What then is the source of this remarkable dream? Its source is the Internet. Its author is probably Artificial Intelligence (A.I.) (though the Internet would not admit that this is the case). Remarkably, each time I go back to this site, the dream would change—thus making me conclude that this dream was manufactured. Perhaps, as I noted with regard to the role of technology in transactional dreams, I have “danced” with a dreamer and was enthralled (“awe”) with a digitally produced dream. One might even ask: Does A.I. dream? Perhaps it does.
Let me offer my own lengthy dream of a journey that I know to be real and not A.I. generated! This is a recurring dream with minor variations in its enactment each time.
“Typically, I am sitting on a bench located in a small park on the West Side of San Francisco, where I used to live and work. I get up from the bench, knowing that I need to return to my home, which is located on the Northeast side of this city. I start to walk eastward and soon find that I am on a street in a very threatening part of town. It doesn’t actually seem to be San Francisco anymore. It looks most like a rundown street in a 1930s city like Chicago. There is a small group of very menacing “hoodlums” coming toward me from a dark alleyway. I run away from them, but soon find that my escape route is blocked. I must climb up a ladder to the top of a building. I am staring down at the street from a great height. I scramble over to the other side of the rooftop and realize that I will have to leap down to a lower level of the building. I am afraid of heights [in real life] and am terrified of the leap I must take. I do leap and successfully land on the lower-level roof. I then must lift myself over the edge of this lower rooftop and swing down to the ground.
Suddenly, I am no longer in a city; instead, I find that there is a large field in front of me, as if I were at the edge of the city and were looking at the countryside that edges up to the city. I start walking on the hill and suddenly find that I have come to the edge of a cliff. I am startled by the great depth of the sloop down from the cliff (another height for me to fear). I actually slide down the slope and find that I am once again on a street in San Francisco. I know where I am. It is a street corner about three blocks south of Market Street in San Francisco. I am very tired, having walked and run a long distance, but I know that I have to make it up to Market Street and turn right for a short journey down this street to the Embarcadero Hotel at the east end of Market Street. I pass by “sleezy” movie theaters, souvenir shops, and a couple of bars. I sometimes go into one of the bars, think about having a drink, and find it to be disgusting and sometimes hostile (the same group of hoodlums who menaced me at the start of the dream).
I eventually arrive at the Embarcadero Hyatt Hotel and go up the elevator to the beautiful Embarcadero Hotel Lobby (which I appreciate when I am awake). There is a large global structure in the lobby that I particularly admire. I sit on a bench in the lobby for a short while to take in the sights of people coming and going at the hotel. I then walk outside the hotel and move to a bench located between the hotel and the waterfront [this is an area that was renovated after the San Francisco earthquake of 1989 and the removal of the freeway section leading into the San Francisco downtown]. Suddenly, I was no longer looking at the hotel and the surrounding area; rather, I was sitting on a bench, looking at the façade of a large cathedral-like structure which had many nooks and crannies. This structure seemed to be very baroque and had obviously been built by a very skillful craftsman. At some level, I knew I was dreaming, and I began to appreciate my own craftsmanship in offering this remarkably intricate architectural display. I would then, typically, wake up.”
