pokechimp8

With Adam F at the school dance with hot pink lights in pozen, bleachers on both sides, crowded with people at 2am. We're standing and swaying and he's looking at my sketchbook for some reason.
"you can look at it with me if you want" he says. There's an unspoken sense of aggression.
He lowers it down a foot for me, as if I'm really short.
He says something and I respond by saying this is exhausting--the standing, constant shuffling, showing your work and the small talk--but then I hope he doesn't think I'm talking about him specifically. but I don't backtrack, and instead start putting extra effort into my body language to make up for the perceived slight.
I think it's going well.
He is commenting thoughtfully on the pieces and it seems like he might be into art.
and then he points to something and turns the book towards me to show me, and brings his body really close to mine. I thought he had a girlfriend
And looks down and the top of his head brushes mine and I look up and I can smell him and see the beads of sweat on his red hot face in the deep pink colored room
And he comes back and forth in and out, swaying with me a bit aggressively
and he never makes eye contact once while doing this. EVER. In a coy way.
but he knows I am so turned on
and he starts saying really douchey things while he towers over me and practically presses his chest into my face, and my knees are jelly and the smell of his cologne fills my nose and he starts saying really awful things
and there's a page of my art with a female character, and he gets closer and starts spitting and drooling on what I made
and it soaks the page enough to warp it and there is a thick webbed pattern of warm viscous saliva dripping from it into my hand now, and he smiles and stares directly into my eyes for the first time and tells me how he would love to blow a hot load all over her
and I feel my face is white like I'm going to throw up
and he walks away slowly and casually as if I wasn't there and slams the book shut in his hands, then drops it casually
and it hits the floor heavy like the slam of a metal door and makes me jump and curls my lip, and I see the pages crumble in on themselves
and my head feels dizzy and hollow, like it's floating away from my body and I don't want to try to move because I know I'll throw up
but some short girl comes and takes my hand with her soft one
another one asks if I want to call 911 but I say no no no but I'm glad someone else saw and asked, and the first girl leads me gently out of pozen into the warm hallway.
I feel like I was traumatized but I don't know why that did it, maybe because I didn't expect it from him. Or the anxious bad part of me did, but he tricked the good side of me into giving him the benefit of the doubt and lowering my guard.

I'm sitting down under an old dark wooden table in the pozen hallway looking at my crosslegged feet and someone else asks if I'm okay, and I look at the girl who helped me. She's under here with me
She looks like Becca K, with a modest tan jacket on
And for some reason she dissapears and I go back into pozen looking for her.

I was friends with Anna and Haley again, in me and Raph's room at night.
We sat on the weird chairs watching a movie and I was eating a bag of Welch's fruit snacks, and Anna was talking about how gross she recently finds snacking and how her brain can't equate it to eating food. She uses M&Ms as an example. I say I feel the same way about how foreign Necco wafers are--envisioning a brittle pink one softening and snapping under my tongue.

I think about how I'm glad that them breaking off into their own band revived our friendship dynamic and brought things back to how they were in the beginning (only happened in the dream LOL)

For some reason there's an inside joke where a person gets pulled up to heaven like a ragdoll by their foot. We each raise one foot clumsily, trying not to kick over the TV, and there's some song from a movie that we sing.
And they stand up and we break into some sort of stupid dance, and end it raising our hands towards the ceiling and twiddling our hands, and I envision translucent red strips of light and thin golden threads arcing from the tips of our fingers, to the ground like a fountain, and we double upon ourselves and laugh for minutes straight.

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It's a wet, foggy, muggy day.
Dad and I are walking along the fens on the way to Star Market, but the area feels much bigger and sparser. There is a big white van that drives off the path and nearly disappears into a deep puddle, which we know to be from 'It Follows' (?).
He's wearing an article of my clothing (brown pants? fluffy sweater?) and we're laughing and playing hide and seek around the thick trees as we make our way. Then we're walking up a hill towards the brick buildings, with a big concrete wall of a bridge on my right, and I know my hair looks stupid.
We get into downtown and the buildings are narrow and crowded like in fallout 4 - there's a bridge overhead that blocks the sky and drips fat cold drops of rainwater. People are crowded waiting to cross the street, and there's small fogged-up windows to restaurants that seem more like glass phone booths. I peek my head over the small crowd as the bus to Hyannis pulls into place, through a thick puddle.

I was at a sort of boarding school in a big, glitzy European city that reminded me of paris.
My friend was invited to a party Indë was throwing, and I tagged along and everyone was sitting scattered on the floor in a quaint apartment with clocks, radiators, wooden walls, thick velvet curtains, and red carpet.

Later we were on the way to a musical, sitting in a group of seats moving slowly down a gigantic escalator, like a ride. We were going down a giant, lavish tunnel that led off into the mall, its ceiling decked out like an opera house.
Hundreds of tiny lights, giant shiny tassels and chandelier-like constructions, masquerade masks, pearls and more. To our sides were lush foliage and fountains and mall balconies and shop windows. I was sitting in the far back and there was a tall tourist lady sitting in front of me, so I couldn't look down the tunnel, to see where we were going, but I could see into the passing stores as we descended.

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It's a long night, and it got dark very early despite being warm and muggy outside. There's a sense of lethal urgency, as if a serial killer is on the loose.

I'm in the passenger seat while Luke F drives. He's driving with urgency, on the long roads surrounding the deep western-mass pine forests and lakes. Every window is open and our interior light is on. It casts us in dim yellow and leaves a smeared reflection of us in the windshield that dangerously obstructs his view. Since our light is on I can't see out the windows--it's black but the smell of night and the thick roar of insects from the forest, by the sides of the road, pours in from every side.
I have butterflies in my stomach and feel queasy. Every time we slow down I'm reminded that the light is illuminating us in our seats, to everything on these empty roads, and that all of our windows are sitting open.

I desperately need to charge my phone and make some kind of call by 10:30--we get to Uncle Jimmy's house and I hop out of the car loudly and run through the door into the living room, once again dim and yellow. There's the same sense of queasiness and paranoia when I look at the black windows and the front door sitting open. I'm pretty sure I wake up before anything happens.

I had just moved to a big city alone, and there was a big futuristic hospital I wanted to get into.
I followed close behind someone as they swiped their ID, through huge, round, white airlock doors. I wandered around looking for friends, and I reached the far, abandoned end of the hospital.
There was a decrepit, factory-like room that went down a few stories, and had pipes and metal staircases winding downwards. I looked up and there was a giant hole in the wall, facing a sunny bay and the junkyards of the city. I see now that the hospital is barred by a rusty iron fence.

I noticed some alt-looking kids sitting on the steps below and 'accidentally' bumped into them. We struck up a conversation quickly, and one of the cute guys stood up and seemed to like me.
The other guy and girl seemed to feel left out of the conversation though, so when they told me their names I made an extra effort to repeat and remember them. The girl was named Linguisa and became angry, telling me to stop repeating her name because it was ugly (LOL) and she didn't like the 'hui' sound.

Someone panicked and pointed at the hole in the wall, and one of the behemoth ships across the city at the bay was slowly turning, as if it were looking at us. We could hear the metal groaning across the city. We realized the government knew we had snuck into this hospital. Next came an action sequence that began with us struggling through a porthole back to the main area of the hospital, and rushing through doors that unsuspecting employees had keyed into.

It was a hot summer day after school, and I wandered the messy, junky but sunny and inviting halls of abandoned radio labs and long blue rooms of waist-high library shelves and children's foam puzzle mats.

The long room turned into an open, sun-baked park behind the school (repurposed into a football field), bordered by a short stone wall perimeter and surrounded by a Mission Hill-like neighborhood. I was pushing through a long row of dozens of tangled metal easels on the grass, climbing between the bars. Nori, David and someone else were standing on the field behind me, yelling advice on how to get through.

After I got through by pushing a particularly loud one out of the way, an old white couple came out of their woody victorian house past the stone wall, to berate us and threaten to call the cops.
We all run but I part to the right, down a sunny street facing the woods. And I turn right again, and my old dorm is there--except if you took the samoset ave house and narrowed it into smith hall's shape.

I continue and head down a hill towards a main street and back towards the school, between some brewery-looking buildings and condominiums. I see the three others far ahead walking down the middle of the road, and the cops are cruising by but don't do anything to us.

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I had a dream that I travelled back to Springfield from across the state, and it was much more inviting, and I got there at dusk after walking calmly down a long hill lined with identical brownstones and raised shops, and it was close to Mardi Gras, so there were beads and lights in the windows.

And between the gaps of the brownstones I saw a long empty train track and junction, parallel to my walk.
I got to our building at the bottom of the hill and it was suddenly a bright calm afternoon, and I looked up at the brick facade to look for our window but the sun was in my eyes. So I pressed my face against the door trying to see into the dark wood stairwell and imagined walking up them and I wanted the creaks and the smell.

(First time I've had a dream about our old apartment where I was actually re-visiting as an adult, and where I knew dad was gone and that I didn't live there anymore).

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(Snippet)
Some sort of prom/end-of-the-year social event in an auditorium-like room, with Janet, going back and forth to the parking lot because we keep forgetting things from the car. Each time we exit, we run excitedly--there is a sunset and around us are acres of marshlands. We spin around and I play a song from my phone speakers. There's some storyline at the actual dance that I forgot.

With Mik, staying up til 6am in a dorm bed that is at the end of a subway platform, watching ghost shows.

There is a lamp and rug and end table, as if the furniture from the room had been magically placed in a subway. He says we've watched eight episodes and I realize each episode is an hour and that it's already 6am, and we burst out laughing.
He lets me grab all my blankets. I forget which are mine, and head up the short subway staircase with them trailing on the dirty floor--it's a weird juxtaposition. The stairs lead into a maze of hallways that are a cross between the Smith Hall back stairs and the tight upper hallways of WHS where I took my exam.

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Walking from Treehouse towards H. Ave on a warm night, and campus is bustling.
There's Wentworth bros racing each other in scooters that keep whizzing dangerously past me, but in this dream it feels like there's weights inside my legs and I can't jump out of the way.
I reach the corner across the street from Target, and I'm with Joe and a bunch of his male friends.
We hear a crunch SKRRT behind us and turn to see giant brown toenails rolling to a stop on the ground, with smoke rising from them. A bro went over the curb so hard that he shredded the toenails off his feet like a Looney Tunes character.
The walk sign goes on and we cross the street towards Target. It has become a convention center and we walk up a short wide staircase into the main room as I start talking to him about the band Slint.

Had a false awakening where I typed half of this already into my phone's notepad

I'm walking in A at night, on a corner with brownstones and a warm, floursecent lit convenience store on the corner that lights up the street.
I see anna and haley on my walk and go the other way pretending not to see them. But we cross paths again and I embrace it and we chat.
Everyone seems very nonchalant, especially haley, as if it was no surprise to see me. Anna is loud and bubbly. She turns into melina as we reach a crosswalk, turns around from the front and laughs, and asks if we all live in allston. Haley says no.

Haley talks about a place they were, and I see a sort of mini theatre/puppet show gypsy house that opens to a tiny cutesy wooden dock, along a line of docks that each belong to a business on this 'strip'. There are some slip'n'slides leading out of the building to the end of the dock.

We say goodbye as I get out of an elevator and into the DS9 studio. I felt hurt by how nonchalant and unsurprised they were to see me after over a year, I wanted to shock them with how quickly and silently I left the conversation and make them feel bad.

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I get to the first class of the day and everyone is cartoony, yet still with realistic hair. There's an activity where we hold our reflective flip phones up to people at other desks, and draw those reflections.
The room is quiet and dim and subdued but in a cozy way, because it's too early for us to be rowdy.

A pale girl with wire-frames and long blonde hair and a few marks for a face plops down next to me. There's a sort of black bow on her head, but it flutters off and I see it's a huge, thin, elegant black moth--each wing like a glass fan.
It sits with the potted plants on the row of science-room windowsills.
It's 6:00am, dewy, blue and silent and foggy outside. The fog carries to us the smell of flowers from under the dim blanket of morning.

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Dreamt that michael told me rent was now $150 LOL

Wake up with ra ra ra part of "Moondance" by Van Morrison stuck in my head

I "wake up" as I see flashing lights under my eyelids. Raph's phone light is flickering. I get up and pull it away from his foot and give it him, as it accidentally starts playing some techno music and he scrambles to shut it off. Soon I seem to be in my own bed again, so tired and still that I cant imagine having just leapt out of the bed. I ask, not considering if he's asleep whether I dreamt getting up and he says no, seeming a little irritated. I'm not sure what to believe.

Later there's a pounding/pressure on the door that seems to imply we have not paid our bills completely and someone is coming in to kill us. They call it the Connecticut apartment genocide. I'm indignant.
It's covered by a news show and a mousey woman with a big forehead and shoulder-length blonde hair stifles laughter as she tells us about the latest victim, A middle aged man. The camera swoops to a disappointed male colleague next to her who begins to go off. Someone's head is blocking the bottom half of the frame.

Soon I'm watching clips of survivor (including Janelle from Big Brother 7 jumping off a tall rowboat and paddling away in an escape boat into a glimmering dawn) and then reading about how there's been nationwide controversy over things the tribes have said to each other.
Then I'm reading a Reddit AMA for one of the contestants but it becomes unclear whether it's her speaking, or a bot she programmed to speak about her survivor experience. I don't have enough context to know.

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An earlier dream starts with me (female teen) and my little sister having just run away from home to a large tropical desert. We're in the outskirts by the fences, looking for an opening or a gate to go through.
It's pitch black out and we're navigating using a flashlight.
I stare in wonder as the giant palm leaves cast long black shadows along the desert floor and perimeter fence. My sister comments this is my photographic wet dream. We notice someone close behind us in the bushes in a yellow shirt.

The camera changes to an isometric view from above, and it becomes a sort of Sims game. My sister runs off to a house and I stay in the desert. I attempt to delete the man (now joined by a group of his friends) and type in some cheat codes to teleport somewhere else but to my surprise I am brutally murdered with an axe whack to the neck. I watch myself drop into a growing pool of blood.

I was at a bigger version of the Longwood T stop, and it was bright and sunny out. I saw a 90-year old man standing across on the opposite platform with a baby in a rocker seat, by his foot. He looked like he used to be a professor but can hardly stand and looked like he should be in a nursing home, not taking care of a baby.
Its rocker seat was very close to the edge of the tracks. I yelled, or did something that somehow pushed the seat away from the edge. But it rolled back on its axis and fell onto the tracks, and no one seemed to notice for a moment, not even the man.

The train pulled over the crest of the hill silently and without warning, and a few men moved to jump onto the tracks but the baby got run over and we heard the crunching of plastic and metal. We all had to board a bus--the old man got onboard without any punishments and got the stink eye from everyone but that seemed to be it?

.....

The dream evolved into me taking the bus up to a town at the end of a peninsula, maybe H.
Dad told me I was only supposed to be here to pick up something. The sky is rumbling and gray and for some reason hurts my eyes to look at, as I ride past a lodging place. I get to the tip of town and see mini cafes, and warehouses and shallow, rocky blocks of beach.

I stay the night, and I'm running freely down a long path with the ocean below on my left, and a dark strip of park to my right lit up by streetlamps. I almost run off the edge of the path, which stops suddenly and drops 3 stories into a basketball court carved as a square block into the big hill. I clutch my chest and inch down the hill on the side.
I reach a kind of bench rest area as the bay on my left begins to open into a beach, and I can hear the ocean but it's a black void. There's some teenagers a few years younger than me that am still intimidated by.

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Dad and I move to H, and there is a long window facing the length of the sun-baked driveway. Shady looking people are selling hard drugs there, and we need to close the blinds so they don't think we are going to snitch on them. Dad is laying back in a chair, and I have to repeat this to him slowly, like he is senile. His mouth is falling open.

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With Una, abroad in Germany outside a cloudy brick subway station carved out of the ground like in Harvard square, but it's shaped like a WWI trench. They are going to build a house for their family to live in. They recommend to our friend that she pull up her jeans to show off her knee high red boots.

I dreamt Alice made a giant beautiful watercolor piece on huge paper and I had to bring it from the classroom up to her DS9 desk.
I clumsily pick it up on front of the entire classroom and can barely get it out of the room without bending creases in it and walking into walls.
I'm super ashamed and embarrassed but I don't know if people are noticing because I'm purposely not looking at them.

I make it up to her desk and Victoria is there, and we have a good conversation.

She asks me about how my five years of probation is going (!?) and I say fine, and begin loudly telling her that it was bullshit and I was caught being a middleman but there are some school officers and faculty walking by the aisle of desks and I can see them giving me suspicious looks, so I stop unnaturally in the middle of my sentence and talk about something else.

I don't think Victoria sees the officers so she probably thinks I am out of it. I look at Alice's drawing and notice a huge tear at the bottom and creases in multiple other places.

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I'm walking down the sidewalk by Evan's way, the one parallel to the fens. It's a warm, cloudy, blustery afternoon that is about to break into a thunderstorm and the sky is darkening.
John and Irena are walking ahead, and a giant human-sized palm leaf gets caught on one of the small trees to our left. I'm walking that direction anyway, and Irena grabs it and hoops it around my head jokingly, like a mother. I grab each end and dance with it, and use it as a sail to carry me down the dirt path.
Irena laughs to John as I get dragged further away and they wave goodbye.

There's a group of practicing BU cheerleaders dressed in shimmery gold, forming a pyramid under one of the big shady trees. As I blow by I do pull the leaf under my legs and do some cool somersaults.
I turn into Daria H. and Irena mentions how multitalented I am as I continue somersaulting across the street towards the Gardner museum, but remember to stop as a truck chugs slowly out from behind a car.

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I'm on a balcony at Target, overlooking the long escalator crowded with people. I see a glimpse of Mrs. Bello and Joaquin, and I rush to the ground floor and see they're carrying home a newly purchased TV!
This isn't the first time I've run into them at Target, and we catch up.

And then I'm at their house--it's one of the large, simple ones from the colonial era made from blank, mossy dark wood and with no embellishments. The roof is giant and dominates the house's silhouette--on the right side its slope continues downward, to the ground. And the house is under a thick blanket of damp-smelling autumn trees, at the very back of an empty, grassy lot. It looks like it was plopped there in the Sims.

I approach the ramp and see under it, see that the inside of the house is shelled out and charred black, so it looks like an empty dollhouse.

The sound of a slow car rolls into the street behind me, with a woman in the passenger seat. My vision is a little blurry, but from way here in the back of the lot it looks like she has the white eyes of a lizard--I know because she's leaning far out of the passenger seat, staring at me with her head following me mechanically like a pivot as the car moves.

I chase after her yellow car on my bike, fiercely curious, until the car disappears into an alley. That curiosity turns into fear as the car begins chasing me, and begins an action sequence of me whipping around tight corners and fences. I eventually reach the bottom of a highway overpass that reminds me of the one in springfield.

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(fragments I jotted half asleep and don't remember well enough to write out in full)

Elliot Smith Bled white city ending credits overtaken by animated characters like before
The flowers pouring out of the plane represent their loved ones let them be

Visit dark sea st weymouth studio daylight under cheap blinds
find clothes rushing scary feel presence end on summer train platform

Last minute bart simpson seaside diner at night, me and drug addict have to watch babies
finish some task tonight and it is very high stakes, takes place in sims 3 sunset valley beach

There was a sudden apartment move where I was kicked out (cant even remember why). I moved to a big, depressing beige room with stained carpet and a TV and a sofa pushed up against the wall where I'm pretty sure I slept. It's in a trashy high rise somewhere like east Boston, with warehouses and docks and dense housing and the brown Charles river.

I discover a weird staircase in the kitchen, curving around toward the ceiling. It's small and begins above the counter--like it was made for mice--and I have to crawl up it on all fours. I look up and see that there's no ceiling here.
It's under a sort of overpass in Fenway park, the big green metal scaffolding structures that hang over the parts of the stadium and cast everything in dark shade. It's so close it almost dips into the room.
I reach the top of the tiny staircase to peer over the apartment's wall, and there is a small metal 'balcony' around the perimeter--so close to this 'overpass' I can't stand up fully.
When I peer down there's a narrow shaded street with a gift shop where tourists flock. The gift shop also reaches up to the overpass, so the street feels like a tall, shady tunnel where the sunlight and traffic sounds flood in from both open sides.

Instead of having a railing this 'balcony' has weird pointless windows a couple feet high, not high enough to touch the overpass, and balancing on the edge. I could just step over them if I wanted to, but of course they're substitutes for railings so I'd plummet to my death. They're caked with dust and can be cranked open with an old-school handle.

When I look forward through the gaps of this huge green ceiling, I can hear the roar of the baseball game and see a sliver of the crowd and green field. I can almost make out the scoreboard.

I get paranoid for some reason, and feel like the tourists below can see me up in the scaffolding, peeking over the ceiling of my apartment at them. My phone buzzes with a message and in my paranoia I duck down--what if it's from some serial killer across the way who sees me?

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I see a courtyard. I went to antonio bates' b-day party here as a kid, and there had been a weird building this was it!! With its mini inner courtyard and cheap pools
It was tall mini water park under a stormy sky with cold slides and hanging playground bridges I see it from above cold wet aqua

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Woke up in uncle Jimmy's basement and immediately knew it was a dream, but was shocked by how clear it all was. I got up and slowly looked around and soaked in every detail. Beautiful late morning sunlight shone into every part of the basement, more than physically possible.
I think I tried laying on the bed and feeling weight, and closing my eyes to see if they'd reopen to Boston. And somehow I knew where I was really sleeping and could envision my real room, which normally doesn't happen.

Every part of the basement felt real until I got to James' room, and saw that there was a flight of quaint wooden stairs going down into a cluttered sub-basement, with complex embroidered railings and rugs. I wanted the dream to stay stable, so I went upstairs instead.

Dad was in the kitchen upstairs making some breakfast. I must not have been lucid anymore, or else I'd have burst into tears. A serious construction friend was there, and a girl sitting over where the TV would be. I lean across and ask her her her name that I have forgotten before. She was friends with another girl, a supposed member of my family, that died recently.

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I have to get to the food pantry across the dark city--Raph and Nell are there. I'm with some old man in his red bathroom as he tells me something important for my journey.
His apartment is small and warm and has a cheap round wooden dining room table pressed against a window, one that faces Evan's way except it is a long stretch of pitch, pitch blackness.

Something happens because there are predators out there in the alleys and sewers. The park is an acre-wide flat empty square of grass, surrounded on four far sides by these buildings.
They are the only light source--the edges of the park are visible but it's too huge for their light to reach the center and it is a gradual pit of darkness. I believe they get me when they see me in the middle of the open space and rush towards me from the alleys looking in. I have to try multiple times.

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On the green line in the same dark city except a class is happening with all the adults and teenagers and strangers on the train and they're going around, having people recite something in response to certain questions.
I'm not sure what's going on and am listening close over the roar of the train, trying to figure it out before I am called on.

Bowlingotter is there, Lissy over in front of me to my right, Matty above on the seats one staircase up behind me.
I smile at her laughing and I wonder if he knows I have a tiny crush on her. The train is warm and the windows are black leaving only our reflections and tiny colorful lightspots from the traffic outside. I feel nice surrounded by all these people.

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At the Weymouth house I enter the kitchen and the dining table is in the center, and aunt carol and a random girl are sitting there. It seems like an early spring day--the back door is open and cold white overcast light pours in.

I am trying to dispose of a bag I have and aunt carol is being very finicky about it, going to get a separate bag to put it in and asking me to rip it up first.
I go to my room and am trying to figure something out about joining Suzanne's zoom class on my phone, which had begun on the train. I wander around and look out the windows at an empty smart food bag tumbling through the yard and, and it's dim blue inside because no lights are on and the house seems cold and quiet and empty and it gives me a weight in my stomach.

In Uncle Jimmy's backseat, with everyone else in the front. We're apparently going to Houston or just to the end of the Hull Peninsula. We're almost there, on that long road by the where the apartment island is. Except to our left the water is a giant canyoned basin, filled with impossibly clear turquoise water, at its bottom beautiful thick, dark, ornate yellow sand.

We wonder why the water is so tropical looking. I speculate that the Pacific ocean usually pushes in the dark bacteria from the deep sea into these small-town basins--maybe it's receded.

The apartment bridge is there, but it's wooden. And there is a tall, strange cactus-like tree sprouting into view. It's entirely unnatural and looks like a poor, undefined rendition of foliage you might find in RCT3, along with color of the water.

I notice sprouting out of the edges of the basin are more low-poly tropical trees. Their roots sprawl "underwater", looking like a maze that belongs deep in the soil but is unhidden by this artificial water. They clip into the sand in places.
Some of them seem to get uprooted by the wind, releasing clouds of the deep ocean "blue bacteria" I'd mentioned. I was right!
They float momentarily and pool at the bottom of the sand.

We're transitioning to a big bridge, and I confirm that the ocean is only opaque because of the billion clouds of microbacteria.
I tell Matt in the front seat that you can scrape your fingers along the basin and get a thick nailful, and they all laugh.
They say something about the roads down in the basin and I say that's the least of their worries. They all laugh again.

Now we're on a stormy, twisting, elevated highway, the kind that forks and loops and overlaps itself on stories-high concrete pillars as it takes you into the deep city. The rain is pouring dangerously, so thickly that the afternoon is almost night.
We are dressed like we're going swimming, sitting shirtless and in swim trunks and towels, and it feels completely unfitting for this situation. I feel vulnerable.
The rain pours harder and some of the windows are open, and there is a sense of doom and a fear of heights kicks in, like we are going to crash and swerve off the highway to the land below.
I'm the one in a towel. I imagine myself washed up on the road.

But soon we're on a much safer wooden bridge, surrouded by lush, sun-baked golden evening fields. Like the one the train in Harry Potter drives through. Uncle Jimmy is not looking at the road, keeps JUST making the turns. Soon we are weaving around the bridge--what if the cops chased us? And there is a tiny, toy-like cop car behind us. I then realize we're also toy-like, and we swing off the bridge and I realize this is Uncle Jimmy's dream, otherwise we'd surely be dead.
We are probably still on the bridge but the "8pm segment" of the dream is here, when Yncle Jimmy goes into deep REM sleep and we can play his dream ourselves and take control of the car.

There is a GTA 5 character named "sean" (Michael) who has a similar mechanic. There is a YouTube compilation of his driving dream segments.

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In Boston, standing on the sidewalk under the 'overpass' entrance of a big tower in the financial district. It feels like a cross between a museum and the DMC. I'm apparently visiting uncle Jimmy with a friendly older "grandpa/uncle" figure but didn't think I would actually have to spend the night. I wanna avoid it and just stay at the beach.
Dream logic says I'm pretty close to Hyannis, and throughout the dream I refer to my map as I walk through Boston anxiously, around the outskirts where the highways merge down to street level and there are caged elevated walkways to the train stops and grassy lots under high, shadowy overpasses. It's dusk but the clouds overhead are dark and stormy, resulting in a strange humid dimness where none of the streetlights have timed on yet, but should have hours ago.

Hyannis ends up being easy closer than I thought and soon I am on a little bus (like the hull shuttle) looking at the sunny sky and impossibly bright aqua water. We reach a road that winds around the outskirts of town-- a bushy, grassy hill on the inside corner we pass and the sand and water on the outside. I ask him to stop and he does, and I get out and the waves and sand reach right up to the road--I take my shoes off before stepping off the bus directly into the water, and the hot sun raises goosebumps on my skin.

I'm now a blonde girl named Mary and there is a group of mermaids further down, by a dingy brown roadside telephone pole that protrudes directly out of the crystal water and sand.

Some creepy dudes pull up in a van and slow down to match my pace as I walk barefoot through the waves and sand along the road. He leans out of the window and repeats something that I can't hear over the loud hum of the van. The smell of the exhaust follows me. I dig into my acting chops to yell at them and act crazy and psychotic, widen my eyes and chitter my jaw and smile like I am going to kill them, and reach my spamming hands behind my back like I am grabbing something, and they speed away.

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With Laura and Damon and a badass Asian cyber-tech girl on an elevated highway at sunset after a long day, on our way back to school, back to traverse town. We're gonna break in somewhere in a couple hours, we poke at the idea with bubbling excitement, we quietly dare the others to make the suggestion first. I see us in a comic book panel--the highlight of the girl's black hair is a fiery jagged strip, dithered as if from a PC-98 game.

We're in our backyard at traverse town. The house is small and made of smooth, wonky rounded stone, like something from Whoville. The yard is small and round and walled in with a high fence of the same rounded material. It's very cozy though. It looks like a place where you'd have outdoor dinner parties, with a fire pit and warm string lights, baubles, decorations, and the spots of color from the neighbor's fruit tree that springs up and pokes over our stone wall. I can tell that these houses and yards are in a tight cluster, high up on a hill overlooking the town and the ocean (a la Greece?)

When I go down into traverse town it's daytime, and I fight enemies in a big open space with a pink checkered marble floor, bordered by rose bushes and bright fountains and railings, like a palace courtyard. I wish the camera depth of field would revert to hoe it was in Kingdom Hearts 1.

I'm a child, and I'm going to a large city park with a group of friends and oir parents. There's a big playground and grassy field, all near the city library. A comfortable place overall.
We eventually start playing games like tag and manhunt, and begin to split up. Before I know it, I'm in this grassy area with small, dilapidated houses, shipping containers and toppled buses acting as shelters and tunnels. Most of them are charred black, and there's lots of splintered wood and corrugated metal. It feels like a shantytown, but it still seems to be in the park and viewed as safe.
I'm playing alone and trying to avoid the others, but I feel an overwhelming sense of hostility and paranoia growing in the air, and become more fearful as I engage in the activities children do.
I'm entering the houses and containers, and at a couple points I see candy lying around and take it. I can feel the other children looking for me as I do this, but they've grown into something more... sinister.
At one point I have to crawl through a small, dark tin tunnel with a dog that alternates between whimpering and growling at something behind us, in the house. I crawl to the end toward the house's exit and hug the dog, but I'm pretty sure it gets caught by whatever is hunting us.
The dream now has a Silent Hill vibe. I'm not sure if it's still a game. I somehow find out how the other kids have been dying. They get their heads ripped off and replaced with a baby doll's head, or their head gets put on an animal or another person. Then they become sinister.
I grow increasingly terrified, and though I can't find anyone, I know that I'm surrounded by pieces of their corpses.
The playground is now empty, cloudy and plagued by weeds. I find two adults and we go back to the houses and tins as they demand to know who caused all this chaos, as if they think we're still kids. We wander to a dead end and there are dark, open windows all around us. I'm waiting for someone to reach out from one and grab them, dragging them into the window. I'm not sure if it happens.

The last part of the dream show the Scooby Doo gang from the original cartoons, standing and making plans to investigate that area. The sound is fuzzy, as if I'm watching them on an old TV. It seems like a normal episode, happy like it seemed with me, but it will definitely become dark and depressing.
The title tune--the one that plays when they display the name of the episode--is playing fuzzily in the background, and I know they're going to die.