rshort1202

Arriving at a restaurant, I meet Brooke at a booth. The restaurant seems opulent and large, but almost like it’s inside something else, such as a shopping mall. I’m pretty sure Melissa is coming too. The waitress, cousin Renee, comes over quickly for our order. I think I tell her we need some time. Her interactions are hurried. Looking over the somewhat short menu, I decide on the ‘women’s dinner.’ I don’t care what it’s called - it comes with a few things that sound good. I also look over the drink menu - mostly frilly cocktails. When she comes back, we order. I think about asking if there might be a good beer that’s not on the menu, but decide against it, thinking it kind of desperate.




I am in what seems like a highschool, showing up late to a class. Looking through the closed door, I see almost every seat (~20+) occupied. The teacher must notice me, as she tells me to come in. There is a project that’s due and is being presented today. Mine is a picture or sculpture of a dolphin? with drawn white lines on/below it. (*This reminds me of the painted dolphin sculpture I made and had as a kid.) With a lurch of the stomach I realize that I’m missing a large portion of what I need. I think these things are different line weights and an explanation of the typeset (*This is now reminding me of Dance, Dance, Dance and the Dolphin Hotel). I think that gets communicated to her, and she gives me time to do it. *Typing this a few days later, I’m remembering that sculpture as a whale, not a dolphin.




I am in a plane that has just begun its descent into Reno. I notice that we are very close to the ground already; specifically, it looks like we’re above the riverwalk. Quickly, I begin to think we’re far too low for not being anywhere near the runway. This sentiment is apparently shared with the pilot, as, with an ominous mechanical groan, the plane slows and seems to try to begin reversing. At this point it is all but futile. The plane almost comically collides with a ballard and begins spinning. The pilot works to correct the spin, and we then land not too abrasively on the large sidewalk. The ride was enough to set me a little on edge but not enough to terrify me, seeing how close to the ground we already were. At one point, I saw peoples’ shocked expressions as they watched from behind the curtain wall of a taller building. After the plane has settled, we unbuckle and disembark as if this is not too uncommon.

I am in class with Kreg. The room is fairly large and open, with maybe 10 students (no one is wearing a mask - Covid doesn’t seem to exist in this dream). We are making models, I think for a house. I’ve finished mine - before anyone else? and Kreg looks at it. I have a vertical plain façade with a small, perpendicular plain protruding a foot or so over on the left and a sweeping, curvilinear roof. It is honestly somewhat impressive, a sentiment that Kreg shares. I tell him I imagined it going in above the Truckee River near downtown. Now, we are at the site? and this model has been put in/built life size, though looking different. It’s at an angle, and the roof is a different curvilinear shape. There are two bands of color, light and darker blue, and I tell Kreg I like how they’re complimenting the sky behind. It is modern looking.




I am inside somewhere with Sage and her old boyfriend Ryan. He has downloaded an app that makes him weightless and/or able to fly. There is an open threshold to the outside (a small jumble of rocks, I think at the top of the cliff), through which he steps and begins the transition to flying. I watch as for a moment he seems to sink into this other ‘side’ - there’s a slight and slow ripple through his body. He then easily steps off a rock and floats through the air. Sage goes next, with some enthusiasm, jogging to and leaping off the rock. Now she and Ryan are back, and she’s showing me how to get the app. I fill out its small questionnaire, but it returns as declined. Apparently I answered something similar to ‘I am feeling exasperated with life.’ I make a joke concerning suicide and see in Ryan’s eyes that it gets to him. I think that his brother? committed suicide some time ago. I think I was cognizant of this but didn’t think it should stop me from making a joke. I’m now looking at a screen showing who is ‘logged in’ to this other ‘side’. I notice an ‘Rshort” but know it’s Ryan’s brother, as he has the same name.

Mom and Makayla are going to get matching tattoos, and I am going with them. Outside, it is very overcast. There seems to be some dark purple in some of the clouds as well. This place doesn’t look like a tattoo shop; this entrance is on a patio covered by an overhang of a pitched roof. It seems more office or commercial. Inside now, the tattoo they are getting is just a jagged line. I see it on a piece of trace taped to another piece of paper and take out my pocket knife and begin to cut along the line. The trace keeps coming further than the other paper, but I’m really following the line pretty closely. Mom goes first now and grabs my hand as the female artist begins inking. It’s going on her ankle, and me and Makayla say how that is a painful spot (although I think I’m really thinking of the one behind my knee). I’m sitting right by mom, barefoot, with my legs stretched out. It’s like I am feeling the feeling of getting the tattoo too, I guess because I’m so close. I make a face and look at Makayla, a little excited at having this experience after a long time without it. When I look over, Mom is passed out, head back, eyes closed, mouth slightly agape, and I shake her to wake her up. This happens one more time. We ask the artist to call a doctor, but she says she’s not sure if they’re taking anyone due to social distancing. She does fill a glove with water and give it to us. I pour some of it into Mom’s mouth but it just comically and exaggeratedly spurts back up and out. I know that Melissa and her mom are also getting matching tattoos: a lobster with heart shaped scales.




I am in what seems to be an empty high school, on the second level. Julia from work is having me do something; it seems urgent, and I am taking it seriously. Then, she tells me it’s just been a prank, which I agree is pretty funny. I think it has something to do with a book. I end up taking the book home and reading it. It is a YA with a dark green cover and is definitely not something I’d read in real life. I think it’s about a baby or pregnancy. I’m reading it to humorously spite the prank, but it is actually kind of good. For some reason I started a little ways into the book, so now I’m going back to start from the beginning. I am outside on the lawn in the front of Mom’s, and it seems like a really nice summer evening.

I am inside what seems to be a high school. I notice that there aren’t as many people as perhaps there usually would be. There is a somewhat subdued sense of confusion, uncertainty, and unease. We have been waiting a long time for the teacher to show up, and I finally give up. I get up and walk out, calling Mom on my phone. When I ask where she’s at, she says she just got here. She asks if I see her and looking in the hallway through the window I do see her stepping out of the classroom’s doorway. I guess she’s here to teach, but I am already set on leaving. I tell her “I’m so fucking done with this.” She just resolutely says “okay.” I hang up and start walking home. I pass a driveway full of parked cars, some haphazardly, I think one even in the middle of the street. Now I have parked my car at what looks like Dad’s house. An old man walks past me, heading towards the front door. He is extremely hunched over, almost completely folded, and walking quickly with short strides on straight legs. I feel bad for doing so, but I reach for my phone to take a video. Before I can get to it, the man straightens up and starts walking normally. I am now talking with him. He looks like a generic older white man with short, white hair and somewhat bloated features. He also looks different from the man I initially saw. There is also something that is giving me odd vibes about him. Apparently he is one of my teachers, and he says that he’s grading some papers that I know are pretty old by now. He asks if mine is ‘[something] River’ and I say yes, that sounds right, but I also just think that’s the title of the text? I think he is trying to hint that mine is one of the better ones.




I am outside with a small group of unfamiliar others. We’re in what seems to be a huge tunnel with a flat and vast concrete roof. Looking up to it, I ponder its structural stability. I think of what would happen if it were to collapse right now - would any passerby notice, would we die or survive? I think that so long as Melissa is by my side I would be fine.

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.

I am on a walk. I notice someone coming up behind me so I step side to let them pass. I then notice an old couple coming up quickly and wait for them too. I overhear the man tell the woman that it’s time to start their cardio. I think that’s great for them, given their age. I notice how thin his legs are and how thin she is. They pass me on a footbridge that’s probably 30 feet or so long, winding, with some snow left on it. Getting behind them, I say “mind if I try to keep up with you guys? It might be good for me” as they’re starting to jog. I don’t think they mind even though I’m not sure they say anything and I keep following even though I know it’s weird what I just did. We do end up talking about different hiking areas. The man mentions somewhere in Orange County, as if it’s close, and then a spot that actually is nearby. He points when he talks, but I focus more on the woman (maybe because she is closer?). He says ‘hello’ to get my attention and then looks irritated when I look up after it’s already too late. They are both nice and kind of blunt. We’re on a straightaway of an old dirt road among some pines. To my left there is a small field. In the field there is what looks like the trunk of a Baobab tree. It is topped with flags of different countries? that are currently swelling in the breeze. It seems abandoned or otherwise has some creepy element about it. I take a picture to send to Melissa, thinking of Midsommar. For a second I think I probably shouldn’t be this close to this couple with the virus going around. Looking at her, I think it would probably kill her if she got it. They don’t seem to be concerned though. We are now near the top of a hill and I’m not sure I’ve been this far. There is a good view of the city behind us (very similar to the actual view) and there is another hill to the left that I think I have walked down before.




I think I’m in a school or classroom. I have to go to the bathroom and I see that the ‘bathroom’ is two stalls right next to what looks like a teacher’s desk. The one further from the desk looks slightly larger than the other. The whole setup is awkward. I go different times, each time a different scenario of people at the desk and in the stalls or not. I think at one point HR Rosy is at the desk. I line the toilet seat with the thin toilet paper, conscious of everyone being able to hear what I’m doing in here.

I am with Melissa in what seems to be some kind of cave or room with stone walls. It is pretty dim and all that seems to be in here is a grid like stone floor. I think Melissa’s mom is here too, just hanging out in the background. The floor is like a word search, and when you choose a letter you press the grid section down a few inches (and it stays pressed down). While we are doing this, Melissa takes a phone call from the girl scout mom Rebecka. She tells Melissa that her daughter is undergoing surgery and that it’s become critical. This makes me feel worried and uneasy, but I’m not sure what to do.




I am in Iowa and have applied for a college. I am outside, probably on the campus, talking to a thin blond lady who must be staff. I’m asking how long it takes for them to get back to me after I’ve applied. She casually replies that I am supposed to get back to them again. I’m not very impressed with that and think about what it would be like going to school here. I’m sure this isn’t the only one out there and there has to be more I can consider. I think about going through the application process all over again. Later I am messaging Sage about it; she says this is Maynard’s home state, which makes sense except for him leaning a little to the left. (I think there was also something about Dad coming to see me and parking in a metered spot - going over time/getting a ticket?).




I’m with Melissa and we’ve gone to visit Laynie and her baby. I think we’re all sitting on her bed, Laynie up against the headboard. Laynie’s ‘baby’ looks proportionate and maybe toddler age… but is only about six or so inches tall. This seems to strike none of us as odd. The kid boisterously plays around on Laynie as we talk. At one point it falls down face first off her shoulder, almost humorously, as if to get attention. I think I notice bruises on the kid. Laynie doesn’t seem to be paying her much attention.

I have arranged with someone to either sell a drum kit or give them a drum lesson. I think I’m outside of a high school with Melissa and step aside as my phone rings. I look for a good space to set up the drums that’s also far enough away so as to not bother anyone if I play them. I find a little alcove that I think should work well. The drums are also pretty nice, a light cherry wood

I meet up with Scott at what looks like a school foyer. I’m here for the CCW course and it looks like it’ll be just me. He sets up a target and I get the sense that he’s going to be leaving. On the target is a paper, of which we have a whole case of stacks. I ask him a few basic things, including if the target is about 25 feet away. He says yes and then makes his way out, which I still find kind of odd. I fire off a couple rounds with this pistol, impressed with how closely grouped they are. I shoot a little more, hardly, if at all, feeling or hearing the gun

I am back at work after having been gone for a few days. I take the elevator up, noticing that it’s different. There is a different interior of different colored panels and maybe a different floor. One of the small ceiling panels is popped open and there is a ladder left under it. I peer up into the space, right before the elevator settles at the second floor. Walking into reception, I see Princess and Mairin. No one says anything, but we smile at each other as I walk through. I briefly think that Mairin will think I’m already going to the bathroom or break room, but I’m going to the known theft. I don’t see the bin, but there’s a bunch of stuff strewn on the floor. I start consolidating shoe boxes, papers, tags, and a lot of brand new pairs of shoes which I grab by the security lanyard. I don’t get why they keep putting merchandise in here, and I think I really need to start telling everyone not to. I think I put everything in a cart and end up outside with it. Emmanuel is out here and talking to me; he is not exactly annoying, but I feel like I can’t relate all that well to him. For some reason I am transferring the things to another cart? This cart is also up in the back of a truck. I also add two or three sodas (orange and in plastic bottles) to the basket part of the cart. I then lift it out and set it down and push the other, empty cart off towards the concrete base of a light post (there are two other empty carts haphazardly left by it). We walk back now and end up awkwardly close to an old lady with a cane walking the same speed. When we get to the doors, she, for some reason, holds it open for us. I’m thinking now that I’ve got this done I can go back to the office and listen to some music. I consider Pink Floyd and maybe something that’s around an hour and a half so I can maybe listen to a few. Inside, this looks more like a high school hallway. It’s fairly crowded. The associate Jared comes up to me and asks me what to do if he thinks a kid switched shoes. I ask how old, trying to gauge intent. He then sees the kid approaching and nods towards him. He looks to be at least ten. He has his hood up, looks somewhat sketchy, and I think is also carrying his old shoes. I’m honestly not sure if he’s trying them on or trying to switch, but I am distracted by a girl who is clearly trying to walk out with our shoes. She has two huge groups of them, one in each hand, holding them all easily by the security lanyards. She’s wearing a tracksuit, and I think I recognize her from trying to do this before. I turn around and start walking out in front of her. I take my radio and turn the dial where she can see it. I wait outside, for some reason facing away from the doors, but never hear her come out. *As I am waiting, I am woken up by my alarm going off.

I am driving up to what looks like some event outside of a school or something similar when I notice Makayla and Mom walking this way on the sidewalk. My window is down and it seems like a very pleasant day. Makayla is holding an imperial pint glass that looks like it is full of very light Guinness or nitro cold brew. I roll up to her and the first thing I say is “my goodness… my Guinness.” She says it’s actually some flavored iced coffee (hazelnut?). I try a sip and it’s really frothy and not all that bad. I think I already have an iced coffee as well. I realize that I’m in the middle of the road and start moving again. There is one intersecting road to the right where I am going to try to turn around, but I think someone has already gone around me.




I am at work when I notice a sketchy person heading towards the men’s shoes. I think he already has some merchandise and a small, empty looking, black plastic bag. When we see him turn the corner again, the merchandise is gone and the bag looks full. We agree that this makes him good to stop, so I try to get downstairs before he does. I do this pretty easily and get by the door that it looks like he is going for. I try to look inconspicuous, and when I look back I see that Bobby is right by him, talking to him, still in the store. I wonder what he could possibly be doing, until I see him start walking him back. This really irritates me. Back in the office, the guy is hesitant but compliant. He seems homeless. He says his name is Kenneth Cox and that he is 46? I get all the paperwork done before calling PD. I ask his birth date, realizing I’ll need it, and he says something like ‘5 o’clock’. He keeps giving me bullshit answers, and I can’t tell if it’s on purpose or if he’s just not all there. I realize he doesn’t have an ID, so PD’s going to have to come anyway. I think of how they may need video and how Bobby stopped him while he was still in the building, which irritates me more.

I am outside somewhere in what looks like a marsh. The water brilliantly reflects the sky, making it hard to tell how deep it is. It’s also hard to tell what/where the land is, as the plants are lush and thick. I am walking through this, giving in to the inevitability of my feet sinking into the water at some point. I still try to avoid it as much as I can, and at one point I am jumping higher, farther, and slower than is humanly possible. This marshland is really peaceful and beautiful. Now, I’ve ended up on the edge of a forest, traveling inward. It’s gotten darker quicker than I expected, and I feel a brief pang of fear as I don’t have a light or a sense of direction.




I’m in an unfamiliar college building and walk into Mike Holmes’ class (different than his real class), finding it full when I thought it would be over. I see my empty seat at the high desks and take it. Now, I am presenting a model - a plain, rectangular, multi-floor shopping mall. I don't think I've ever actually seen this model until now, and I'm only talking about its simplicity as if it is its biggest asset. He seems to like it.

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.

(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 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?).