Dream worlds

My dreams seem to have a very well-defined sense of place. These aren't places that necessarily correspond to anywhere in reality (unless they are; the end of the alien orange train in the subway dream was in the barren wastelands near Santa Teresa and Snell in south San Jose, never mind that reality thinks that's a fairly developed area), but my brain is starting to wonder now whether the hotel room I was in that got broken into last night was the same hotel I was at a few weeks ago, where there's a second set of elevators that start in this weird service area on the second floor, but you can get out to the lobby and out to the street on the next block. At least I know that the reason last night's dream was so fragmented -- after I left the hotel room to the bus, and all of the bullets came down through the roof of the bus, and I went back to the hotel room to find all of my stuff scattered all over, and then...something -- is because after I got back, I was kidnapped and brainwashed, and I only remember the bits after that when I wasn't being mind-controlled.