I am getting a new tattoo. I’m seeing Jordan (the guy who did my ‘why not’ tattoo). I think I have asked for something that is definitely not what I am currently getting. Looking down, I see that he’s completed a simple rectangle taking up most of my left calf, at a slight angle. The lines are thin and impossibly straight. Nobody that I show this new tattoo seems to like it. I notice that I have a few small tattoos on my legs and think that the rectangle is fitting. I am going to hike Half Dome. Options for someone going with me are Melissa and Ethan S. from work. They both end up [missing] out on me. I accept that I’ll be going along and then start to worry about the time … started around 5:30am last time. I notice that I’m wearing fairly short shorts and a button up t shirt. I’m now outside and Aunt Anna shows up in their brown truck. She has a dozen or more large bottles of hard alcohol for a get together and asks me if it looks like too much. I visualize the amount in one (whisky) and start to think that yes, it is.
I am with an unfamiliar tattoo artist and about to get a tattoo of a seahorse on my left arm. The guy is middle aged or younger, shorter, and stocky, I think with a short grey beard/stubble. He’s casual and easy-going. This shop seems smaller, and we’re the only ones in it. We talk about the tattoo, and I ask if I can sketch it out. He passes over a piece of paper that already has a few drawings, in squared off areas, on it. I start sketching on the bottom right, recalling the shape and features as I go. I think it’s turning out pretty well. We’re now looking at where it’ll go on my arm, right on my trice, the only remaining space between quite a few color tattoos that are already there.
Mom and Makayla are going to get matching tattoos, and I am going with them. Outside, it is very overcast. There seems to be some dark purple in some of the clouds as well. This place doesn’t look like a tattoo shop; this entrance is on a patio covered by an overhang of a pitched roof. It seems more office or commercial. Inside now, the tattoo they are getting is just a jagged line. I see it on a piece of trace taped to another piece of paper and take out my pocket knife and begin to cut along the line. The trace keeps coming further than the other paper, but I’m really following the line pretty closely. Mom goes first now and grabs my hand as the female artist begins inking. It’s going on her ankle, and me and Makayla say how that is a painful spot (although I think I’m really thinking of the one behind my knee). I’m sitting right by mom, barefoot, with my legs stretched out. It’s like I am feeling the feeling of getting the tattoo too, I guess because I’m so close. I make a face and look at Makayla, a little excited at having this experience after a long time without it. When I look over, Mom is passed out, head back, eyes closed, mouth slightly agape, and I shake her to wake her up. This happens one more time. We ask the artist to call a doctor, but she says she’s not sure if they’re taking anyone due to social distancing. She does fill a glove with water and give it to us. I pour some of it into Mom’s mouth but it just comically and exaggeratedly spurts back up and out. I know that Melissa and her mom are also getting matching tattoos: a lobster with heart shaped scales. I am in what seems to be an empty high school, on the second level. Julia from work is having me do something; it seems urgent, and I am taking it seriously. Then, she tells me it’s just been a prank, which I agree is pretty funny. I think it has something to do with a book. I end up taking the book home and reading it. It is a YA with a dark green cover and is definitely not something I’d read in real life. I think it’s about a baby or pregnancy. I’m reading it to humorously spite the prank, but it is actually kind of good. For some reason I started a little ways into the book, so now I’m going back to start from the beginning. I am outside on the lawn in the front of Mom’s, and it seems like a really nice summer evening.
I have gotten a tattoo on the inside of my left bicep. It’s closest to the very inside of my arm and runs from the elbow to almost my armpit. It is about four square panels, each with the outline of a teenage mutant ninja turtle? They are simple and thin, yet realistic and very well done. The outlining squares’ lines are just a little thicker, giving it a pleasing contrast. While I am sitting with the artist, he begins to ink the first line in the area, and I panic slightly, under the impression that it was going elsewhere. I am then fine, deciding it looks the best where he is placing it. When it is finished, I think Mom is unrolling some saran wrap for me to put over it. I also show it to someone what likes TMNT. I also think about how I have it for life, this thought being pretty neutral.
Morning of October 5, 2018. Friday. Dream #: 18,918-01. Reading time: 2 min 51 sec. Readability score: 54. My conscious self as in waking life experiences its annihilation in the non-lucid dream state, and as my subconscious self, I lose viable memory of who I am and the contact with my unconscious mind that I possess in waking life. All that remains within my temporary dream self’s fictitious mind is the subliminal awareness of being in the dream state, and the essence of non-lucid dream control and its dynamics gathered from a lifetime of knowledge of the dream state. Wanting to liminally return my incomplete dream self essence to at least partial coalescence with my conscious self, I create a school setting to metaphorically learn my way back to my conscious identity to pull myself at least partially out of the illusory dream state into the liminal pre-wakefulness range of a more realistic self-awareness and mode of discernment. The teacher is an unknown female standing near the center of the classroom of which is mostly featureless. I am in the room near the doorway, to its left when facing it. All of the other students (unfamiliar), male and female, several adults and children of different ages, are outside the classroom, in the hall. They are all unsure if they want to enter the classroom but are listening to the teacher. The class is just beginning, so they have time to consider their choices. I am sitting on the wooden floor with my legs out, with the bottoms of my feet facing the doorway. All that I am wearing is a white t-shirt. I do not feel embarrassed. After all, I am in a dream and not wearing clothes as I sleep in a bed, even if that understanding is only subliminal. (Even as a child, I knew my transient fictitious dream self was not my conscious self as in reality. That may be why I have rarely ever had “bad” dreams other than when biologically premonitory.) My illusory erroneous “I am” adjusts to the scenario. I am not lucid or holding any essence of my current conscious self identity, but being near the doorway is a factor of liminal emerging consciousness. The preconscious avatar awakens and comes into existence to my left, still malleable and passive. I allow the five youngest denizens (from a prior unification star ritual in a previous lucid dream) to cheerfully enter the classroom and continue behind me to begin their studies. I do not recall the purpose of the lucid ritual in my non-lucidity. I decide to converse with the preconscious avatar, an unfamiliar male of about thirty in this incarnation, liminally attempting to transform him into a potential dream state reinducer. On the right side of my right foot is a tattoo of a big golden wind-up key. In reality, this side of my body is exposed to my real environment (as I sleep on my left side). Yellow is the color of potentially viable consciousness within the dream state. That is the link to my true self, to my conscious self identity as in waking life, and the potential for my conscious self identity to manifest within my dream self. This wind-up key is autosymbolism (and a liminal reminder that my dream self’s physicality is not real) for beginning the transition of my true conscious self into my fictitious non-lucid dream self so that my conscious will can more viably maintain the simulacrum and perhaps sustain the dream state for a time. The avatar marvels at my tattoo, and that amuses me. My precursory lucidity holds his attention, though he does not attempt to dominate the process. “I got this when I was in New York,” I deliberately lie, though as it is a dream, it could very well become the “real” backstory should my dream last for several more minutes. “The tattoo artist was a man named Gabriel Vartez.” I pull this name out of nowhere. “Vartez” has no familiarity though “Gabrielle” is Zsuzsanna’s middle name (though my dream self still does not viably remember my current conscious self status here). I am describing this fictitious event to him as if it were a significant encounter. “That’s interesting,” he responds with admiration, “Gary Vartez?” This erroneous response annoys me, but I do not say anything or indicate my annoyance. Instead, I choose to wake peacefully.
I have gone to see Tess for a tattoo. I’m going back to her (like she is Lisa) since I got my first from her. Inside, I am sitting at a counter by a window (it resembles a barber shop counter and seats). Dad is here with me. I am getting the tattoo on my right foot - the same Pink Floyd symbol I already have? It doesn’t turn out too well; it is too long and thin, as well as misshapen, on top of my foot. There’s a line running horizontally along my foot also. She is done and is going to charge me, but I think about asking if she can redo it. I don’t though, and pay the $58? With my card. I figure the tip at $6 and add 8 and 6 to get 14 to carry over on the addition. I’m thinking I could still get the tattoo altered/covered up. I’m also thinking about getting the number 1 in the same place Makayla has her tattoo. It has some significance. I also think about getting it on my ankle/outside of my leg to see if it really does hurt. I tell Dad to get a tattoo and he kind of laughs and says no. I am filling up a large bathtub. It seem to be in a room and set into the ground. It’s probably bigger than some pools. It overflows into the room. The water is not all that hot; I can only feel heat from the water currently coming out below the water level. Melissa is here, and I tell her she can get in with me.
Morning of June 2, 2017. Friday. I am on the porch of the Barolin Street house (where my wife Zsuzsanna and I and our children have not lived in real life for years) in Bundaberg. However, in my dream, it is implied to be in Cubitis (where I have not lived since 1978). Even though my dream self is probably implied to be around forty-six years old (I am presently fifty-six), there is also an ambiguous hybrid facet of my fifteen-year-old self. There is a small bookcase on the south side of the porch facing south (though north in the Cubitis orientation), where no bookcase ever was in reality. It is within the open area rather than the back of the bookcase being against a wall. I am vaguely focused on a dream journal as well as a textbook and a couple other books, including a volume from a set of encyclopedias. (These books were in the lower shelf.) Now and then, I shift into my teenage focus. I look out through the porch windows toward where the neighbors have just driven back to their house. They are walking around near their car, which is parked just outside of their small open carport and facing their carport. Thus, as is typical of this recurring dream scenario, I first see only Lisa’s parents and wonder what is going on. After a time, I am more within my older perspective and looking at the books again. Still, Lisa appears, having phased through the side of the porch. I acknowledge her presence as she stands facing me, though she remains behind the back of the bookcase. When I look up at her, she seems to be about twelve years old. Curiously, I notice that she has an animated tattoo on her forehead which has two frames (at the rate of about one per two seconds). The tattoo is somewhat pale and transparent with an embossed essence rather than having much contrast or color, though I can still read the larger of the two frames. It reads as “LOST GIRL” (in uppercase). I do not consider this to be strange at all though I also do not consider any meaning of any kind. The second frame, when it appears in the animation sequence, is not written large enough to read from where I am seated. It appears seemingly as an address (possibly of a dance studio) as on an envelope. To the lower left of the “envelope address” is what looks like a small icon of Earth with a pair of wings. It seems we are both in the process of moving. She stands attentively but we do not speak much. The preconscious in this dream is of a very atypical essence. It almost seems to be awaiting instructions rather than initiating the waking mechanism, though me facing the bookshelf implies my thinking abilities emerging, thus the preconscious may have already “done its job” by remaining behind the bookcase as I face it. There are several meanings (layered meanings in addition to the native real-time meaning), none of which are significant to my present conscious self status. Firstly, it could be a residual thread of how I view people who believe in vicarious “dream interpretation” as “lost” (as I am near a bookcase and with a dream journal), though who am I to judge people who, for whatever reason, believe that things like chiromancy, tasseography, or reading ‘possum bones in a circle cast in the dirt somehow “works” for them. On a personal level, it may simply mean no longer being my teenage self in Florida and the residual effect of traumatic transitions that will always remain a part of my life experience regardless of how happy and loved I have been most of my life, especially over the last twenty-five years. Contrived convenience: Contrived convenience is a common type of erroneous dream rendering where the presumed errors in memory are based on the real-time linear convenience of the particular dream. If not for contrived convenience, many settings, features, and events in dreams could not be perceived by the dream self at all. For example, in this case, seeing the activities of my Cubitis neighbors near their small carport would not have been possible if my dream had correctly rendered the liminal space factor as my Cubitis home’s carport rather than the Barolin Street house’s porch (as the real-life limited view from the Cubitis carport was only to the north, and only partly west and east). Also erroneous is how Lisa somehow came onto the porch through the porch’s side. That is, she somehow phased through the porch wall (and windows), which is where my dream self’s attention was focused, rather than entering normally through the porch door which would have been somewhere off to my right (where I never directly looked). (This term is also used to describe “reality” or linear time as experienced by an individual but I will not get into that here.)Dream sign (dream journal): A dream sign (my systemic definition only) is a carryover of the conscious self’s current status of being unconscious and within the dream state. The most obvious type is being in bed. Others include not wearing shoes or socks, being undressed in public, a bed in an incorrect location, and even thoughts of one’s dream journal. Dream signs, like so many other features and events in dreams, have nothing to do with erroneous beliefs in “interpretation” (in the common misuse as a synonym for meaning) that is still so popular with the public.Flight symbol: Flight symbols occur as waking symbolism in over one in five of my non-lucid dreams (closer to one in four, or at least over twenty percent) in the tens of thousands of my non-lucid dreams that I have documented and closely studied and decoded. This is obviously because of the subliminal yet anticipatory nature of the purely biological hypnopompic jerk or sleep start, that is, the perception of falling as a natural shift in consciousness from sleeping to waking that often occurs even in infants. It is hard for me to accept that there are people who believe that biological dream dynamics have some sort of “interpretation”.Personified Preconscious: The personified preconscious is typically a dominant dream character of a very specific recognizable essence of whom, while usually a different character (either male or female), initiates either the unification, disruption, or cessation (depending on the unique dream self incarnation) of the dream self’s transmutation into whole consciousness within the waking transition. The waking mechanism might be based on anything from activating more threads of the current conscious self identity with augmented emotions (for example, the dream self getting aggravated by feeling imposed upon by a trait unrelated to current conscious self identity) to blissful coalescence (for example, hugging the personified preconscious and feeling bliss or love in coalescence). The preconscious is transpersonal, sometimes the opposite of the conscious self identity, and is often completely unrelated to the current conscious self’s persona or identity (contrary to the ridiculous belief that every dream character comes from current conscious self identity or status, which could not be more wrong).Porch as liminal space: A porch as a dream setting is usually a real time metaphor of my dream self’s transition into wakeful consciousness. It represents the state between being in a house (temporary limited dream self’s perspective) and the outside world (conscious self identity’s perspective). It is a factor of my most common waking symbolism, which I have fully validated thousands of times since early childhood.
*Gonna use a question mark(?) for a things that are hard to remember* I remember being apart of a group(?) and we were in this sort of camping environment, we were close to an interstate because I remember driving there to escape(?) from something. I also remember going to this dark part of the woods, it had this roof type thing made of leaves and trees , and the ground dipped down into this small puddle. The puddle had leaches or something, but their was a way to get around it. In front of this little forest place, their was this door to a home attached right smackdab in the middle of all this heavy foliage. I remember being in the host but their was a group who was already in their(?) and they were bandits, and killed some of our own(?). I also remember, very extremely faintly, being in a lucid where I smoked weed. That was it. I also remember that I was apart of a group (could be attached to the first dream) and we were in a RV now, but me and this one guy was disconnected from the group, but it was okay since we were in this city area now. He went into the tattoo shop I guess for a tattoo(?) and I remember him walking out and the tattoo guy yelling at us for some reason(?). My mom and her friends met up with us and she made me go grocery shopping with her. All I remember.
Bedtime: 11:00 pm WBTB: 3:30 am Technique: mantra (Is this a dream?), counting Notes: This dream occurred between 7 and 7:30 am, after multiple wake-ups throughout the morning I am working at Blumac's (a bar I worked at years ago). I committed to one night just for fun, but I realize the owner put me back on the schedule 4-5 days a week. I am worried I can't handle that kind of schedule anymore since I'm out of shape, and really might be too old for this now. I greet Michelle in the dressing room and realize she is older than me and looks amazing, so maybe I can do this for a little while to earn some extra money. I decide to stay, but I don't want to work Friday or Saturday nights, or double shifts. I ask one of the other girls if she would like my Friday shift and she agrees. I return for my second shift. I overhear the other girls talking about money, and realize that I handled my tips incorrectly the night before. I put my money in my makeup bag instead of giving it to the DJ, so I didn't pay the DJ or bouncer last night. I feel bad. I start digging through my bag to count my money and notice there is a lot more than I thought. Suddenly I realize in horror that I am looking through the wrong bag. I feel horribly embarrassed and worry that someone might think I'm trying to rob her. Thankfully no one sees me, so I sit down to relax again and sort through my clothes. I contemplate getting a trunk for my clothes again instead of dealing with this messy gym bag. I suddenly remember to look at the RC tattoo on my arm. I fully expect to see the word "Dream" written there, but when I look I see only a P and another partial letter. I stare at it, dumbfounded for a minute, then become fully lucid. I stand up, excited, and look around the room to see how stable the dream is. Everything is solid, and I move easily. I realize this is the highest level of lucidity I've had in over a year! I decide to glide instead of walk. I glide easily across the room and out the door. As I enter the next room, I notice things are hazy, like I am not wearing my contacts. I decide to keep moving, hoping things will clear up because I'm concerned about waking myself if I try to adjust the light. I decide to go outside, hoping the light will clear up naturally out there. I see a door to the patio and decide to walk right through the solid wood. It works! The dream is much clearer outside. The sky is blue and the weather is pleasant. I see a large brown dog across the yard. When it sees me it gets up and runs my direction. It appears to be very friendly and curious. I notice there is something odd about it's jaw, so I try to look closer.....then BEEEEEP! Damn alarm work me up!
I'm sitting somewhere together with some other people, though I have no clue who the others are. Our seating arrangement is similar to a bus. Four rows of seats, with an aisle through the middle and everyone facing the same direction. There are 2 people standing in the front, sort of presenting something. One of them is a white guy perhaps a few years older than I am. I can't recall the other person. At some point the guy says that there is a white girl about my age sitting in the back who has a tattoo from someone famous. She asks the girl to show it to us. I can't recall the tattoo that she has, but she has no issue showing it. She walks up to the front and does so. She walks back to her seat again and then starts to undo her pants. I think nothing of it at first, until she decides to fully undress. She's got some more tattoos apparently. Someone (the guy?) reacts a bit shocked. She is very casual about it and says that it's just her body. She walks up to the front again. She's quite slim. One thing that stands out though is that she's got a bump the size of one of her (not so big) boobs, a bit below her right boob. Apparently that's part of her piercing. It's quite weird. While she's standing in front a Middle-Eastern looking guy about our age approaches her. It seems to be her boyfriend. He is a bit shocked to see his girlfriend naked in public. He comes up to her and gives her a kiss on the lips, then moves on a bit again. In the mean time two girls walk by and walk into a building, a cafe or something perhaps. The guy wastes no time in walking after them. I can still see them through the glass of the building. The two girls are seated at opposite sides of a table and the guy presents his phone to one of them, presumably to get her number. His girlfriend is mad and decides to leave.
Me and my boyfriend were staying in a room in someone's house. It had a couch and a litter box. My boyfriend gave me a bag of potatoes to eat. He started kissing me as I was lying on the couch. He had a black tattoo with black block letters on his shoulder that isn't there in real life.
I'm at tha old university, there seem to be a problem with my diploma and the administration is as helping as usual. I get fed up and frustrated and walk out to get a breather. Here I met with a young man*, talking with me about my training period under his wing and being pretty clueless and hurtful. I get even more upset and get away from him, goign to the hospital collaborating with the university. I get down to the basement, which has turned into a sort of warehouse full of glimmering machinery. Operating one of those is the man I worked with, tinkering with it while someone watch. I notice a woman and a toddler off to the side, and while I can't see their face I know that they are his wife and son. I'm happy to see them well and happy; the boy is playing and squealing when his mother give him ice chips to eat. She propose me one and her husband mock-scold her about it; I say that I'll never pass the occasion to eat a book, and she hands me some "dictionnary ice". It doesn't have any particular taste, but I thank her. The man and me talk a little, sharing news. He seem pretty upset that I left the university and the project we worked on, and I try to tell him how hard it was for me, but I make myself upset and can't say the words. He seem to understand and stops me. Before I leave he looks like he's going to hug me, but both of us are too shy and akward for it. *my superior was a young woman, but she had a lot of students to work with so I was left to my own devices a lot. I woke up pretty early and decided to go for a WBTB. I'm slightly lucid, enough that I want to track down the forceful man. The sky is overcast again, the colors both muted and intense. I find myself in a busy crowd, walking on a path in a park. It got a nice landscaping, with stones paths like the one I'm walking on, with nice half buried archways providing shadows in the summer, ponds and old trees, but the paths are riddled with potholes, and this one is caked with feces and sick. It's disgusting and people around me are obvious to it, except a woman who is desesperatly trying not to step in it. I follow her steps and we end up in a store, as crowded as the park, but at least it's clean. I caught a glimpse of a blond-haired man dark clothing, his hair silvery in the artificial light, but he disappear before I can reach him. I fall back to the woman I was with, she's arguing with a vendor about something. Finally she get her bag and smile to me, so we get out together. I ask her about the man I'm looking for, and she seem pretty disaprouving. She tells me he live on the upper hills, in a castle or a manor. I ask her to guide me, and that's the last lucid thing I do, but she say I can't go now. She takes me back to the park, in a nook that's cleaner that the rest, with a old bathtub with clawed feets. The bathtub is full of soapy water, and I strip off to get in and wash off the filth from earlier. The air os cold but the water warm, so I only let my head out of it. The woman unbraids my hair and wash it, before pulling out of her bag a big comb made of black, shining wood with a ivory and onyx handle, curved like a vine and orned with a flower. She starts to comb my hair, taking strands of it out the tub to do so then putting it back in. It float around me, filling half of the tub and covering me like algae. She then tells me I need some markings to do what I have in mind. She asks me to sit up and I do, shivering in the cold air. She put something cold and hard against my back, between the shoulderblades, telling me it's for speed and flight, and then show me the metallic plate she used: on it is a creature that at first glance looks like a eastern dragon, a snake body with a horned horse head and insect-like wings. It's six limbs are strangely human, and it's warped on itself in a mess of wings and coils. I barely have to see it before she puts my legs out of the water, my head going under and my exposed skin erupting in goose-bumps. I push my head out, spultering, as she pushes two similar plates against my inner thighs, close to my panties. She tells me I'm wearing Lilith's hands* now, and when she takes out the plates I can see that I've got two very intricate design of hands tatooed on my skin in back ink, left hand on right thigh, right hand on left thigh. It's slightly innerving; it looks like the right hand has a eye embedded in it, and as if someone is pushing my legs appart. *Lilith is supposed to be the mother of monsters, and I birthed a snake in a previous dream. I don't know if it's linked, but it's there.
Updated 12-18-2015 at 06:07 PM by 88858
I almost stole a Little Nemo stuffed animal from Family Fair then later in the dream i went into a tattoo shop and was in trouble for stealing a pipe. I didn't steal the Nemo though, i just ripped the tag off. There was also some sort of electronic display where i could delete the item, and i ended up doing that because i felt bad for almost stealing it. The office of the guy who got me in trouble in the tattoo shop was small and had a lot of chairs, the one i sat in was navy blue and had a lot of tears, the whole room was really messy. On one side of the tattoo shop was a LOT of bongs and pipes, in all different colors and shapes. A lot of orange and blue colored ones, lined along these long shelves on a wall of the shop.
Dream I'm at a UFC event, watching Uriah Faber fighting an unknown person. Both fighters are grappling and Uriah gets the better of the exchange and wins the fight. There's a bit of a story behind the two. They're both in the marine corp and they both wanted to see who was the tougher marine. I think they had fought before and had a bit of mutual respect for one another, but still didn't like one another. Uriah is getting interviewed in the cage after the fight. He tells the reporter that his opponent has grown on him. I think he even started liking the guy. They now interview the opponent and he doesn't hold back with his words. He tries to bring down Uriah by mentioning that he used to fight in fixed fights. Uriah responds and tells him that it was a common thing back in the day. The crowd find it disrespectful of the opponent to say such a thing after a fight, and majority of the people (myself included) on the floor area closest to the cage, leave the arena to show support to Uriah. I don't leave the arena but take a seat near the back. I see my brother and he's talking to a female that's got a sleeve tattoo on her arm. I think he knows this girl. She has a unique style of tattoos on her. Brother gets a marker and begins placing dots on her arms. I start to intentionally annoy the man behind me. He talks back to me in another language and I ask him what that even means. His buddy sticks up for him starts having a to at me, talking in another language also. I could figure out a few words, which were stop it. I listen to him and agree to stop what I was doing. I look to my left and notice that there's a cafeteria with fruits and vegetables. I make my way back towards the front of the arena where the seats are still empty. I take advantage of this and choose any seat I like. I try a seat but find it's a little too close to the action. I notice my brother and Daryl are with me and they are pretty happy with the seats. I ask some people around me if these seats are reserved and they say yes. A female likes me, and says she will call me. At first I was f sure if she was meaning that I was going to call her or she call me. Dream fragment Josh says he's taking a girl out on a date.
Dream - Lucid There was a girl with glasses that a very deformed neck. It looked like a huge mass of melted skin was on the back of it. She had to have it on this thing with wheels, kind of like a walker, to get around it was so big. She had a tattoo on it. She was showing it to us. I was in high school marching band again. I remember saying something to someone about it, telling them I couldn't wait until I didn't have to be in it anymore. We were on the asphalt practicing. The sun was setting. ~ I was living in a neighborhood instead of an apartment complex. Two people I know IWL, Meg and Alicia, were moving into these tiny, studio apartment-type houses. Alicia's husband was also moving in with her. The houses were right next door to one another. I saw them moving in, and the apartment was so small, when you opened the front door, you could see the bed right there. Alicia's sister and her husband, Andrew, were somehow involved in this as well. I knew they both smoked weed, and I knew that now that they lived there, the second we hung out again, I'd be smoking again too. I wasn't worried about it though. I thought that I could control my habits now. In the back of my head, I knew that I wouldn't be able to in reality, but I didn't care. I just didn't want Dallas to find out. I was really excited about smoking and having such easy access to it. I was then hanging about with Alicia. Her husband wasn't there. I don't remember where we were, but we were just chatting, when she asked if I wanted to smoke. Hell yeah! I really wanted to. She went and grabbed a bong from somewhere inside I think. She then was asking me about having sex while high. High sex is good, but I'd never done it with a girl. I thought about doing it with Dallas, but didn't know if I would be able to get away with it without him knowing I was high. I think we smoked, but the only thing I remember about that is thinking that my eyes were red. I was hoping we wouldn't get caught smoking since the house was so small. I didn't want to get arrested or in trouble in any way. Then, I was talking to someone else about weed. She pulled some weed out that was a light green with white on it. She said it was hydroponic. I smelled it. It smelled good, but not like super good weed. She then was talking about putting it on chapstick and rubbing it in your eye to get high. I then thought that if I did that, my eyes would be really red. ~ I was outside of some store at nighttime. I was writing to my first crush/first kiss, Nick. It was nighttime outside. I typed him a letter, and put three fingerprints on it. It told him to email me at a new email address, and also told him to listen to a particular song. I think my mom helped me type it. I read it over to make sure there were no mistakes. Instead of "Dear Nick," it said "Dear D____", with the spaces being something I can't remember, but it looked like the new email address that I gave to him. The fingerprints were below that, shaped like a pyramid, with two on the bottom and one on top. After it was sent, I wondered whether or not he would even acknowledge my new email, or if he would just write back saying he had already heard the song. The point wasn't whether or not he'd heard the song, it was the lyrics that I wanted him to listen to. I was then sitting outside of a public bathroom. It felt like I was at Disney. It was still nighttime. There was a little blonde girl of about 5 and her mom also sitting outside the bathroom on a bench attached to the wall. The blonde girl then started to talk to me. She said "In my country (she said the name of the country but I can't remember), we can play in the bathroom." She then was asking me if there were things in the bathroom she could play with while she went. At her feet, there were many children's books. I told her she could take a book in the bathroom to read, and she got excited. She went in and forgot the book. I went over to the stall, which was unusually short, and handed it to her over top of the door.
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