rshort1202

I am driving my Subaru on what feels like a Californian freeway. The lanes seem small, as well as the freeway itself. It may be only a few lanes wide. There are also other, similar freeways traveling in all directions around this one. The resulting surrounding is one of complexity and crowdedness, as well as one of depth - a literal spaghetti bowl of freeway. I am down towards the bottom, where a portion of the sunlight cannot reach. Outside my window, there is a view of the complex concrete in dim lighting that I think would constitute an intriguing and captivating photograph. The proximity and near standstill of traffic allows me to hear a woman in a car somewhere above me cough. Now, as I drive up a slight incline, I realize that my car is not even started. There are no lights on on the display. I turn the key to start it, but it only chokes. Still, the car is accelerating and braking, albeit less than in a fully functioning manner; stepping forcefully on the accelerators seems to give the car less power than it has while climbing a steep hill. I've now parked somewhere out here (there seems to be nothing else around) and watch a few people walk by. I must've stopped to try and resolve my vehicle issue, as I spot a couple standing around that I decide to approach for assistance. The man is perhaps in his late 20s or early 30s, wearing a sleeveless tank top that contributes to his stereotypically redneck appearance. He is accompanied by a cliché blonde girlfriend. I approach and relay my situation, asking if he can help, saying I have my own jumper cables. He coolly and impassively tells me he can help, telling me he too has his own cables, instructing me to bring my car around. I am grateful, though I hadn't expected a decline, as it really is quick and isn't a major inconvenience. Ignoring his unnecessary addition about his own cables, I go to get my vehicle. As I drive back, I am unable to find the man again. There are three tiny and partially filled parking lots on this uneven terrain, and I drive through all of them to no avail.

I am in some building with the cousins. This place feels like an arcade or some type of attraction. It is large, dim, and airy. We pass through a large something that seems like a bounce house when I realize they have left me behind. It produces a bitter sadness, neither of the two components outweighing the other, the combination resulting in an ambivalent resolution. I think I end up talking with some others, though not entirely in an attempt to fill the transient void. Now, I am crawling out of an entrance to this structure. The material does not give like inflated vinyl should - it is hard and slick. There is a small wall on which one must down climb, and this is a sort of game. There is something similar to a jump rope that the climber draws taut across their body, resulting in the removal of their body below that line. The climber must then attempt to climb up/down. I position this rope to have it cut my legs off first, wanting to save my arms. After the line is positioned, the inferior body parts then dissipate, like the common conception of something disappearing by magic.

(fragment) I am in an opulent house, in which there is a room occupying a large corner. There may or may not be a bath tub. There is a bed, with sheets of white and very light hues. The space is very minimal, aiding in its elegance. I think that I am staying here and that this is my room. I think I am showing it to my girlfriend Melissa. It feels like this is downstairs.