Oneironautic Escapades

12/1/20

I am at a school lock-in at a large period style manor with my old classmates.
I saw her dressed in an all black victorian style dress walking calmly, standing out in the crowd she is graceful and glancing at me out of the corner of her eye.
We walk by each other, I notice her notice me but I do not acknowledge her as I walk slowly with my hands behind my back. I don't see her again.
I am with a group of guys who look like power lifters wearing singlets. We are all cutting up laughing.
We put wigs on and joke loudly about starting a strip club, girls line up for us to jokingly grind on them while trapy thump music plays in the background.
The joke gets old.

It's time for bed and we're all herded into different rooms. They are large dormitory style rooms only the beds are also large, some have several pillows on them.
I don't see any open beds really so I sleep at the foot of one of the large beds.
They are all kids now, I am unsure if I am also a kid.
Another kid lays down next to me unaware there are pillow positions.
I ask him if he wants the other bed next to us, he says no, I am fine with it and fall asleep anyway.
In the morning time the old nanny-like ladies are waking us up
We are all standing around them as the introductions are happening. There are laminated numbers hanging from the ceiling. I gather we will be here for a few weeks.
The room starts to rotate and I see out the windows a line of coloured small circus style tents outside that the african american boys were sleeping in.
I think I want to sleep outside the next night as the segregation is totally unfair.
I look and most of the boys inside are african american too, I am confused.
The caretaker (who looks like Paterson Joseph) outside tells us while standing on a ladder that this place has history and our water comes from the creek which has had slaves shitting in it for centuries and we should feel lucky to have this history in our water.
We are all sprayed at once to shower and brush our teeth. I continued brushing my teeth after and am scolded by one of the nannies.
The morning chores begin
I am the oldest one so I am unsure what to do and wander around. They are preparing food in the kitchen so I offer to cut stuff up. Everyone is using their hands instead of utensils and all the counters are cutting boards.
He hands me a few slices of pineapple to dice. I take them to a station and grab a knife. The blade has been bent twisted sideways so it is not straight holding the handle. I cut them up anyway.
Walking around more they are spreading new concrete/floor sealer in one of the rooms and a boy is being charged with the activity with two adult guardians.
The older guys tell me they do this every 2 days or so. The kid does a horrible job spreading as the coloured dye on top doesn't swirl right and they bash him for it.
I tell the guys I am massage therapist and kind of the all around guy so I can do many things.
One of them asks me about a rumour he heard about Massage therapists having all the right words to sell their craft but their skill is sometimes lacking. I go in on the topic of there being too many therapists in my state so there are plenty who don't take their practice seriously. He tells me he can tell I am smart one and we should get along just fine.

I am in a cooking competition like master chef. Another stressful one. It is the first challenge and we are tasked with making a dish that describes us, we only have 45 minutes. We can only use the ingredients we brought with us. I wanted to braise some pork but don't have the time. I am standing next to that one bald guy with glasses and neck tattoos. Everyone is far more experienced than I am. He mentions going across the street to get some ingredients and asks if I need anything, I still haven't decided what I will cook and spend most of my time brainstorming. My box is full of frozen meat and reminds me of my deep freeze. No time to dethaw. I end up cooking some small chicken pieces that were marinaded. There is a small garnish station set up so I make a small salad like garnish on the side. I remember I have some rice as well and make a fried spanish rice in a cup form next to my chicken slices on a long plate with the leafy greens on the end. Gordon yells at me for making a salad. This is the worst meal I have made in my entire life. I am ashamed. There are maybe 20 people all at their desks in the competition. A kid who only got one vegetable on his plate ends up going home. I am relieved but still believe I am the worst one here.

Snipers pin down me and some kids at a hilly mountainous home.
Drama drama drama
A mounty looking navy seal guy shows up and I task him with helping us.
He sees the snipers and throws me his huge binoculars.
I hold a 4 wheeler while he starts it on a hill to go to a better vantage point.
He dies a gorey death sliding down a skiing lift cable, gets cut in half and his upper half lands on top of a cooked hog sitting on a picnic table. He screams the whole way.

Things wind down and the house is now a run down hillbilly home with just 2 somewhat disabled people living in it.
I walk down the driveway and they have a vendors tent set up selling only various types of plastic pencils. One of them looks like an ice cream cone and I ask if this is the only edible one.