khalv

July 19th, 2010

It's 2:05 AM, and I have gone to bed to sleep.

Its 3:29 AM and I have awoken, my dream not being lucid or controlled, but mostly remembered.

I don't know how I've gotten here, it's somewhere with my friends who I will call Jorge, B, Ricardo and my brother ehalv.

At first we all rush into a white van, which belongs to the "Crips". We discover somehow that crip means "blue". We are all pretty shocked by this for some reason. We hop into the van in a rush. Why we entered the van with no precaution in it being owned by a gang, I don't know. A lingering sense that we we're running away exists. I get in last, already stuffing myself into the car. The first person I see is Ricardo in the front passenger seat. Wether he was there all along or not I don't know. He's asking me if the mosh pit was awesome, and then tells me it was. I shake my head yes. Someone appears to get in the car but we have already begun driving. We're in a hurry. I look behind me, only one kid sits on the left, alone. I notice the kid beside me attempt to hop back to fill the remaining seat and free room in this row. At this time, something out the front window catches my eye and I notice the driver has been distracted. He has veered off course, to his left a little, missing a right hand turn, over a curb and next to a playground. At this point I say "Hell no--AW HELLLL NO! He's on the playground! He missed the turn were on the grass!" and I say a little more, but I can't remember. Everyone laughs at the idea of me saying that in this situation, where I also began in turn giggling. We leave the car at this time, still laughing, someone repeats what I've said. In front of the car to the right is the playground, and several feet ahead of it there are dips, hills petruding in the grass going downward. Almost like giant stairs of grass. The driver says it's okay and that this is where we're supposed to be. I say aloud "It's all good unless the boys come!", or something along the lines. Not seconds later does gunfire erupt behind us. I sense bullets flying past me, as if they were raindrops falling sideways. We hurry to get into the van.

I've woken up.
A flash of a letter written to me on paper or a social networking site says "you used to scare me years ago but ever since i got a ...(taste*) i've wanted another ..." This is all I remember. It is from, who I will call, Rose.

Regret fills my head, as does guilt, for not remembering the rest of the letter, or other important information and other parts of dreams I may have fell into. Although I feel regret, I think it is falsely diagnosed to an event that has never occured before, and in being so, couldn't have affected my social, or in any case, daily life.

The dreams were not vivid. They were more of ideas that grew spontaneously, wildly and with ease, but never seemed to acheive full visual scope. At least, if I'm remembering correctly.

It is 4:06 AM and I return to bed to sleep. In my hand I hold an object. No larger than a chess piece, but considerably heavier.

It is 6:59 AM, I dreamt a little. I find it funny I remember less even though I was asleep for longer.
I hear commotion outside of my bed room. I end up in my breezeway facing outside at the door, I kneel down, I hear people yelling and talking. My friend Justin rides his bike into my backyard, he looks at me and says "I think I got a five", discreetly. He means five dollars. Suddenly they begin talking very loudly and my parents lights turn on, I tell them to keep it down. They panic and Justin hands me a gun. "We found a gun, a real gun, here" he says. I grab it and it feels heavy. Very heavy. I begin to panic as they leave, or dissapear but both are relative. I set it down beside some plants outside and walk back into the breezeway. Through the door in front of me, I see a group gathered. I exit the door back outside, this time into my front yard, and see my oldest brother surrounded by people asking him questions. He seems to have it under moderate control. I ask what it's all about. He says the dog got loose again. Standard procedure. I head inside, my dad is talking to someone about pizza, or food. I end up going downstairs to pee because someone is in the bathroom. A christian man follows me. He needs to pee and pees on the opposite side of the room. I end up not peeing at all and head back upstairs, with a handfull of bacon in my hands.

I'm awoken and the object I had held in my hand before falling asleep is laid side by side next to my phone on my bed. Seemed placed carefully, but I cannot remember doing so.