I was laying on my back on a bed, and closed my eyes but could still see the stucco-type ceiling with a 3-D texture of white paint. Checking to see whether it was real or not, I felt my eyelids to see if they were possibly cracked open--but they weren't. Information started scrolling by on the ceiling, star-wars-intro style.
Each paragraph was preceded by an icon of a traffic cone, and the words were flying by fast. I tried to pay attention to the content, which was academic and textual in nature. This switched to shorter messages, and I started being able to read them better.
traffic cone: "god is dead"
traffic cone: "god is dead"
traffic cone: "god is dead"
traffic cone: "god is god"
traffic cone: "deep"
traffic cone: "epic work"
Note
Perhaps wishful thinking, but I understood the "epic work" was an analysis of me and my projects.
me: "Thanks?"
traffic cone: "thanks"
me: "So, it's fun and all, but I'm lonely here. So if you could send someone to keep me company I'd really appreciate it."
A giant screen appeared, levitating in the room. It had lots of numbers and information, and one number was running shorter and shorter down to zero.
Note 
It resembled an electronic clapboard that would be used for tracking timecode in a movie:
...though the numbers were measuring distance in meters, not time.
When the counter hit zero, there was a knock at the door, and I got up off the bed and went to answer it. I was a bit disappointed to see it was my mom.
mom: "I'd called and you hadn't answered the phone, why not?"
The next thing I knew I was watching some people who had put a polar bear and a tiger together to see which would win in a fight. It struck me as rather cruel.