Last night I had a dream about steem. For real. Yeah, I know what you're thinking... get a life. And you'd be right 😂
Before I start waxing philosophical and pulling on my beard in excitement like Carl Jung when his patient has a dream about eating their own head, lets take a delve into the twisted mind of a twitching fomo-ridden steemian.
Dream first, analysis second.
Rain sluices the dirt road. I look up and down this calico highway, sweat dripping off me as my mind reels with the reality that I seem to be somewhere in India. It's rainy season, and the verdant green of distant jungle contrasts with the grey sky and faded yellow of the Sorghastrum grass. The sun heats the clouds to a humid blanket, coddling the land. I hear a rumble in the distance.
I look back at a complex of low huts emblazoned with steem logos, the rain cuts out, like someone flicked a switch. Above, a billboard swims in my vision.
A battered white van rumbles down the road toward me. The exhaust pipe is held on with a rope. Rust streaks the side of the van and I hesitantly stick my thumb out to hitch a lift. Heavy clouds darken rapidly, like a time-lapse video.
As the van approaches I feel an unease, like I'm Ben Mitchell in the film Wolf Creek. Will I wake up nailed to a cross in an abandoned mine shaft? The van grinds slowly to a halt, the exhaust pipe falls to the ground with a crash, a friendly face emerges from the van window and looks back at the exhaust.
"Hop in, we're going as far as Bangkok."jumps out of the van, pulls the rusty side door open before proceeding to gaffer-tape the exhaust pipe back to the van's chassis. Inside the van is like something out of a steemian hippy's wet dream. Glitter balls hang from the ceiling and the inside of the van is cushioned all over the walls. Funkytown by Lipps Inc is blasting on the speakers and the van is full of steemians I met in Krakow.
Crank that song up loud as you read the rest of this crazy steem dream
The inside of the van expands like a tardis, my guts wrench as I fall down the steem rabbit hole.
,
,
and
are all busting some funky disco moves. My heart skips a beat.
The air thrums with bass and a purple haze as light refracts through the smoke from the cigarsmokes (I don't even know if aggroed smokes) as he lounges on a cushion talking to
, and
.
dances across the ever-expanding floor passing out glasses of wine and bottles of beer. As the music slips into Saturday Night by Oliver Cheatham I see
pouring shots for
and a mysterious figure wearing a mask.
bumps the shot glass against his mask, drops of tequila tumble.
Crystal moments lost in chaos.
Other steemians stand at the edge of my vision, watching the scene.
and
film the whole thing, gimbals wave in time to the music.
talks to
, and
. Slowly they all start to dance.
,
and
chat and smoke something fragrant as they dance. Flashing slants of light illuminate faces, smiles widen, lips chatter and the music flows; it looks like something out of a scene from Saturday night fever.
Everything blurs as the music fazes between Do the Do and James Brown's Get on Up. Someone taps me on the shoulder. The music stops. Lights fade. The buzz of conversation sputters out. Everything is silent.
"Can I give you some investment advice friend?"wears a business suit, collar tucked high and a briefcase by his side.
I nod.
"Buy steem now, it will never be cheaper." His briefcase tumbles open and dried fruit pours forth like the mythical cornucopia. Celestal laughs mechanically as the van fills up with dried fruit, a piece of apricot gets stuck in my ear. I dig furiously to extract this errant apricot as dried banana fills my nostrils.
Another voice pulls me out of this nightmare dried fruit drowning. Clear daylight diffuses through the back of the van. Empty, except for a few cushions placed against the wheel arch.
"Relax man."grins from the passenger seat next to
"Better get comfy, it's a long journey."
It's at this point that my dream faded and I woke up. I've been drinking coffee and writing ever since.
"WTF!" I hear you shout. "This isn't about steem, or steemfest! I've been had." Before you furiously downvote me for my indiscriminate tagging, hear me out. I'd like to suggest that this post is completely about steem.
The description of my dream was a blow for blow account of my nighttime meanderings of the imagination. I'm not sure why it was so psychedelic, or the drowning in dried fruit part, perhaps that's the lingering effect of my misspent youth. Many of the major elements in this dream were composed from comment conversations I had on steem yesterday, along with a healthy dose of Steemfest FOMO and memories from last years steemfest in Krakow. All of the people in this dream were people who I either bumped into at steemfest 3, or at the least saw and recognized around the place.
I think it shows the powerful potential of steem when community interactions can infiltrate the subconscious to this level. For me, this dream represents my returned enthusiasm for writing on steem. This is born out of the overall positivity and changes in behavior that #newsteem is breeding. It's not hard to analyse this dream to be honest, so lets give it a go.
Honestly, I think the overall meaning of this dream is that I need to reduce my coffee intake. But there are some obvious sources for how my subconscious populated my dream.
Lets start with 
The overall driving force behind this vivid theater of my overloaded theta-waving brain, was reading
Why is
Yesterday I read a post from Miikka, where he discusses putting his money where his mouth is in buying steem at this low price. I had literally been talking investment with him and
Why did my dream manifest as a cliche 1970's film scenario? I'm not sure about that one either, perhaps I have a deep unfulfilled desire to be John Travolta.
Maybe that is OK.
Maybe steemfest should have a 1970's theme this year? What do you think Roelandp?
All I know is I believe in the funk... the whole funk and nothing but the funk!
If you have enjoyed this creative post, I hope you will check out my upcoming work on my homepage
. Thanks for reading.
