rshort1202

(fragment) I am outside and walking along a thin dirt trail. It descends a short but steep incline, crosses what looks like a thin dry creek, and then ascends another hill. There is a lady coming down the incline opposite me. She stops and makes sure no one is coming before she crosses the dry creek. I see her do this and give her a thumbs up to let her know she’s clear. She then passes me and makes a rude, unjust comment about me doing that for her. Angry, I aggressively cuss her out. I don’t get why she would get angry over my doing that.



(fragment) I am in a store and debating buying a book. It is a slender book of current need-to-know beers written by a woman. It seems too short, but I think it could be a good addition to my collection, especially since the small, yellowish sticker on it informs me that it’s only $1. I think I start off but then go back for it

I am at the Alibi brewery with Melissa. It looks mostly different though - the bar area is smaller and seems shorter, with seating at the counter. It faces the chalkboard tap list and wraps around the end at a 90 degree angle, which is where we sit. It is not very crowded, but there is a fair amount of people, probably right before it gets busy. It is dim and laid back. Right away, a blond girl in her early 20s comes over to get our drink orders. Naturally, Melissa wants a water. She then looks to me, but I haven’t had enough time to choose a beer. I know there is one that I want, but I can’t think of the name. I say “uh…” while looking at the list, hoping she’ll help me out a little. Instead, she just says something like “wow, you do hate me/why do you hate me?” It could’ve been a playful joke, but with the way she said it, it came off as serious. She leaves and them comes back later for a food order. Melissa gets chicken strips. I’m still pretty turned off by the girl’s comment, so I don’t think I get anything, and she doesn’t seem to care anyway. Melissa now has her chicken strips, and they have brought me a beer. It’s only about ¼ full. I sip it, and it is the one I was thinking of (it tastes like some German style, maybe a doppelbock?) and tastes good. I just can’t really believe they served it that empty, so I snapchat it to Brittney. The bill is $40, $20 a person I figure. I want to tip her absolutely nothing, and I don’t think it would be unjustified. I consider writing her a note on the receipt as well.

I am in the garage of some unfamiliar house. I have just come down here, and I notice that it’s fairly cluttered and dim (it almost looks like/feels like it could be very late at night). I notice some empty beer bottles here and there and Dad standing by a fridge. He sees me, is silent for a moment, then starts uncontrollably giggling. He is also by a case of Vienna Lagers. There’s a palpable sadness at observing him like this at this hour. (There was also a blue armchair that I assumed he sat in down here).

I am at some small event in some smaller event room. There are people from work here as well as Sage and maybe her boyfriend. I have come here with Makayla; I think it is somewhere in California. Makayla calls Mom to ask if we can stay here for dinner. I say, mostly to myself since she’s on the phone, that Mom could throw us a 20 and it would help. Mom says yes, inciting a subdued bout of excitement. I envision taking an Uber back just as a humorous scenario, mentally gawking at what it would cost if they even go that far. I am seated now, at the end of one of two tables that abuts the other. Against the wall and on smaller display tables are the beers on tap. Each actually looks like its own little machine - they range in appearance from slushee machines to small drink vending machines, etc, each with their own design for the beer within. Evelyn from work is looking at them all, very closely. I wasn’t going to go up and look at them alone, so I take this opportunity. There are some fairly good options, but nothing amazing. I think I see the Sierra Nevada Torpedo. I think there is a porter and a hefeweizen, the hefe in what looks like a pineapple yellow pina colada machine. I think its name is slightly off - actually Heineken or something? I think I decide to pass on it because it seems like a bad imitation of the style. I think I end up with a glass of the Torpedo. I’m now seated again, across from Sage and maybe her boyfriend. The apparent host, a petite, bald, bespectacled man wearing a white apron around his waist, is coming around and jovially making sure everything and everyone is okay. Everyone seems to be uplifted by this quaint man’s demeanor. He takes Sage’s order, which is ‘spare pork’. I now see a plate of it in front of her, three or four generously sized slices of pork. He looks at me now, and I want the same thing, but ‘spare pork’ sounds wrong, so I say instead ‘the same thing’. I notice my drink is a few sips away from being empty. I want to order another while I have the service available, but I also don’t want to ask for more while I still have some.




I am working a wedding. I am standing outside and near the entrance gate to what seems to be a large, upscale country club. Everything seems spread out, showcasing the grassy, and in places marshy, land. It seems like a pleasant day. I am holding a fairly big gift bag - it is for the couple whom I just saw but now cannot find. I feel sort of out of place. I want to get this gift to them, but guests keep showing up, expecting me to direct them. A lifted, impossibly white truck approaches; the driver is impeccably clean cut and dressed in an effortlessly classy and flattering suit. Through his open window, he tells me that he likes my shoes. They are my new ones (that I bought at work). I’m also wearing dress pants and a tucked dress shirt. He now asks me where the ‘halfway point’ is, and I hesitate. He asks again, kind of snootily, as if I should know right away. It makes me feel kind of stupid. I then recall an image of a white line on some asphalt, so I tell the man to continue on and he will see the halfway point marked with a white line, gesturing with my hands. To my left, I see the asphalt walkway meandering through and then becoming obscured by some tall grasses. I see men in suits walking with girls in dresses, all pastel colors, and it is idyllic. I now start walking, but I am not on any walkway. The ground is marshy; my feet start to sink enough to get the tops of my shoes wet. Beth has apparently been watching me and asks what I’m doing. I inwardly agree with her sentiment and start to come back. I still want to give them this gift though, so I start again, though this time I seem to be holding onto some kind of ledge and traversing with my feet also on some small lip of something more solid than the marsh. It all seems cramped and small and obscured by the foliage. *It is as I’m doing this that I hear my alarm go off.




Mom is in my room and has apparently been going through my stuff, as she is holding up what’s left of a joint in a plastic bag that was hidden in my laundry basket. She seems really upset, mad, or disappointed. I’m not sure why; it’s really not that big of a deal to me. She’s also holding some new clothes she got for me. There are some tank tops on hangers and some red and blue underwear that look more like Speedos. I take them and hang them in the closet; they are a tight fit. I think I’m getting ready to go to class or work.




I am in the bathroom with Melissa. I am naked at least from the waist down, and using some hair removal cream? on my pubic region. For whatever reason, I start rubbing it on my lower legs, until it starts to feel like there’s less hair (I didn’t intend to remove the hair on my legs). I tell Melissa I just accidentally removed all my leg hair and she doesn’t believe me. I rub my legs, feeling only skin and stubble.

I am about to go to a party with Amy, Blake, Salina, etc. Melissa is with me right now, and I think we’re at Dad’s. We go into the garage to pick a few beers from a case (*they look like the Lost Coast ones). While we’re getting ready/are ready, a dark SUV pulls into the driveway. The people about our age in it are dressed up like it’s Halloween and are coming back from this party like it’s already over. One of the guys seems a little too intoxicated. We stop and talk with them for a little. Now I’m thinking about the possibility of them offering weed at the party. I consider if I’d accept or not and how much, if any, I’d mix with drinking.




I’m in a bedroom, writing down either the notes for a dream I’ve remembered or the dream itself. Dad and Scottie are in here too. Scottie is awkwardly watching me, seemingly amazed. It’s kind of annoying, and I think about going to a different room.

Something about Sam and some guy. Sam and this less-than-quality guy are hooking up or dating or otherwise getting together at some level other than friends. I think all of us, and Brittney?, are outside. Sam and the boy go up in the hills. He has blond hair and a typical ‘fuck boy’ style. I think he is also up to no good.




I am at Beer NV with Melissa, Brooke, and I think one other. It looks almost entirely different though, looking more like a restaurant, with different sections of tables. The energy is more subdued as well, feeling like a lazy afternoon. I have sat at the table in the midst of their playing a game that consists of a coaster sized circle piece with dots in equal increments around its perimeter. The players are supposed to connect the dots by choosing a person in the spot that correlates with the dot. The person or the connection of the dots is based on how many siblings the chosen person has? The connections then become edges along which this circle is cut, creating a new shape. (The object may be to produce a certain new shape?) On my turn, I pick Brooke. They ask ‘you think?’, mostly rhetorically but partially seriously, as they have already tried choosing Brooke but are also running out of possible solutions. Now, everyone here is playing a new (trivia?) game. An employee (Deborah?) is coming around, checking for people using their phones. I am on my phone, but I’m only checking the tap list on Digital Pour. I lock the screen and lay it on the table, seeing no need to worry about it being out if I’m really not cheating. I think about how I didn’t know they do this many games here. I now think I’m ready for another beer, feeling fine to drive, and alternate between the menu on my phone and the physical menu just within reading distance, up on the wall. The hanging chalkboard? is quite large, though the writing is small. It hangs above a rectangular table that is behind the bar counter, which is also fairly large. Two men, one old, sit at this table. Nobody else is going up to the counter, but I think it is still okay to do so. I now have a glass of beer, but I am outside with Dad and Melissa. It looks like the old house’s backyard. Dad starts talking to us. He has a few more sips of a dark beer in the glass in his hand (a nonic pint type) and the indication of more than a few sips past in his eyes and speech. This beer is a contrast to mine, which looks to be blood orange. Dad ends up showing us pictures on his phone, his age betrayed by how he holds it and swipes through pictures. One of the pictures is of Dad standing and smiling with a younger blond lady. The next picture is that same girl and one other, seated on a bench on either side of Dad, their shirts held open, small tits exposed and nipples censored (by some overlay/exposure or addition to the photo). I almost think he’s going to realize he didn’t mean to show us this one, but he leaves it up and starts giggling unabashedly. I’m not sure what to do other than laugh along at the entire situation.

I’m in some fairly upscale restaurant with Mom. it sort of looks like the Atlantis buffet. We walk up to a counter. There’s a server, white, probably late 20’s, in all white, a chef’s hat too, I think, what comes up to greet us. Mom says something about a drink - beer or wine?- and I get concerned for a second. She specifies to him “Clausthaler”, and he pours one. There is also dessert - I think for us. The man is putting pieces of cake on separate plates, focusing on an appealing display.

I am going to go to Beer NV with Brittney and a group of her friends and I think also to celebrate Makayla’s birthday. I’m in the process of walking to the car with Makayla outside of Dad’s house when I realize I haven’t gotten anything. Now I am at Beer NV (Makayla’s not here). It is smaller and almost seems more like a converted house. The tap list is on a smaller screen, and each has a thumbnail picture to go with it (*not pictures of the brewer’s logo or the beer’s logo like in reality). I notice Brittney and Chris, though there may be others. I end up with two beers, I think the second coming after my first is close to empty. The first is a beer dark golden in color but milk stout in taste. It’s smooth and tasty. The next beer is a juicy/hazy IPA, and it is in a small milk carton. There’s a glass with a sip of orange juice left in it; I get the idea that combining them might result in something tasty. Now we are going to go somewhere for a bit, so I get the idea to put this carton in the fridge before we leave (not sure if I actually do). When we return, I walk up to the couple-seat counter, from behind which the owner greets me. I ask for the beer with the picture of the band, saying I can’t see which it is from here. He grins and says the band name (something both Irish and punk sounding, starting with an L). He’s saying that it’s pretty strong, as if I wouldn’t like it. I tell him I’m fine with that, and it’s almost like he doesn’t believe me, but he still pours it. It is in a simple and smaller glass stein. I finish it fairly quickly (it tastes like the Brewer’s Cabinet scotch ale) and go back for another. Now everyone is trying to leave to go out someplace else. I think they’re going to be drinking there too. I close the tab and see the total on the receipt as $96 (or $98). I think it should not be that high, going over what’s on it. I’m not sure how much to tip either. I think I now leave with both copies of thee receipt. I think I’ll need to bring it back and also leave my phone number on it for rewards

I am in some building that feels like maybe a school or somewhere with some offices in the back. I’m waiting in the wood paneled hallway, waiting for the man inside the office to finish up with someone. The other person leaves, inciting a silence to take over. I peek my head through the doorway and see the man focused on some work on his desk. I really hate to interrupt this, but I slowly enter and ask if he has a moment. He says yes and waits kindly for me to talk. I slowly tell Bill Kreutzmann, addressing him by his first name, “thank you.” He seems to get rather emotional, and tears appear in his eyes. This causes me to become a little emotional as well. He tells me that means so much to him and that no one’s ever told him that before. I try to lighten it up a bit by saying something like ‘thank you for just fuckin’ playing the drums in a band that means a lot to me.’ We talk a bit more, and I end up leaving here with him. We approach a car, his, in the lot, where another man asks Bill about me. Bill says I’m fine, the other man nods, says I’m ‘in’. Bill now drives us, me in the back, to some type of shopping center. I’m out of the car with the door still open when Bill comes over, and I ask jokingly if I’ll need any of these, gesturing to three Grateful Dead shirts laid out on the bench style seat (and a backpack of mine - the backpack I had in middle school?) He chuckles and says no. I mention how I have the three, the first with ‘Grateful Dead’ in a large font, the second a tie dye, and the third a grey one (thinking of the grey one I have with the skull and glasses). We now walk into a building here. Once inside, I lose track of Bill and the other man. There’s quite a few people walking around in here. I awkwardly start walking around, until a man by a doorway gestures to me, seemingly knowing what I’m looking for. I go through the doorway, and it is now clear why we’re here. This large living room sized room has a stage at the far wall. The drum set takes up a large portion of it (maybe a quarter of the stage, though it’s centered). There are a few rows of picnic styled tables here. The lighting is dim and blueish. I deduce that Bill is going to be playing with a band here tonight. I think that it’s a weekday and I hadn’t planned on being out late, but I’m fine with it. The few tables are mostly full, but I look for a spot, doubling back once. I then find a spot at the end of one closer to the door and have a seat. A girl (someone I knew from high school?) has her knees on the bench and the rest of her body bent over the top of the table. She then slides back down, leaving less room by me. I look amongst those seated and notice Ian and some other familiar faces from high school. They’re singing “god don’t play dice with the universe” with a sort of subtle communal fervor. It irritates me that these ‘cooler’ kids are capitalizing on something that a less popular person, like myself, genuinely likes. Now, I (and maybe 1-2 others) am lying on the ground in front of the stage. The stage seems very tall from down here. The ground seems very soft, more like carpet or grass. I am flat on my back, with my eyes closed. I think I am paying attention to sensory input and getting slight OBE feelings/perceptions.




I’ve gone into some store with Melissa. I’m not sure if this building is standing alone or entered into from another building. The place seems to sell only craft beers as well as wine. I look all over for a certain beer (Moonraker?) but do not see it anywhere. I think I ask someone, and he doesn’t see any either. I think I’ll just pick up two six packs that were on sale, something like 2 for $6, because it’s a good price. I go to grab it and can’t find it. I look all over again and still don’t see it, so I just grab a Hop Valley IPA that’s the same deal. The cans look like pints and are grey with a fairly plain label.

I have started a job at Whole Foods. I’m pretty sure I’m still training, but right now I’m just sitting in the break room with the employees in here what are eating. There are a few rows of cafeteria style tables and a fridge or two. I notice that what everyone is eating looks pretty healthy. I think that what I eat isn’t all that healthy and think that I might be self conscious bringing it for lunch. Skye is one of the people in here. I’m pretty sure a few people have a beer, like it is acceptable here. Now, it seems like it’s almost time to be going back. A guy probably in his mid 20s with a beanie and shorter but dense, darker beard stands in the room and starts telling everyone it’s time to get some fresh air. It seems like he doesn’t have that much control over anyone right now. Everyone slowly starts to listen, and they start spreading out to all the corners and walls. Someone tells me I want to give myself some space. Now the guy is directing us, though it seems like everyone already knows what to do. The first thing we’re doing is running to the opposite wall. I think they do these group exercises/activities every day before they go back. Now I’m by some girls who are doing an activity that involves different colored counters/pieces. I think you need to guess the order they need to be in, because behind the chair of the girl who seems to be guiding everything is a row of small, colored car counters. I start moving them, and a girl laughs with me because I’m not supposed to mess up the order of them.

I have gone into Beer NV and Dad is here too, seated. The bar counter is shorter (in length and, I think, height), and the tap handles seem closer. Overall, it feels slightly different. As I approach the counter, a friendly girl comes up and asks what I want. I’m not really ready yet, but don’t want to pass up the service while I have it, so I ask her what dark beers they have right now. She starts describing some and pours a sample of one. Dad tries it and likes it. I try it now too. It is very chocolatey. There also seems to be dark residue at the bottom, like a cup of coffee. I ask for this one, and she pours a glass. Dad now gets up to go to the bathroom and seems either off or drunk or both. The lady looks at me, mouthing ‘is he okay?’, to which I nod coolly and confidently and give a thumbs up. I now have another beer - a wheat beer? I talk with Dad a bit, before he leaves. The lady is now pouring me a small glass of Golden Ale, just because. I end up not having time to have any because I leave shortly after Dad. I feel a little bad about leaving it completely full and untouched. I also remember that I didn’t even tip, when I should’ve tipped her well. It then occurs to me that I didn’t even pay. I think about calling them to see if either of us paid. The time is about 11pm.

I am seated in some restaurant at a longer table with some of the family. I look at the menu and the drink menu. A pudgy waiter comes over and takes Dad’s drink order. He then looks at me, but I haven’t decided yet. I ask if they have a porter or a stout. He says yes after I say ‘porter’ and then yes again to the stout. I ask for the stout. Dad, sitting across from me, has now done something that makes me extremely irritated. We have our food now, and I pick up my plate and beer and go sit at another table. I position myself so I’m mostly facing away from the other table. I can see Uncle Scott though, and he looks frustrated (possibly at me).




I am outside with some others, walking through a rocky crevasse. You can tell that it’s been developed for climbing, and someone points this out. We now come to a spot that looks like it has not been developed. There is also a grey boulder that is maybe the size of a car, but disc shaped and levitating. There are thin branches or vines hanging from it, and I’m not sure how you’re supposed to climb it. There also seems to be some kind of energy force around the boulder. I walk under it and let myself fall backwards. The force supports me and slightly moves me. Now, it feels as if this must’ve been something I was reading, as I am closing a thin paperback. It was the end, and I know there is more, but I can’t find the sequel as I sort through books on a shelf.

I am driving with Makayla and have parked in some small, exposed, and slightly elevated lot. The low walls around are tan and look to be adobe or stucco. I am going to go into a store while she waits in the car. This ‘store’ looks antiquated and like it’s from a different country. It’s made of the same material. It has dirt floors and apparently not much else. I am carrying some sort of red, woven material that folds like a windshield sun screen. It seems worn and is slightly torn in the middle. I think I’ll pick up a case of beer while I’m here. I have now ended up out on the street. It’s busier out here and looks like it might be India. I’m looking for somewhere and can’t find it, when I run into Aly. We look at the map on my phone as she tells me directions. It’s right by where I came from, so I’m not sure how I missed it. This area and its few buildings are built into a slight hill. There’s also a fairly large river running besides and under the streets. Brenton is swimming in it. I think Kassidy is here too. I get into the river too. It is wide and seems very deep. It is not exactly clear, but it doesn’t feel or look dirty. It has a fairly strong current and only a few inches between it and the road it flows under. Brenton easily flows with it, but when I get in, the current and small space to pass through almost catch me off guard. I then relax and start floating. The underside of the road looks more like a small cavern. I am now on the other side and start climbing up a dark stone carving of a gargoyle I think. It’s sloped, but I manage to hang on. I then jump off and bounce on the water a few times and never actually go under. Kat comments on it from above.

I have gotten home to Dad’s house (it looks different though - large and antiquated. As I write this, I realize it’s similar to some of the buildings in Old Town Sacramento). I go into a room that has two beds. Dad is asleep on his back in the closest bed, and Emma and Makayla are in the other, laying on their stomachs so they can face the TV that is playing a movie. I see an empty Stone beer bottle or two by Dad and think he must’ve been trying to ease the pain. I then think I’d like to get a beer for myself and go to do so. I think I look in the pantry, but do not find any and realize they’re in a different room. I go into this room, with the beers and my keys with the bottle opener on them, when I hear a fairly loud and disconcerting sound. It sounds like something deliberately tapped or knocked or something. I look at the TV on the wall and instead of being off, it appears to be on, but not on any channel. What’s on the screen is black and dark green, amorphous and moving fairly fast and ominously. I turn the TV off but it simply comes right back on. This happens a few times. There is also a painting of a girl in this room. The fabric where her nose is painted is ripped, and it appears real blood has flowed from it. A few times I look back at it, there is more blood. I think I ‘broke’ the nose. I think there are more noises and instances of the presence of a spirit being strongly felt.

Makayla is sitting in some open type area that seems like a pier. It is a bench type seat that seems to be right above some shallow water. The water extends a ways under the covering. It is fairly dim. By her is a large case of beer that has different slots for the different types. I think it has cans and bottles. She is opening a stout bottle and pouring it into a glass. I try it and tell her it is too cold and needs to be warmer. Surprisingly, she agrees with this. I want to have my own, so I open and pour a bottle, but it is the wrong color - a hazy orangey yellow. I see that this is some IPA with a blue label with a fish on it. It is good though, and I am still going to finish it. Later? I am looking for Makayla. I walk down to a row of houses from which I can see the ocean right behind. I am going to go between two houses, but see that it is still pretty much their yard and that there are some people out. I end up seeing Makayla through the screen window of a brown RV that is also close to the ocean. I look up to the window above me and talk to her a bit.



Melissa has on a floral dress and apparently nothing on under it. She has crawled onto me with a certain degree of fervor and is riding me ‘in reverse’. It’s a very nice moment. The Grateful Dead is on in the background; they’re playing an early (1974) They Love Each Other. After a few lines, he stops singing while the music continues, as if he has forgotten lyrics. I think I was the one singing and couldn’t remember any further?