The Dream Journal

I'm back at my old workplace at the gas station talking to a friend there before I start the night shift. There is a rock climbing wall where the soda machine was, I mention if he's into that stuff still as I climb up the wall a little. He says he mostly into parkour. I'm about to mention a friend of mine who's also into wallclimbing but ramble on about a how I know him and never get to the end of my story. Customers rush in and I have to start serving them.

They are all middle-aged and obnoxiously drunk. The familiar stress of so many people vying for my attention. I do my best to serve them and my co-worker friend disappears. There are too many of them and they get behind the counter, drunk and not carrying. This aggravates me until I reach my breaking point and yell out for everyone to get out. They all laugh and ignore me. This makes me very angry and I stare at them with contempt and rage and they eventually leave. One middle-aged woman turns and comes back just to spite me, smiling a drunk smile. I yell at her but she does not react. I charge at her and she still refuses to move. I stop right in front of her. With contempt, I tell her I pity her and turn around. As I do she fakes that I hit her and she falls on the ground under a table. I turn around, knowing what she's up to, and not wanting any misunderstandings with anyone else. I jab her with my finger in the side and she jolts up. I sigh and go away.

Back at the counter I see two of my friends, what a relief. They are dressed as rockabillies, slicked hair and leather jackets. I greet them and tell them it's the same stuff as usual. They are with to Swedish speaking girls. I try to speak Swedish but it sounds absolutely ridiculous. We all laugh as I try to pronounce the price of their purchases. One of my friends tries to get me through a hoop of rope. As my feet go through it knocks a blueberry plate unto the ground from a table, my sister is sad at it breaking. Can it be replaced?

I wake up, write the dream down and try to float into sleep gently. See hypnogogic images of melting cubic people and people with only single numbers carved into their heads as faces.

Walking down a crowded alley of a tightly built European city. The buildings rise up on either side, shading the streets below. I'm with two French or Dutch couples. They talk about a magic powder they have smuggled. I get water as they all order pizza, one of the woman looks at me with disdain.

I'm in front of Big Ben in London, a cloudy day. I see graffiti all over a double-decked bus except it's an ad for fast food. Is it the magic powder showing me the real state of the world? That ads are graffiti by companies?!

I see a booth in the road, a warlock works in it, an old British man, who punishes people who break rules. If someone comes late to work, he punishes them by locking them up in his shack. "If you're late, you do time."

There is a Vice City-style shootout. People in the house are all dead. I'm confused... Have I done this? Oh God, what am I going to do? I see three people I know gunned down on the floor in different rooms of the cluttered house in the city, two cats also lie motionlessly on the ground. I worry, thinking of what I've done and what is going to happen to me. I walk down and see the cats, they still seem to be faintly breathing. I try to pick one up, it's in pain, I don't know how to hold it. I have to get it help. Doing that will show everyone what I've done. What have I done? What can I do?

I look around to see if someone else is breathing or moving, no one is. I try to get used to the fact that everything is going to end. Two other friends enter the house, sitting down by a few steps, haven't they noticed what has happened? When will they and what will they do?