Baby – Dreamyoga

Here is this morning’s dream. It is has no commonality with what is going on for life on the compound nor my current thought streams.

The dream starts pulling up by car at an out of town high technology science park, there is a large brick built sign holder made of light sandy coloured bricks. On it there is a darkened bronze name plate announcing the name of the science park in a raised lettering which I cannot read. The country is unspecified and generic. There is sun shining on the grass next to the “welcome” sign. There are loads of high technology companies and start-ups.

The scene changes and I am in a very white ultra-high technology laboratory with instrumentation on benches. It is a biotechnology start-up. I am with two young Ph.D. / Postdoc aged women. One is brown Asian in colouration and she has a brightly coloured Muslim headscarf on. Which contrasts her bright low fibre loss white lab coat. She is with a European woman of slight stature who has a clipboard. The Muslim is the boss. They are showing me around their facility.

My eye catches a ring dye laser encapsulated in a Perspex box. The dye being used is one of the orange Rhodamine dyes. There are multiple fine jets intercepted by pump laser beams. I know that this is an ultra-narrow-linewidth laser. It is part of a very sophisticated laser desorption laser ionisation time of flight (TOF) mass spectrometer. It has a mass resolution of better than 1 part in 10,000. I know that this is brought about by intracavity absorption of the ring dye laser ionisation beam.

The women are unsure as to how to explain things to me. I explain that I used to do mass resolved resonant multiphoton ionisation of mixed isotope deuterium hydrogen water clusters. I am familiar with isotopic ratios and high mass resolution. Relieved they explain that this is very important to them. They need the resolution to probe the nature of human tissue lab grown in other parts of the facility. They are using isotopic labelling to monitor the tissue growth parameters. The intracavity absorption has enabled an ultra-light gentle ionisation regime, no sledgehammer.

In walks two men in around their forties. One of them is a suit the other a scientist. Before we go to the next stage we must all don ultra-low fibre loss lab boiler suits with pale blue elasticated cuffs at wrists and ankles. It is fibre loss from the clothes which is bad. Skin and hair do not matter.

Suitably attired the scientist man flicks a switch and I can hear air filling. He raises a clear plastic dome to reveal a humanoid baby about the size of a two-year old. It is a male and completely naked. It has a large umbilicus containing many wires and tubes. The man holds the baby in blue lab gloved hands and turns it towards me. I understand it to be an artificial baby, an android. It is clothed in very human like flesh which has been grown in the facility. They currently have a license to do this. The flesh is very life like and convincing. The baby is moving slightly and I can see an artificial heart pumping inside. There are veins and arteries.

The suit distracts my attention and talks about their programme. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the smaller woman take an arterial blood sample. They put the baby back into its dome and seal it. I can hear gases being evacuated from the dome. We all disrobe out of the lab coats which we hang on hooks by the door.

The suit gestures to the women to take me to one side. A short while later the scientist returns and says to the suit that the dissolved carbon dioxide in the blood was too high. I can hear him say 3. It is not clear what units he is using. I go over to the suit-CEO and the scientist and ask them what this 3 means. They say that it is nothing to worry about though a little high. They are bullshitting. I know that I am a part of a venture capital (VC) inspection team sent into the facility. There have been concerns from the investors and the next funding round is due. I can tell that the men are worried. I press them about the programme and they say that some of the earlier prototypes showed similar and higher carbon dioxide levels. This needs to be reduced before the humanoid can be autonomous. They don’t know that I have a large personal investment in the VC fund and that I am highly sceptical.

The dream ends and I think “that was fucking weird”.

Here is last night’s sequence following on from days of poor internet connectivity and the end of the Human immobilier house sale mandate.

A little after midnight I am awoken to a swirling orange-yellow-red visual vortex of tremendous brightness and clarity. Something is stirring the web of life and significantly so. I relax into they visual field certain that it is benign for me and in no way threatening.

I drift off to sleep and see a vison of Rákóczi, Count Saint Germain floating in space. He presents as two alternating figures. One of darker hair than the other. He is familiar and the visual representation is much as it has always been. It is clear that he is up to something and that this pertains somehow to me. We share a mind space for a length of time and it is evident that he will be “around” for a while over the near few days.

I wake up.

I doze off.

I am talking with a young dark haired woman who has somehow just been created by Saint Germain. She is heavily built and wearing blue jeans she speaks English with a feint European accent. She wants to talk about science. She is going to be attending the centre for biological education in London, at Imperial College. I tell her that I am familiar with it.

The scene changes and I can see I. He is concerned about the goings on and on the steps outside the old Chemistry department going in.

I am now “there” with the dark haired woman and L. I explain to the dark haired woman that my erstwhile business partner and the best man at my first wedding was the son of a Nobel Laureate. L had no idea about the latter and looks surprised. I am given a broken semiconductor circuit board in which there are four different components shaped like diamonds placed face to face. They are falling out of the board and they ask me to look at it.

The scene changes and I can see reports of a research grant and associated accounts. They are full of discrepancies and subject to a formal investigation. It is D who is under investigation for fraud. I see an image of him concerned about the investigation.

The scene shifts back and the circuit board is literally falling apart. I start to look at the components under a microscope and can see that it has been poorly manufactured. Rushed. I then see floating in space a fake cut diamond made of glass that has several bubble like imperfections. It is flawed, imperfect and not for real.

I wake.

I drift off.

I can see on a large white sheeted bed a young baby in a white nappy. It is without hair and blue eyed. It is lying on its back and whimpering slightly. I am wearing white loose fitting trousers, no shirt, or socks. I lay on the bed and cradle the baby in the crook of my right arm. It presses itself against my chest and I kiss it gently on the forehead.

I wake.

The wife goes to the loo; she snuggles sup saying that I am hot. I kiss her gently on the forehead.

She rolls over and I drift off.

There is a very persistent vison of Emmanuel Macron which lasts quite a while. I understand that Macron is somehow linked to the baby.

I wake.

I build a new electric blue protection dome because it won’t be penetrated by visitors for a while.

I drift off.

I am now with a skinny young woman. We are in a room which is a complete and utter mess. She is talking very fast at me. I grab her by her hips and throw her onto a sofa. I have had enough and she shuts up.

I am outside with a couple of men we are trying to shift a blue portable toilet from the second floor of a barn. I push it a little and it falls backward off the risen floor and smashes on the ground. Job done. We can clear it up with a tractor later.

I am back in the room and the woman is acting all “poor me”. It is a complete shit tip. There is mess and leaves everywhere. The carpet is threadbare.

“You wouldn’t hurt me, would you? Besides I am pregnant.” She says.

“K, even if you are pregnant which I deem unlikely. It is not my child and, in all likelihood, you are being, manipulative. This is your mess, you made it. Not me.!”

In the dream the woman is of a similar stature to K but it does not resemble her. The feel is similar.

Dreaming sequence ends…

Tag: Baby

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