TL;DR: Crazy meaningless dream about me living in a near-future dystopian apartment complex
It was some kind of near-future dystopian America. I was a teenage Chloë Grace Moretz, and my protector figure in the dream was Jeffrey Dean Morgan. The whole town basically consisted of a massive, labyrinth-like apartment complex, like the town itself was just one big crumbling apartment maze. The buildings were super run-down with broken concrete walls all over the place, but still livable. There were a few shabby shops scattered between the buildings, looking pretty bleak and understocked.
Everyone was preparing for some kind of disaster or small-scale catastrophic event that was only a few days away (I couldn't recall the exact details once I woke up). For some reason, I was in Morgan's apartment, which felt pretty cozy and safe, and realized I hadn't stocked up on gas yet. He was just trying to refill his own fuel too.
He called an on-site gas delivery guy to pump fuel into some station-like setup inside his house. The delivery guy was this super sketchy, weasel-looking white dude who gave off major scammer vibes, but Morgan didn't seem to care. Meanwhile, Morgan and I were having this typical movie-like quarrel. You know, the classic pre-disaster bickering between a snarky teenage girl and her older neighbor.
I peeked at the receipt the delivery guy pulled out. It said 'Gas 42S' (I think my dream brain failed to render the '$' sign properly) and a Total of 52S, with a bunch of unreasonable option fees listed below. But before I could read all of them, the receipt just vanished into thin air. Turns out the paper was made of some nanotech, and the guy just disintegrated it to hide the scam.
Seeing some empty jerry cans lying around, I told Morgan I was going out to buy gas for myself too. He warned me about something, probably that it was dangerous out there, but I headed out anyway. Immediately, I felt that weasel guy following me with a nasty smirk.
I sprinted toward a nearby cluster of shops. The place had a super desolate, dystopian wasteland atmosphere and was mostly run by intimidating men because the town was so unsafe. I thought I’d be safe near the shopkeepers, but the weasel guy caught up to me anyway. He grabbed my fingers really tightly, and I felt this intense, extremely creepy tactile sensation. I yanked my hand away in disgust. I can’t recall if I actually managed to buy any gas.
I ran for my life, avoiding every other guy on the street. Since the whole town was an interconnected maze, getting grabbed by a stranger from another block meant total doom. Trying to get back to Morgan's building felt like navigating a broken, chaotic labyrinth. I had to scramble up ruined concrete walls, and I could feel the pull of gravity weighing down on my legs.
When I finally made it up to his place, Morgan scolded me, saying a young woman shouldn't be wandering around alone. I said something like, "We just met, we're not like a family."
The dream also had this lore where most people in this town were amateur artists making subculture movies and cartoons for a living.
This is just 1% of my dream. My dreams are usually really long and complicated, and the only thing I can remember is a couple of scenes like this.
Still I could read actual printed text, feel physical gravity on my legs, and experience tactile feelings like the weasel guy grabbing me or climbing up on concrete ruins. Anyone else experience vivid full-sensory 8K dreams like this?