rshort1202

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 walk up to a small bar counter in a small room. The room seems mainly to be for some standing space and the counter. I think there is a window with a view behind the counter or a little off to the side, adding some hazy sunlight. A few moments after I situate myself at the counter, a clean cut and conventionally attractive bartender turns his attention to me. He makes eye contact and lifts his chin as a way of asking what he can get for me. The menu seems to be hanging and is in two sections. Each option is a wine, but each is the name of a place. I tell him I see that the options are names of places and not varietals, and I ask what he would recommend given that. I am confident in what I am saying, but I’m still self conscious of my voice. There are people on either side of me, and it feels like their attention is on me and what I’m saying. The man asks what I’m looking for, and I say a white because of the hot weather. He asks what kind of flavors, and I say probably something more creamy than tart and something more sweet than not, but not cloyingly so. I end up saying quite a few flavors to where it still makes sense but is not very specific. He asks me to narrow it down, and I say ‘just not a red.’ he and the couple to my left start laughing. Self conscious, I ask what’s so funny. Amber from Sephora is here now and telling the man “babe, be nice.”





I am in a smaller house that seems to only have basic furniture and no adornments. There is a couple that calls me (from the house across the street I think). The woman is describing a ‘medical emergency’ that really doesn’t sound like one. They want me to do something about it, but I’m trying to talk it down and get out of it. They still end up coming over here, into the bedroom I am in. the woman, with dark hair and eye makeup, starts reprimanding me about the nature of the ‘emergency’ and my reluctance to remedy it. It sounds like the guy, what is here but not saying anything, only scratched his finger, I think from the pin part on an EAS tag. I apologize, empathize, and just nicely tell her what she wants to hear. She’s fairly understanding but still comes off like she thinks she is so in the right. I let her think that but still think it’s puerile. They then leave, I think on good terms.





I am in an unfamiliar city, on a bike. There are buildings either way I could go on this street. I know I need to go somewhere, but I’m not sure where and I’m not sure which way to go. I just follow my gut feeling and it turns out to be right. I am riding along the sidewalk, slightly downhill. It looks like the road is turning into a bridge over water. The sidewalk is divided down the middle by little white markers standing up. Everyone is to the right, and they all seem to be going slow. The bridge seems to be more of a flat expanse now, the road blending into the sidewalk, blending into a smaller barrier at the edge. We seem to be right at water level or just barely above it. The water is bright and clear, soft sunlight brilliantly reflecting upon it. The whole scene is beautiful and slightly surreal. For some reason, I think this is London.

I think I am at work, maybe in the mall? There is a lady at a kiosk or shop with whom I’ve gotten into some kind of verbal altercation. I think it is not unjustified. I am saying something about how it’s the worst service I’ve ever received. I think I’m now in some sort of trouble for what I’ve said and/or done, and I have to leave. I’m with Laynie now, and this place looks and seems more like an elementary school. I am not going to leave, and I think she’s aiding me in not getting caught. It is dark out, and I think we’re attempting to stay in here for the night. There is a group of people who I think are walking around, checking for anyone still remaining. Laynie tells me to hurry, and we run out to my? parked car on what looks like the driveway outside of the old 695 house. I unlock it with the remote on my keys and we climb in, her up front and me in the backseat. I lie down and sort of cover myself with blankets. I think it’d still look like a person if they looked in, but hope it’s too dark to see that well. At one point I am in the front yard, and it seems very overgrown, but with pretty flowers and grasses.

I am with Melissa and some unfamiliar others in what seems like someone’s home. There is some event going on where we are being fed. There is a long table with toppings and ingredients for hot dogs. There are a couple of ladies seated behind the table, serving. This table seems to be in a slight alcove. I am up now and getting jalapenos on my bun. I then get a hot dog. There is a small thing of mayo that I’m going to spread on with a knife. I think the mustard is in a squeeze bottle (*I seem to wake up right at this point).

I am in what I think is a smaller climbing gym inside a shopping mall. I am going to climb, and I feel good, like I’ve been back in it or something. I notice one other guy, sort of larger guy with longer back hair. I think his shirt is off. I think his presence makes me self conscious. I am climbing but it is also like I am clocked in as security at JCPenney. I start moving quite a few shoe boxes that turn out to be empty. I can’t believe that many would be stolen. I have my radio on, and I’m getting called to do something. Entering the shopping mall, I am running. I clear a few longer steps quickly and then slow down self consciously. I think I am following the middle school boys (what stole watches and socks the other night). I enter another clothes store and am walking around inside when I notice their security or associate following someone. He simply asks the person if he is going to buy something. At this point, I think I’ve lost who I was following or they are no longer an issue. Now, I am in the shopping mall, probably in a little communal area, with some unfamiliar? others. They are asking me if I got dirty or something like that. I look at the back of the pant leg on my Levi’s (that looks like mine but a little darker and newer) and there is a little bit of caked on mud. I think I’ve just washed them though, as the rest of them look clean. I glance up and notice that everyone in my view is wearing blue jeans of the same darker blue jean blue. Now, I am in some dim amphitheater-like room. There are large steps of stone and pebble that descend and end at a very small pool. I am running down these steps as well (possibly in slow motion?) At the end, I jump into the circular pool. While in midair, I had humorously asked if there were rocks at the bottom of the pool (concerned about my landing and impact). This pool could probably only fit four people comfortably, and it is between warm and lukewarm. There is a baby (in a diaper, I think)and one other in this pool. Now, I am driving. It looks like S. Virginia under the overpass, right before McCarran. I see multiple people in the street in front of me. They’re walking this way. Slightly annoyed, I’m going to change lanes to go around them to the right. Before I can, they sort of separate to give me room to get through. I notice that they have brooms or mops, so I slow to a stop by them and crack my window. The guy wants to wash my car. I say no and gesture by waving my hand in front of my neck. When I start to drive away, I see the rest of the group on the side of the road to the right. They look very sketchy, like prison-hardened. This impression is based on their face, neck, hand, and everywhere else tattoos, clothing, and also the look in their eyes. I feel bad for saying no because I don’t want them to feel bad or like I’m judging them. As I am driving off, I look at my hood and see that it is a little dusty but not really dirty. I am now on a more rural/residential road. There is snow, only on the houses and yards and not on the road. The area seems somewhat lower income; the houses are smaller and just slightly dilapidated, but nice enough. They are spaced nicely apart. It is sort of like I don’t really know where I am but do know where I’m going (or vice versa?). I now pull into the driveway of a house. This house is definitely unfamiliar, but I am walking up to its door and I have pliers or some sort of tool in my hand. There was a walkway in front of the house, to the right of the garage, leading to the front door. I don’t know what lives here, but I am going to go in. I think I am about to use the pliers when I hear someone coming to open the door. I throw the pliers to the side lawn as the door is being opened. The door opens, revealing an old woman. I am hoping she doesn’t notice the pliers lying on the grass. I am going inside with her now, and it is like she knows me. Behind the door she let me through is a foyer/entryway type area that seems to be outside but covered. It sort of then blends into the inside. She starts talking to me, and I think she thinks I’m her grandkid. I’d feel bad if that was the circumstance, but it almost feels like I am her grandkid. There is an old man in here, sitting at a computer. He says hi to me like he knows me too. We talk a bit, and I then realize it is Opa. I notice his eyes, and I notice his voice is the same. He is wearing blue sweatpants and has his feet up on the swivel chair. His mannerisms are exactly the same. I am about to leave now, as I think there’s something I have to do (write down this dream?), when Granny?/Reta shows up. Now I am kind of stuck here. We all talk for a bit until I can sneak outside. I walk outside to my car blocked into the driveway and Makayla just getting here. I notice Dad’s truck. The right side of the driveway is a bit more open, but I don’t think I could get out. Jon shows up now, wearing a sun hat, shorts, and a button up short sleeve. We’re all inside, a gathering of everyone, and I think I’ll be here a while.

I am with Melissa, Dad, and Scottie. I’m pretty sure we’re going somewhere, but right now, we are sitting at a picnic style table right adjacent to a street intersection. Dad has a store bought card for Scottie, and I have made a card for Melissa. It is smaller and looks like a regular card except for its left side being the shape of half of a heart. It’s come out wrong though - it opens upside down or something like that. Scottie comments nicely on our bringing cards. I notice she is wearing a light lime green hoodie. The front is full of a list of ‘anti’ somethings in a white and all caps font; I notice ‘ANTITRUMP’ towards the bottom and the hoodie’s pocket. I think about how supporters would take offense to this, yet nonchalantly be ‘anti’ many things. I’m now walking along a sidewalk, I think with just Dad and Melissa or Dad and Makayla. This neighborhood is not too far off the main road, yet it still feels removed. It feels like midtown/oldtown. The houses are smaller (some are two stories though, I think) and close to this street and to each other. The look somewhat whimsical. I notice an address in number plaques on the house’s wall - 5150 or something like that. I either think or say that I like this neighborhood. We now end up at the bottom of a long hill with a place sprawled across it. The long house/building atop is an off white. There are tall and droopy trees and an older cement pathway winding up the hill. There is a black man sitting outside somewhere here, rambling about something. I notice a few chains with hooks on their ends hanging down from something (the trees probably?). I know that they’re for musicians to attach to when they play. I think I get an image of that scene in my head. I think they swing on them. In fact, the man starts rambling about this. I grab onto one as I ascend this hill and let it go when I reach the top. It must’ve shortened or something, as it doesn’t swing back and hit me. I imagine what it’d be like or feel like if it did. There are circular patio tables and their steels chairs placed all around. The rest of it seems to be a pretty empty cement plaza. I think this place is called The Project, and I remember coming here a while ago and liking it. I am now by another house. This house also has a large grassy area and patio tables. There is an absolute plethora of tables though - I can’t even imagine that many people being here at once. I enter the house, following Lindsey. There is a long closet on the entryway’s left. It is open or partially open, allowing me to see a row of hanging coats. There is a grey and a green one; the rest look like duplicates of either, possibly just in another size. I wonder why. Lindsey sees me looking, and it is slightly awkward for a moment. We’re back outside now, in the back or side yard. I think I comment on all the tables. It sort of reminds me of an Alice in Wonderland type garden party. She and I each drag a chair a ways out onto the vast and lush lawn. She sits and is going to trim her pubic hair, I think with scissors. I think she’s wearing a skirt that she can lift high enough. I can see the very tops of her thighs, but not much else. She asks me to go get/do something, trying to get me to leave so she can be alone. I know what she’s doing, but oblige anyway by joining a blond kid that is running around. He starts to race, and I find myself unable to run as fast as him. I think it must be because I’m not even trying my hardest. I see the Dots game (that I’ve been playing on my phone) is being played in the distance, like it’s projected onto the sky or something. It seems like dusk or twilight.




I am in what looks like a cross between a warehouse and Winco aisle. I am with some others that I think are movie characters but that I know? We are slowly making our way down the aisle, punching packages of soda cans as we go. I punch one repeatedly and it will not break open, so I take out my pocket knife and dramatically slit the wrapping open. One of the guys is by me when I do so and for some reason derives great joy from it. It is somehow like an idyllic scene from a movie. I remark that 80s movies are really good, that 90s movies are okay too, but not as good. It feels like I/we have just been in a few 80s movies. These others agree with my sentiment. We are now further into this building and sitting around a square and fairly tall table. Two of the others are Ashley M from work and McKenzie Retzer. McKenzie is in very small shorts and a tank top. She is sweaty and lifting her arms to check for a pattern/ring of deodorant stain. She has some specific term for it. I can feel sweat all over my body as well, and I check for the same. I think I do have it but can’t see it. Ashley, what is to my right, gives me two barbell weights. I sort of fuck around with them and then start lifting one straight away from my body on my right. She tells me my arms are strong. I am conscious/self conscious of being observed (by her and myself). I say that they used to be, which she repeats sarcastically/rhetorically. McKenzie tells me I’m scheduled for another workout next Saturday. I tell her I’m glad she signs me up for things or else I’d never do anything.

(In this dream, it feels like I am in a movie - in the dream, I think it feels like reality to me, but after recalling it, it seems more like the whole thing was supposed to be a movie). I am in what seems like a school, probably a high school. There are some women faculty talking to me and/or trying to get me to do something. I am being snarkily defiant because I don’t like whatever it is they’re trying to do. There is a very unsettling vibe. I don’t think they’re entirely malicious, but it feels as if that could change without warning. I think they are trying to capture me or some other guy for some kind of ritual. As unsettling as it is, I think they are going to be cooking the victim. I am outside now, by a house’s front yard, and it is dark out. I see a large cauldron and a thick wooden stake behind it. There was also something about a spoiler in plain sight in this film - something that the victim was going to eat that ends up ruining the ritual?




I am in a parking garage. The ground floor feels pretty open and airy. It also seems sunny and nice out. Carl Wander is here - he works here. I think I’ve come here to casually discuss a job or otherwise have ended up talking about one. I look around and see quite a few people working here. They are my age or younger and don’t appear to be doing much. I think about what it would be like to work here.

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 doing an escape room with Melissa, Brooke, and possibly Breezy. This place looks like an actual house, with a few rooms that we can go into. The house seems very tidy and sort of minimalistic, though not without adornments, and has an antiquated feeling to it, as if lived in by an older person. I get the sense of some sort of travel theme, aided by a huge map of the world taking up almost a whole wall. We are trying to escape now, and it seems like I’m doing a lot of it. It’s not that they aren’t or can’t, it’s just that I can excel in a small group of familiar people. I end up moving a bunch of hanging paintings. One has a clue written in red ink on its back side. Many reveal a tiny, circular light bulb protruding from the wall behind. I imagine that these will all light up later and serve as a clue one way or another. I like that the clues flow easily, even if somewhat too easily, and aren’t disjointed. I had moved a small realistic painting of a brown bear (the bear on a slight incline, seemingly in motion, very realistic, and cropped fairly close). One clue mentioned something ‘dreary’, which we noticed with some excitement was referencing a very large and impressionistic painting of people that looked dreary indeed. (*As I write this, I think it may have been moving this painting that revealed the map). I think we are supposed to place small pins in certain spots on the map. The map is now gone? and there are just little holes in the white/tan wall. There seems to be three different clusters of holes, and I think the pin needs to be placed in the correct hole. Melissa guesses the first placement correctly, after which a recorded voice from a speaker tells us we’ve gotten it correct. We try the other ones but never get a response. I end up telling our situation the female employee on the other end of the radio. She’s quiet for a second and then I hear her say to someone else “I have no idea.” I also don’t really know what there is for them to do when a piece of the game simply isn’t working. At this point, I’m thinking we’ll just have them tell us the answers to this part. I also notice that Melissa and Brooke seem to be off doing something else. I hear them talking and laughing in another room. Then it becomes more quiet, and I go look. Melissa is laying in a small bed in an alcove in the wall just big enough for it. I notice a gap between the far and the wall along the head of the bed (which is reminiscent to me of the sleeping quarters on a boat). Melissa looks grumpy, her face sort of flushed and pouting, her gaze diverted. I go to kiss her but she moves so that we kiss each other on the cheek instead. At this point, I notice that her eyes are a little misty. I was what’s wrong and she keeps saying nothing, etc. I finally get it out of her that she’s upset that the puzzle room is not working as it’s supposed to. It irritates me because it’s such a trivial thing to let yourself get upset over. I go back into the other room now, and I don’t think we even have radio contact with this girl. She said she was going to call the shoe room? This room is behind the other. There’s a writing desk and an old corded phone that I see but never hear. While waiting, I start opening drawers, but find nothing. I’m wondering how much further this puzzle room will go into the house. I notice a bathroom and a room or two off of this one. I never do hear the phone. Earlier, I noticed a timer with a green ‘70’. I thought that meant we were doing really well on time.




I am at Walmart? with Melissa, buying only two things. We are at the end of what is apparently the only line, behind a family of four that looks nice enough but also a little privileged. The woman notices how we only have two items and offers for us to just throw it in with their stuff. I was going to use a gift card, and I’m not sure how much is on it exactly, so I’m not sure how that’d work.




I am outside of a grocery store. I run up to the entrance, pushing a cart, and ask the younger looking boy employee if they do valet, with an absurd touch of humor. I then leave the cart and run inside to retrieve what I’ve forgotten.




I am watching (on the news or some kind of video?) cars driving in both directions on a freeway through a snowstorm. Someone is commenting on how it’s almost been the worst winter when, sure enough, a car starts to drift and ends up impacting a school bus. Then school bus then takes out another vehicle and the whole thing exponentiates into an event that just made it the worst winter to date.

I am with Dad and Makayla in an unfamiliar house, on the brown couch. I have a pair of athletic looking Hanes underwear that are on clearance that I am folding and clipping onto a hanger. It is pretty dim in here, and there is something on the TV. I’m not sure if it’s a movie or what. The scenario is Ted? and some middle aged men (on a sports team I think) getting drug tested. They have to lay down and their outline is sort of outlined or saved on the ground. From toe to head it then fills with color seemingly out of nowhere, the colors indicating drug use. The problem I notice (and they don’t?) is that this is being tested on everyone at once, so you’re not able to see who it was that tested positive. I’m thinking that Ted will test positive because I smoked with him just the other week. The people notice the color indicating drug use, and it then comes out that it is the coach what has been using marijuana weekly (for pain?). He seems slightly defensive and like he thinks testing for it is stupid. Now, I notice that I’m in only a tan bath towel as I get up. I think there are others here, as I am apparently addressing them as I say/shout something like ‘there is a war and you might as well accept it.’ No one responds, so I feel slightly self conscious but still supportive of what I’ve said.

I am, I think, outside of a large, unfamiliar house. It’s slightly above me in elevation, and there’s a slightly winding walkway down to the water? It ends in an octagonal and covered dock. It’s covered in what seems like a green canvas material. There are multiple pieces of it, resulting in slight openings where their edges meet. Someone is/was with me; I ask her if she thinks the weed scent would linger down here, and she says no. I recline in a chair and light a joint. After a few tokes, I shake off the resulting clump of ash.

I am in a house (unfamiliar, I think). Paranormal things keep happening, such as some invisible force moving things and/or touching me. It feels very real, though I’m not sure if anyone else is seeing it.




I am going to an event for/at the preschool. Some others filter in along with me, some familiar. I recognize kids and parents. Inside, there are quite a few people here. It looks like an elementary school. There’s the cafeteria we’re in, the doorway we came in and one directly opposite it, and one hallway off to the left. All in all, it’s pretty small. I see Mom here, talking to a few, and she is in what looks like a stroller. (I think this is due to a disability, but I very much take it for granted in the dream). She spots me also, but is waiting to come over to me. I am overhearing talk of the disarray that Catholic Charities is still in. Tim Mills is here too; we pat a hand on each other’s shoulders in greeting. Surveying the tables, I see everyone already has food, mostly cheeseburgers. This makes me realize that I’m pretty hungry. I wish I would’ve ordered one, thinking that it is probably too late to do so now, that they’re done making them for the evening. Now I am sitting by Nelson and his dad. His dad is combing Nelson’s hair, which looks slightly longer and thinner and almost a translucent, fluorescent white-blond. He’ combing it into almost a Trump-do. Nelson sits placidly. Dan is talking to me about haircuts, but I’m finding it difficult to hear. My responses at times are nonsensical because I can’t hear and don’t want to ask for a repetition. They start leaving, and I follow suit. We leave through what very much looks like a house’s garage (the two getting into a black truck/SUV parked within). Melissa’s car is a few feet to the right, perpendicularly in the street. She’s sitting inside, on her phone. I go up to open window and am going to say something, in a humorous tone, about her moving, but before I can she says she already knows she’s in the street. Dan apparently didn’t think she was in the way, as he’s already backing out, pretty quickly. I ask Melissa if she wants to hang out now or not. She says she doesn’t care and that it’s up to me, to which I say the same exact thing. We end up going home (to Mom’s?).

I am at a house. It seems like I may be staying here for a little while, as in a few nights. Andrea from high school is here too. I’m about to take a shower, and I find out, as she comes over at the same time, that she was about to too. I think there is some discussion, after which I end up taking a quick shower first. I am getting ready to go see a therapist? Mom and Makayla are coming with me, or at least are in the car. I think I’m driving. The landscape is sort of empty and drab. (*The following is not the best recollection, and almost seems like it was from another dream but like it fits with this one too). While talking with the woman therapist, I become angered with the inefficiency of the whole thing and end up beating her. (*This feels very gross to write; in the dream there didn’t seem to be too much emotion behind it, just simple physical contact).

I am inside somewhere - a house maybe or somewhere that feels sort of homey. There is a boy and a girl here, around my age and unfamiliar to me. They are each in a separate room. The rooms are pretty bland; I think each only has a wooden table. (This feels more like I am watching a movie, especially since I switch between observing each room). I watch as, in the boy’s room, a chair is slid away from the table seemingly of its own volition. It startles the guy, and he sort of gasps at the occurrence. To me it all seems kind of campy. Now in the girl’s room, we see her seated with another woman. When we glance back, this woman suddenly has an ugly, ghastly face (very similar to the Nun) that produces a twinge a fear in her and myself. I feel the adrenaline’s warmly numbing sensation move down my body. A few other paranormal and cinematically cliché occurrences ensue.

I am in some building. This building may be more of a house, though it is vast and labyrinthine. I think an Asian woman is showing me around or I keep running into her. At one point, she is introducing me to ‘the author’. He is a fairly unassuming man with brown hair and a full but medium length beard. He is in formal dress, along with the few other men with him. They appear to be golfing at an indoor course (or simulation?) in this room that was right around a corner. I’m under the impression that this ‘author’ has made enough to afford this house. He gives me a curtly respectful nod, and I move along. There are a myriad of rooms and furnishings, blending into the whole layout, often lacking clear demarcations between rooms. There is a large, plush bed in a corner. In it, under the comforter, lies a man and two or more women. I think that’s a high ratio, then I see another man’s head in the small sea of bedding and pillows. I may be in search of a bathroom, or I may just be passing a few. The second one I pass seems narrow and branching off in two directions. I think one side has sinks and the other has toilets or urinals. Either way, it is far too large than is necessary for a house.






I am going into a Sam’s Club with Melissa. We are not members, so I think we’ve snuck in somehow. We gather a few shopping bags worth of goods and proceed to the check out. Instead of paying there, you’re supposed to give your phone number. We give a fake number. We’re given a receipt which is checked by a man on the way out. We give this (Hispanic?) man a different receipt - from a different, real transaction or something. This receipt is from a different location, though, and we had folded it to obscure that, but he ends up seeing it. We’re not sure what to do, but we end up sneaking away when he becomes distracted by something. We stay close to the line of parked cars. I start to run, but Melissa tells me not to, as it’ll be more noticeable. Later, we are somewhere and I am thinking that we’re probably going to get caught. I think we’ve done this before too. I feel remorse and don’t want the repercussions of being caught.