rshort1202

I am working outside at Grassroots. The space doesn’t actually look like what we have; it’s more of an open dirt space with some tables, tents, and boxes, and I don’t see the store in the background. I’m sitting under a smaller shade tent, making a card. I must’ve put glue on the front, because I’ve poured quite a bit of sprinkles (pinks, whites, and purples) on and am shaking it slightly so they’ll settle and coat the front. Before I can finish, Ben comes over and asks if I want to learn ‘the fire’. I say yes, setting the card down and getting up to follow him. He’s not wearing a mask, so I am able to see his face. There’s a fairly large fire pit with a stainless steel ring around it that they use to do some kind of work. I’m not sure we’ve done anything yet, when everyone sits around the pit for lunch. I think that someone here makes lunch for those what want it but that about half of everyone has brought food. I have a grocery bag full of smaller bags of food items that is resting on my feet dangling over the edge of the pit. The pit is maybe ten feet across and there’s probably ten to twelve of us. I notice the different extents of mask wearing. Most don’t wear one, allowing me to see some faces for the first time. I wonder, but am not worried, about us all being this close. No one else seems to mind either. At some point, I am by Zoe. She is pretty close to me, and I notice how she’s wearing a thin, light blue bandanna over just her nose. I’m not sure how this is even done; there seems to be a twist in it - it’s coming from the side - that allows it to barely hang on. I’m thinking that it makes no sense and is bold for her. She happily tells me not to worry, that I ‘won’t be getting her air.’ I’m not sure.




I’m approaching what seems to be a very hipster restaurant. It looks like Midtown, and I think I’m with two others (not sure who). There’s a section of outdoor seating that is a small triangle, the side of which is a thick, split rail fence. The picnic style seating is overcrowded with lots of black band shirts and long, greasy hair - that kind of crowd. We go in and are seated now. Our waiter is friendly. Looking through the menu of two to three pages, I decide that the place is overpriced. There’s a ‘dog’ (hot dog?) something for $20. At the top of the menu, it says something to the effect of: If something doesn’t come with a side, we’ll try to come up with something else. I notice a menu item that I think is some kind of pasta that I like for a reasonable ($12-13) price. The waiter sees me looking and says yes, it means what I think it does. I’m not sure I even asked him. He says part of it means salad or something about a salad. I think he brings out beer now. I am putting a bottle cap into an orange, plastic ring where it snaps into place. It looks like the plastic rings for a six pack of cans, but small enough to fit bottle caps instead. I think about possibly getting some beer on draft too because I see two guys at a counter with a pint of lighter beer each. They look younger and, for whatever reason, like they’re from California (they look extremely average, though). There’s a blond guy sitting alone further down this long bench. He is small but buff. He’s wearing jeans or overalls and a tight shirt. I think he’s talking on the phone and he sounds absolutely vapid. For some reason, I think he’s ‘typical Reno.’




I’m in a large, opulent house on a hill where I know Jim, Rhianna, and Ella are staying (I don’t think I ever think of John - it’s almost like before he was born?). There’s something about a storm heading this way, over the nearby ocean. I’m looking for everyone, but they all seem to be taking a shower. I think Ella and Rhianna are in the same one or at least the same bathroom. I go into a dark bedroom and open the bathroom to see a dim light on and hear the shower with low water pressure running over a person. I know Jim is in there, so I wonder why all these lights are out.




I’m with Melissa, and we’ve ended up at Dad’s house. This house is actually very large and opulent. I think we’re on the second floor, in the spacious kitchen with marble counters and nice wood cabinets. I smell something good and then notice a plate of barbecue chicken. We now decide that, on second thought, the smell is not that good. Dad now shows up; I didn’t know he was here.

Melissa and I are going to a Tool concert. I think we’ve done some acid, and when we approach the stadium (or it may be the giant stage) I get a strong visual. What looks like a wall of psychedelic flames spreads to each side from a geometrical center of different blues. It is impressive and awe inspiring. We are now finding our seats. They are both on an upper level, but they are not together. I say it shouldn’t be hard finding someone willing to switch. We are sitting together now. I think her mom or Sage’s mom is here. My seat is a corner where the row turns and is more like half of a seat. The first set is over now, and I haven’t felt any further effects from the LSD. Melissa apparently hasn’t either, so we both take more. The ‘acid’ seems to be a small tray of some baked food. We eat the grease at the bottom, and it proves more powerful. Shortly thereafter I am hit with a sudden change in my perception. We look at each other at the same time, eyes wide. After the show, we’re in a convenience store. Melissa shows me three lighters she’s buying. I guess the lighter fluid is the acid or is a component. She seems excited, but I can’t believe she’s getting three, thinking about how much that will make.

I am walking on a path that is about to fork and incline up a hillside. I think Mom or someone else is with me. There are also two middle aged or younger women that have been walking fairly close to us. They start talking with us, asking if we think they can manage the uphill. They seem kind of sketchy to me, so I try to get them to take the path in the other direction. They end up choosing to do so, and I think it is so they don’t have to keep walking awkwardly close to us. On the uphill now, the path is narrow and sandy. I see the women walking off in the other direction and one is pulling a cart behind her, so I guess it’s good they didn’t come this way anyway.




I am outside somewhere with Melissa, and we’re walking up to some pizza place. The storefront has some windows - I see no door - and a stainless steel counter top. There are a few picnic style tables crowded together in the front, currently all full (I think with only men). The owner? is sitting among everyone, facing us, and I hear him call out for someone’s order. He has an air of being among everything in a perfectly friendly way while also being on top of all the operations. He seems shorter and rotund, shaven and with short but thick brown hair, and genial. He takes a pizza on a white paper plate and tosses it to someone like a frisbee. It nears the ground and then slows impossibly until the guy grabs it. We’re now sitting across from this guy at a high table. He is eating from a plate of something. There are a few, three?, beers brewed/served here, and I contemplate getting one. I think they’re all IPAs, which I’m not too thrilled about. The guy refers to one as ‘thickest/dankest’? and I decide that it does sound good. I offer to get him one, and he says something about not needing another, but says yes anyway. I can tell by his grin and behaviors that he is feeling it.

Outside in a parking lot there is what looks like a small carnival/festival tent over some seating. The tent is very low, only a few feet off the ground, causing me to wonder what kind of effect that has on the spread of the virus. I see that it’s a Brewer’s Cabinet ‘information’ tent - it’s spelled out in small light bulbs. They are serving tasters and I think it, with it being dim and nice outside, would be fun. I go into the main building though; it has a mostly light wood interior. I pass through two vestibule type spaces, each only big enough for a person or two. The first has greetings written in various neon colors all over. I think there’s also a menu that I largely pass over. The second space has the beer menu taking up at least two walls and also written in neon colors. There are a few gold winning beers at the top. Each beer is labeled with who brewed it; at the very bottom, this includes even the janitorial staff. I wonder about how good those are. I notice mostly IPAs, but a fair selection of others. At this point, someone comes over to take my order. I’m still looking, so she recommends a brown ale that you then email the brewer with what it tastes like. (I think it’s supposed to ‘taste like poop’?) I tell her no, look for a tiny bit longer, then end up picking it, I think just because a brown sounds good anyway. They tell me its 8.8% and 8 something else, maybe the price? I’m outside with the beer now. I try it and it’s smooth, kind of light, chocolatey, and pretty good. The glass seems somewhat small. I ask a passing server if they have chicken tenders and he chuckles and says not really because they’re so dry. (I think of the ones I got once at Claim Jumpers). I think Melissa is here now, and we’re sitting. There is quite a bit of seating. We put up an umbrella that is pretty structurally unsound.

I am with Melissa at Dad’s. I say ‘at Dad’s’, but it looks like it is the kitchen and then absolutely nothing else around it, just kind of a barren expanse/void. It seems like it’s really early in the morning, and I’m making food and getting ready for work. I’m making spaghetti, and when I put the noodles in the pot Melissa mentions how there’s lots of ‘Zoe hair’. I think I just say ‘no’ because I don’t care or because I’m kind of embarrassed. It’s now ready and I’m putting it in two containers but also eating some because I realize I need breakfast, which leaves a smaller portion than I wanted. I look over and Melissa is scrolling through her phone. She takes a while to respond, or just doesn’t, which causes me to become very angry. I shove some of the tupperware, and then I can tell that she knows I’m irritated. I think I am only wearing boxers.




I am on a plane with Makayla. It’s crowded and everyone wears a mask. She’s talking to a boy about her age and I amicably join.




I am blissfully rising up and floating through a clear blue sky.

I’m at what seems like a high school. There are a lot of others here, and we are all by smaller openings that kind of look like shop doors and have a common area that looks like a gym or foyer. There’s going to be a competition of painting snowboards? and showing them off. These ‘snowboards’ are blank wooden pieces that are taller and wider than actual snowboards. I’m painting mine with a stealie that takes up about a third of the space (towards the top) and is backed by what looks like the night sky blending into space. Looking around, I see at least two other stealies and think that the Grateful Dead must be trendy now. The group right next to me - they look like the trendy sort - are doing one: it is a close up on the lower portion of the stealie above some thick strips of Rasta color. I watch as they pour paint onto the board, it lingers and slowly starts to spread, and then of its own accord slides perfectly into the lines. The stealie itself is far too vivid to have been painted - it looks more airbrushed. I am at the first door on the left and was assuming I’d be going first, but it turns out that I’ll be going last. It seems like these presentations are taking forever. I think there’s something about Melissa coming over after this; I’m getting impatient because this seems to be going on into the night.




I’m at a picnic style table at the bottom of a slight but fairly long hill in what seems to be a pretty barren landscape. I’m with two others (Ryan and Mom?) and eating McDonald's. I’m eating hot dogs with onions or relish and say how I always get two of them because of the deal. I think I eat a few other things, feeling very full at this point. The last thing i eat is a piece of chocolate cake. There is a waiter that comes over a few times and a comment about him being gay as he approaches (I think he is wearing very short shorts). The others get up to leave, but I want to order dessert.

The owner of Beer NV is having me hand out some things - beer and food, I think - to houses, I think because they can’t come inside for service. The neighborhood I am in seems pretty nice. On the porch of the first house I go to, there is actually more stuff than I was going to hand out. On a table there are a bunch of bags of snacks - chips and things. I pick up a good handful and start walking away. I then notice a male voice trailing me; I think the owner of the house noticed what I did. I keep walking and ignoring him until eventually he confronts me. I somehow work my way out of it, and we end up in a trade. I end up with three 12oz bottles of beer. They look familiar and I realize they are German, which makes me happy.

I am somewhere outside? with Melissa, Pepe, and his mom. I think they both look high and then, sure enough, she lets on that they are. She confides in us that Caesar is the head of some pot farm/ selling ring or something similar. I can see it, imagining him and his boisterous personality right now. Now, I am climbing up through some tall and thin wooden structure. I pass through ‘floors’ that are spaces barely bigger than my body. Each side of the space, I think even including the top, is a mirror, making for a trippy experience. I now get to what seems to be the top. It is different because the sides are concave, joining in a small ceiling, and it seems there’s nowhere left to go. I don’t accept this possibility though, and push on one of the sides. It opens and reveals a vast, dim space that I think may be the pot farm.




I am in New York City with Melissa, walking along a sidewalk. The street is busy and I can smell and taste the putrid emissions from passing trucks. The sidewalk is close enough to the street, but it thins even further at one point, leaving hardly any space for foot traffic. We pass a tower with a parabolically curved glass facade. The glass is mostly translucent, but it gets much dimmer higher up. There is a space behind the glass, in which there are large advertisements. Melissa says something about how they won’t even be visible. I agree. We end up in a restaurant that seems familiar (from another dream, I think). I notice a couple about our age in the booth behind us, across from me. They are dressed pretty nice for this place and sitting on the same side. I think about their life. I notice a man in sunglasses sitting alone at a booth diagonal from us. Melissa asks to trade sides, and we do. I look through the fairly short menu and decide I want pretty much the first thing on it, some corn dog things. The waitress, brunette and maybe 30+, comes over and seems out of it, like drunk or sad or something. She gives us a minute. I look at the extensive beer list in the back. They’re sorted by brewery (they must all be local - I don’t recognize any), under the brewery’s logo. The price per beer is then listed after the name, lowest to highest, separated by slashes. Most of the first prices are six to seven dollars, but I see prices like 9,16, 27, 59, etc. I think these prices must be for bottles and/or pitchers but that they’re still ridiculous. I guess that’s just how it is in the city. Nothing sounds too good anyway, so I figure I’ll settle for a slightly cheaper bill. The waitress returns and sits by me, putting her hand on my shoulder. It could be a nice gesture, but with how she is slightly rubbing her hand it is taken a little too far. She takes Melissa’s order and then mine. I say ‘I just found something, where did it go?’, trying to find it again. I find it and tell her while also pointing. She doesn’t say much. She comes back and sits again. This time she reaches over and grabs my crotch. I am a little shocked and put my own hand over it. When I move my hand, she does it again and then leaves. I text or tell Melissa and she just shrugs it off. I want to tell her what kind of reaction there would be if the genders were switched.

I am at Nathaniel’s, watching him for a while. I’m lying on my back, with my legs straight up, him balancing his torso horizontally on my feet and holding my hands to balance. He seems to be having fun, and his personality is just as I remember it. Now, his dad is here, and he is just as nice as I remember him too.




I am walking into what I think is a huge Walmart. As I walk in, I am cognizant of my middle parted hair hanging almost to my shoulders. I’ve decided that I am growing it out again and am pretty happy with this resolution. I also remember asking Makayla and her saying I should. I think I am going in here for a Christmas gift. I think I’ll look in the kitchen aisle for Mom and then I think for Melissa too. I end up not even finding the aisle, but end up by the cases of water. Everything looks like it is in bulk. I also notice bulk sized jugs of different tequilas and vodkas for around $10. One is called ‘Jimmy John’s Vodka’, which I think cannot be that good. I then get the idea to look at the beer, just to see what they have. There is a somewhat small selection on a few shelves, but then I notice that it is labeled ‘non alcoholic’. I step out into the wide and long main aisle (almost the size of a street) and notice a guy coming towards me on a bike. I started stepping into his path, but then wait for him to pass. I think I am also aware of my eyesight and how it is not that good. I have found the beer aisle now, which seems to be mostly six packs of cans in cardboard boxes. Nothing really looks that appealing. One says ‘Finally Harvest Time’ and has a graphic of a moon and the silhouette of a person. I think that can’t be that good either. Now, I am by some food products and wonder if I should just grocery shop while I am here. I don’t have a basket, but I can carry a few things. I am looking at the breads, thinking about what I would use them for. There is one that looks like four large pretzel rolls. I then notice the same package in someone’s cart, and the bottoms of the rolls look slightly burned. At the end of the aisle now, I see a large, circular, plastic container of frozen chicken tenders. There seems to be three groups, each arranged around a thing of sauce? The label indicates that it is a Phil Lesh brand, which I think is cool. I pick it up, contemplating getting it, but put it back because it’s really big. Then, I hear Phil himself over the intercom, saying that it’s my last chance if I was thinking about getting those. His voice is calm and monotonous, which makes it sort of humorous.

I am with Melissa, in her room. It seems like it is night time, though not super late - probably a little after everyone’s started to go to bed. I hear what sounds like her dad getting home and coming into the house. Inside now, I hear him calling for me specifically. I’m a little taken aback at him calling me directly, and I look to Melissa. She shakes her head no. I think we’re both undressed, probably post-coital. I decide to go out anyway, putting on a shirt and pajama pants. I don’t think I’ve put underwear on, and I look down to see if there’s a noticeable bulge. I go out to the kitchen or the hallway right before it. He has brought back chocolate and wants me to try it. The ‘chocolate’ looks like a plate of rice and beans, and if it’s really chocolate it looks pretty convincing. I try it and can’t tell which it tastes like. As I raise a spoonful to my mouth, I see something on my hand catch Carlos’s attention. He asks if I had a bloody nose. Using this perfect excuse, I say yes, I must’ve missed a spot cleaning up after it.




I’m in the backseat of a taxi with Melissa, Brittney, and Katie. on the back of the seats there is a screen for gambling, along with buttons to press and a place to insert money. I watch Katie try it and lose $20 right away. For some reason, I try it out too. At first, I think I’ve lost $20 also, but then I see I have a $60 payout. I take the money, but then Brittney starts using some of it to play. I think she loses some of it. I’m kind of irritated, but I still come out with more than I started with. I think the taxi has been in some drive through this whole time?

I am on a road trip with Dad and Makayla, with Dad driving. We are going to Texas, and I see that we’re currently driving through a corner of Utah. It is like I am seeing a satellite map of a moment, and I notice that there is snowfall on the ground right above where we are and will be travelling. It zooms and pans to the right a bit. We pass by many lakes in a short amount of time. They are all fairly small, but they are beautiful. The water is clear enough to see the bottom of an entire lake as well as all the light colored and large rocks within.




I am in a store with Sage when I grab off of a shelf at about eye level a bottle of Lagunitas beer. I think I had been looking for it and am excited to have found it. I tell Sage how good it is as I open it up. I grab a glass from the shelf and pour the beer fairly vigorously into it, producing only a small, snow white head. The beer has the appearance of carbonated white grape juice and smells of the same. I take a sip and it is good. I pronounce Lagunitas funny and kind of laugh about it. Now, I am parking on the side of a residential street behind another car. Dad is on the lawn of this front/side yard, faced away from me; I have come to meet up with him. I think I have brought the full glass and the remainder in the bottle, each in a cup holder. I get out and start talking with him. I ask if he’d be offended if I just stayed at Mom’s while I’m going to school. He hesitates, almost as if taken aback, and then replies, “no, of course not.” He says I can do whatever I need to focus on school. I notice we’re under a large oak? tree that splits near the bottom. I’m now in the house here (Dad’s?), I think with Mom and Makayla. There is indication of past activity, though no one is currently here. There are two boxes of Panda Express open on the counter, each with a glass of white wine sitting too near the edge. I notice about five of the Lagunitas beers, all opened and partially finished. It makes me a little mad because he all of them without asking

I am pulling into a fast food drive through, I think a Del Taco. The curve is a little sharp, so I feel close to the curb, the menu, and the small table on the cement right by the menu. There is a lady sitting at the table, and I feel like she is looking at me. I pulled up too far past the first menu, but I can still mostly make it out; it has a list of red wines. I consider ordering a glass, but nothing seems too appealing. They all look to be $6 a glass, which I think is a good price. I now start speaking with the employee through the speaker box. She says something that I ask her to repeat, so she says it again - she’s telling me that she’s about to go home, I think implying that I should hurry up. I pull up to another speaker box? and quickly order instead of looking for something new, so I don’t hold her up. I order two of one thing and two chicken quesadillas.

I seem to be at work when I answer a call about a girl in white what is following someone into the men’s restroom. I go to check it out, going downstairs, I think on an escalator. This place looks like a retail store, but sort of tall, thin, and cluttered. I now see the entrance to the restrooms, with large pieces of dark wood giving a dim but home-y cabin feel. I enter the men’s, which is on the right. The bathroom is huge and spacious. There are at least two separate spaces with lines of urinals along the stone? walls, each space with a different kind of urinal. The ones closer to me are stone, while I think the others might be steel. I walk up to a stone one and begin using it. It is long and low, sort of a stone rectangle with a basin. I start peeing on the stone above the basin, wondering how many have done the same before. I think there may be one other guy in here, as I seem to hear or sense motion. I look around, thinking about how this bathroom is at least the size of a large room (like in a public building or something; it’s probably the size of a small restaurant). I look around and leave a different way than I came in. I walk up an asphalt path on a slight hill. There are wooden picnic style tables on either side, some with remnants of meals. The whole area is covered by a shade structure, probably some kind of mesh or light tarp, as it is not very thick shade. Passing one table, I notice a tall glass with a handle that is still mostly full of something that is a chocolate milkshake color and consistency. I somehow see a review that they left of it, about how they didn’t like it? I think about trying it but don’t. I now pass an ice cream stand and think about getting some but don’t because it’s too expensive.

I am inside what feels like a gas station, kind of like a Maverick. There is a rolling grill containing the typical gas station hot dogs. I look at the two or three different types and their prices. There is a good price for three of them, so I think I’ll do that. I sort of self consciously think about what I’d look like carrying around three hot dogs with toppings. I now put two each on their own stale looking bun. There’s a fluid that runs off onto the bun; they look terribly under done, but still I keep them. Now, Caitie comes out of nowhere and, apparently working here, asks to see my ID. I’m not sure if she’s joking or not but, as we walk up to the counter, find out that she isn’t. I pull out my ID and give it to her, noticing how long this blue counter is. We talk for a bit and I think she’s really scrutinizing the ID.

I am going on a road trip with Brittney and I think Melissa also. I think that wherever we are going is around eight hours away. I think Brittney is going to drive the whole way, though I think about offering to help since we drive the same car. There is a sense of this being last minute, but not negatively so. Somewhere along the way we stop at a Jack in the Box? I order a number seven - some kind of cheeseburger. I think I initially said small, but the employee asks what size. I start to say large, but he remembers I said small, and it somehow gets brought to medium. Now we are waiting quite a while for our food to come out.




I’m in what feels like the backseat of a car, sitting next to Melissa. I think Brooke and someone else are in the front seats (Brooke in the passenger seat), which seem way too close. Melissa has taken my penis out and is playing with it, I think going down on it once. A flight attendant? squeezes past in front of us, and I put my leg up, trying to hide the hardness against it.