the right one, and the train started moving. It sped forward at a terrifying pace, and I had no idea when I was supposed to stop it. When I tried to figure it out, I saw another subway train already standing on the tracks ahead of me. I ran out of the driver's cabin, and a deafening crash destroyed the next car. Both trains came to a halt, and I got out. Outside, I was being pursued by flashing blue and red lights and a helicopter shining a blinding spotlight down on me. I ran to my friend's house. I tried to stay hidden, and for a moment, I thought I had succeeded. I was already standing at his door, knocking. He opened it with a smile.
"Did you see it?"
"Yeah. So why did you come here? They'll come here too!"
"I got away..."
"I doubt it."
After that, he let me inside.
"So what's your plan? You can't hide forever."
"I... I don't know. Maybe they'll forget about me?"
"Forget about YOU? Hahaha. Did you see how many people you killed? Everyone has already seen your face. And I think they've already found you."
"What are you talking about?"
The door was instantly blown open, and the impact of the debris stunned me. Then I woke up.

doesn’t it seem to you that people are getting dumber? It feels like everyone hates each other. They create things that provoke each other’s degeneration. It’s like people are infected with something incurable I’d call it evolutionary degeneration. You can see it everywhere: social media tries to attract new viewers with short clips made for people with the attention span of a goldfish, games no longer challenge you, and information is handed to you on a silver platter — and there’s no guarantee it’s even true. It might sound harsh, but the most fair thing for everyone would be to limit access to the Internet. Back then, getting online required almost cosmic effort, and the Internet wasn’t this cesspool of degenerates. Maybe if we brought that difficulty back, the problem with degenerates would disappear.

A Dream I Had Not long ago I had a dream that stuck with me. It wasn’t scary because of what happened in it, but because inside the dream I could think clearly and rationally. I don’t remember how it started. I only remember already being at my computer, sitting in Discord with friends. At some point I asked one of them, Friend: “How would you want to die? I mean, we’re all going to die anyway. Would you want to kill as many people as possible?” He said yes. He said he would want to create a virus that would wipe out all living things, something that would make people die slowly and painfully. He said that even after his own death, people would keep dying from it. After that the dream became fragmented. I remember putting something together. I took the casing of a walkie-talkie, similar to one I had used at work, pulled all the insides out, and started connecting wires to bags. I don’t remember the details clearly, just the process. The next thing I remember is walking through the city center. I was looking for a suicide bomber. In my hand was the walkie-talkie. I kept nervously pulling the trigger on the handle. That trigger was what activated the explosive device. I was scared. I wasn’t sure I actually wanted to die. I walked up to a shopping mall, still pulling on the trigger. At some point I pressed it by accident. I realized that once it was pressed, the moment I let go, the explosion would start, and I would die. A few seconds later, I released it. Everything went dark. I heard the explosion. I heard buildings collapsing. I heard women screaming around me. And I remember thinking: “So this is what death looks like.” Then I woke up. It was a deeply disturbing dream.