rshort1202

I’m in some house with Melissa. The master bedroom is right off of the living room, and there’s a walk-in bathroom with a walk-in shower right off the bedroom. I’m up and getting ready. I think I thought it was late, but now I see that it’s actually much earlier than I’d usually be ready, at 6:45 am. The shower is brown stone with an inlaid ledge or two that we’ve put plants on to a really nice effect. One looks like a pothos; I inspect it and am distressed to find a couple leaves fall off at just my touch. The rest of it still seems healthy though. Another of the plants looks like a succulent, and I wonder how it’s going to do with the humidity. Out in the living room now, Melissa and I both see something move of its own accord? In a window, I see the reflection of a small, gaunt looking girl that’s not really in the room with us. We confirm that we both saw the same thing and I believe that this place is indeed haunted.

I’m on what seems to be a trip with my coworkers. The building we’re in doesn’t seem like a hotel, but more like a hostel or large house. I am going to have to share a bed with Jessica and Brad, not by choice, but by design. Right now, it feels late and like I can’t sleep. I start walking around and notice a faint glow to the lighting, like it might be very early morning. I decide to just take a shower and get ready for the day, thinking about how the shower situation will probably be backed up. (This next part may be part of the same dream, or a different one). I’m looking for a place to take a shower and end up in what looks like a very plain theater (stone walls and steps and no adornments). Some lady tells me there are showers up at the top and I’ll just have to use it in front of everyone and that we’ll become close if we already aren’t. I picture myself naked, showering up there.

I am in Germany with Mom and Makayla. The first place we go to is a small, unassuming office building. Inside, it looks more like a home that has been converted to an office space. It is a perfect blend of the two. For a short period of time, Makayla and I can’t find Mom. At one point, I see her with a glass of non-alcoholic beer with a few sips missing. Part of me thinks ‘Already?’ There are two German ladies here. They are short and squat, older and very friendly. They speak English with a faint German accent. They work here but do not come off as an ‘employee’, eradicating any ‘us vs. them’ and promoting a genuine sense of helpfulness. The music that is playing here is odd and definitely nothing I’ve ever heard in any office building. It’s fairly loud, a slow and melancholy beat with droning female vocals. Through a window, I see that it is overcast out. One of the ladies says they should do something when it lightens up, gesturing as if she’s parting clouds. Now, I am outside with a different lady. We are sitting on a rocky shore against what must be the ocean. As I sit and observe the scenery and feel the perfect temperature, I am overcome with both grief and something close to euphoria, knowing that this is where I belong and that I’ll have to leave. I think I almost start tearing up. The scenery is rocky, but of soft soil and greenery where it is not. The ocean is calm and dampens the temperature to what I would call perfect. I talk to this lady as a small, wooden pallet drifts this way. There are a few seagulls on it that seem to be steering it. It becomes overcast. I think part of me is aware that Germany is not an island. The lady is showing me a map, pointing us out (a clear island), and showing how close we are to the very southern end of the ‘Hawaiian archipelago.’ There is a succession of maybe ten or so tiny islands to the North until I see the familiar cluster of Hawaiian islands. The rest of the map looks like a bunch of green islands close together on the deep blue of the ocean. She is now showing me where I’ll be staying. The house is two stories, wooden, and facing the ocean. It looks like the entire second story has a deck; we’re walking on it now. We see into one of the rooms, and she is nonchalant, but I’m not sure I like what I see. Looking down into the plain room, I see what looks like a dog bed. On it is a dog collar and some rod-like object. The unsettling part is that I think this is for a human )a captive?). Along the wall to the left there is an open cabinet. Attached to its door are about three black sheathes with different knives. I am disturbed because I thought Germany would be completely pleasant and not at all like this.




I’m outside somewhere that looks similar to Midtown, but I think more residential. From a third person perspective I am watching Donald Trump and his advisor jogging. It seems his ‘advisor’ is trying to keep up with him. Now, I am jogging with them. His pace is fast, and I think of his old age. We turn a corner and head down a straight away. For some reason I imagine someone attempting assassination and how it’d be easy right here; I don’t think he currently has any protection. Now, I am home (the house seems unfamiliar) and I hear some activity in the doorway. There’s a member of the press just inside the door, interacting with someone just out of sight outside the door. He steps into view - it’s Donald Trump. I think I’m naked and/or don’t want him to see me yet, so I hop into the ‘shower’, which is actually the refrigerator. I shut the door and just barely fit in here - I think door’s actually still open just a bit. Pressed up against the sides of this ‘fridge’ with nothing but me in it, I don’t recall my ‘shower’ being this small. I turn the water on and it comes out cold.




I must be performing auto fellatio. I am alone in an almost pitch black
space, feeling the sensations of both giving and receiving oral. It is slow and passionate.




I’m in a store with Mom. she points out a case of beer - it’s all of the World Beer Cup gold winners. The white case is probably almost as long as me and I think $15. Though I know it would be a good choice, I just don’t really want to get it.

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.

I’m at a Target, where I have a new AP job. I’m on the second floor, in a hallway with all of the general offices. The walls are lime green and white, and everything seems clean and orderly. Mairin walks me into one of the rooms and introduces me to the AP manager. He seems rather unaffected by us entering but warmly shakes my hand. Though he definitely says it, I miss his name. He looks like an average, middle aged white man, wearing faded denim jeans, some outdoorsy/sports shirt, and a ball cap. His mostly white beard is trimmed fairly close to his face. He stands by a tall shelf of tools and assembles what I think is going to be a table. He screws pieces into one another to form what must be the leg. They are small, so I think the table will be as well. (The leg is maybe the size of his forearm). I notice two instruction sheets lying at his feet. Mairin doesn’t seem to mind that he’s doing this as we talk. I imagine how this will correlate to the work environment. To me, he both does and does not look like typical AP.




I seem to have just finished up with something and am getting into my car that’s parked on the street. It is towards the end of sunset and growing dark out. I don’t think that it’s all that late and think about how the days are getting shorter. I think I’m fine with it, that this is a reasonable time for sunset. I begin driving now and am going to go to Kelli's house. I miss the street I should’ve taken and think I’ll just keep going and figure it out as I go. I then take my phone out for the map and text her, asking for the address. I continue driving straight on this fairly small city street and then slow to let some people cross the street. They are coming out of a door to my left that is only a few feet from the street. The first one glares at me as he crosses as if I wasn’t going to stop in time for him. There are around five people total crossing, and I notice that they’re all Black and all look disgruntled. There’s then a gap, which I take. One more starts to come out to cross, but I’m already going. He stops and waves at me, unbothered. I’m texting Kelli about something else now and see that she hasn’t responded yet.




I’m in a fairly large, brown shower stall. There are a few of these, in a line. A few others are occupied, all with guys. Everyone seems genuinely friendly with each other. I’m drying off and getting dressed. I think this room of shower stalls is at my work (the Target from the first dream?) and I leave some things in the stall because I know I’ll be back. I leave now, but I’m not sure if it’s to go home or not. There is a sense of us living here? I think I initially walk out unclothed and then come back.

I am walking through what looks like Dad’s neighborhood (maybe on one of the higher streets, like Virginia Foothills). I run into Kat and she ends up walking with me. It is near sunset and some of the lower and plumper clouds are getting some color. The rest are smaller and almost evenly spaced, bright white against the blue. I look directly up and notice a glowing sliver of the moon. It’s all very pretty. Kat mentions the sky too, saying she’s grateful for Emma for getting her to pay more attention to it, and that she wants to see it more often. I take some pictures of it as we walk. We end up at her house. I think the garage door is open, and I can tell by the way she’s talking that she has intentions to leave now. Before she does, I somewhat bluntly mention how I want to stop drinking. This seems to pique her interest, and she talks to me about it. I tell her I feel like quitting altogether but am not sure if I should stick with moderation. She pulls a little red champagne flute from somewhere and hands it to me, saying I could use it for moderation. I look at it and its almost grimy looking opaque sides, imagining how it might hold a small serving. I kind of like the idea and think I might take it, but then change my mind. I say that I want it to be a mindset thing and not something like this. Now, Chelsea has shown up, I think in a car. She stands behind us and when she sees me she recognizes me but thinks I’m someone else. I tell her no and think it slightly odd that she wouldn’t remember me. I am now walking back, now either on a dirt road or a road surrounded by dirt and small hills. There’s a small stream of water running down this slope, through the soil and grasses. I follow it and see where it meets another stream on an opposing slope, turning to one and running downwards. I look out to my left and notice a hill where water appears to be coming from. There’s a tiny canyon carved into the soft looking dark brown soil, and I imagine walking through it. I am walking right by where the streams meet, doing okay with stepping on the sturdier patches of soil and grasses. Most of it is still soft and it’s hard to tell what will give, so I end up getting both of my shoes wet and muddy. I end up back home, rinsing and scrubbing them. I put them out to dry even though it’s pretty overcast.




I’ve gotten an email from the new girl at work (it’s not actually the girl who is supposed to start. I think I see a profile picture on the email or something and it’s an unfamiliar heavyset white girl). She’s asking about me not being there for a shift, but I’m pretty sure I haven’t been scheduled. I think I’ve been using time off. She sounds more like a manager than a coworker and kind of annoying. After the text there are a few pictures of a hotel room - I think it must be a work thing. The hotel seems nice and also very familiar. I think I must have stayed there before. I think it looks more impressive than it actually is. A picture of the shower shows the floor of small, dark pebbles and the opposing stainless steel shower heads. Now, I am in the hotel. It looks like someone had just been here but tidied a bit before leaving, so I guess I just missed her. There’s a full looking black garbage bag in the abnormally large space adjacent to the toilet. The toilet itself actually has a garbage bag around it, somehow from the ground up. I adjust the opening of the bag so as to be able to use the toilet.




I am somewhere with the family. We’re in a plain, rectangular building that is for something like customs or passports or photos (something that we have to do together as a family). I notice quite a few other families here too, I think seated at tables. Whatever we’re doing here, the personale is being very aggressive with us. They are making us do tasks or challenges that seemed to be designed to result only in failure. A younger guy, I think in a uniform, tries to handcuff me but only gets one finger. He notices, his facial expression betraying his embarrassment, and tries again. The same happens, though he doesn’t notice this time. He tells me to now “clap above your head and find some shade.” I think he also holds me down to ensure failure. Still, I succeed in clapping above my head, slightly satisfied with defying his expectation of failure. I’m not sure about the shade part though. These things go on for a while longer. When we are done, I’m thinking about how I’m going to write to someone about how atrociously we were treated.




From a third person perspective I am seeing a high rise building (a hotel) that stands alone on a sprawling fine sand beach. The building seems somewhat modern and is mostly a tower but with some structural embellishments at the base. It is also way too near the water and, in fact, there is currently water submerging the first few floors. I think there’s something about the occupants just staying inside when it floods, though that seems counter intuitive. Someone is interviewing a lone, blond man maybe in his late 20s. He seems foreign, probably European, though he is speaking more articulately than most native speakers. I think he’s talking about the structural design and why it is flooding.

I am right outside of a house that kind of reminds me of the old house. With me are John Mayer, Phil Lesh, and Mickey Hart. We all (except maybe Mickey?) have instruments and I think comprise a band called ‘the Dead’. I have a guitar that is a caramel brown and seems really smooth. We’re playing the song Cassidy and are in the jam section. I say ‘go deep’ and we all get pretty out there. I hold down all of the strings and tap them in different places to make weird sounds. I think we eventually bring it back to the main theme. Also right inside the house there are a few shower stalls.




I am somewhere outside, I think at Frenchman's, with Timmy and Michelle Wagner. We are sitting by the tailgate of someone’s truck. Timmy is trying to see a movie with me, so I’m trying to find a time that works between me going to class and work. Michelle pulls up a TMCC website on a laptop and enters my classes into a schedule. I realize I could’ve just logged in and shown them that, but think it’s better to just not say anything at this point.

I am in some kind of bathroom or shower room. There are two larger stalls, I think with a toilet and shower head (just on the wall, a drain for the runoff) in each, that are laid out as inverses of each other. There is some girl in the other one. I think that we have been assigned to these at the same time based on us being opposite gender or something to do with our siblings? I am sitting on the toilet in here and can see her showering through the gaps in the stall walls. Her back is facing me, but the side of a breast could still be revealed in a slight turn of her body. I’m more worried about her seeing me though, as I think there’s a mirror in which she could do so. I move my body a bit to where I can no longer see her. Now, I think this girl is gone and Melissa is here in the stall with me. For a moment we were at a double sink counter, me at the left. It felt like we were on a trip and it felt weird to have the left side. I think we’re now holding each other in the shower water and talking. We touch each other.




I am with Dad and Makayla on a sprawling beach of bright ochre sand. I get the notion to run and jump into the water and tell them I’m going to do so. I run, but when I get to the water I am met with a powerful current that renders me incapable of getting any farther. I keep trying but cannot surmount the bombardment of the unceasing tail end of these ocean waves. They are quite long, and I notice how hard they churn the water.

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).