rshort1202

I am somewhere that seems to be near Frenchmans. There’s an older, small, wooden building here that I think is a bookstore. I must be working here. An older man comes in, looking for something specific. I don’t think we find it. I retreat into a small office, but he follows. There’s a framed something on the wall and he gets excited at seeing it. I think it’s what he’s looking for because he tries to take it out of the frame. I try to tell him he can’t do that or even be in here. He gives up and leaves. I’m outside now (it definitely looks like Chilcoot) and an older man is asking me “where’s Frenchmans?” “The lake?” I ask. He says yes. I tell him to go right on this road in front of this building and then right on another road. He nods and thanks me, but another older guy with a large, white beard interjects “that’s wrong.” This angers me because I’m certain my directions are right. The directions he offers don’t make any sense. I’m not sure if he’ll listen to me or this other guy.




I’m in some apartment? I think it is late at night or early the next morning when Melissa shows up. I know she’s been out somewhere with Carlos and I think Kestlie. There’s something about Kestlie calling out but changing her story from something about family to something about not being able to get home. Carlos is here and I assume he’s called out too.

I am flying, rising up through the air. There are two others with me (I’m not sure if they’re unfamiliar or if I can’t remember what they are), the three of us in a triangular formation. I notice that we are very close to a huge, impossibly tall pine tree. I also hear the lyrics to ‘Low Spark of High-Heeled Boys’ playing in the background: “If you had just a minute to breathe and they granted you one final wish, would you ask for something like another chance?” This really gets to me; I think about it and listen to my heart, saying ‘yes’. The others do not, and I veer away from them, up and to the right. With some effort and vigor, I rise higher. I notice the ground far below, a patchwork of green and brown. I am falling back down now and land way less forcefully than I expected.

I’m at what I think is work. The area looks like a large garage or warehouse or combination of the two. It’s somewhat dim, though there are two large doors open. I’m sitting in a chair and trying to hide an erection by raising my right leg and resting its ankle on the other leg’s knee and holding a pair of pajama pants as casually as I can over it. I think it may be out of my underwear at one point. Now, Beth (from JCP) walks in and starts talking to me, I think about her car. She looks slightly different than I remember. Now I’m in what must be the store. There are fairly tall and crowded bookcases. There is a corner that I think no one ever goes into, so I head over there to change or touch myself? I then remember and worry about the fact that there is a mirror over this section. Before I can do anything, someone calls my name, and I come over to him. We are now outside of this warehouse. There is a smaller building at the end of this concrete lot; I go over to it because I think it has a bathroom. I’m bringing the flannel pajama pants so I can change. Before I get to the door, someone stops me again. I’m glad he does: I look through the gap between the door and door frame and see a man with a gun. He is muscular, with short hair and beard. He grips the silver pistol with both hands, it poised and ready. I have the feeling he’s looking for someone else, but still I don’t want to be in his way. I also see into the bathroom. It is mostly barren concrete with what looks like a pit toilet. The base of the toilet looks slightly filthy. This open door is motley blocking this little corridor and I’m glad at the little protection it affords. This guy seems to be going back and forth with another armed man on the other side of this small, square building. Me and this other guy by me do so for a while too, not wanting to get caught in the middle. I now take an opportunity and dash away from the building. The two men come out from the corridor spaces into the open and begin firing at each other. The bullets travel slow enough for me to track them but fast enough that I imagine they’d still cause harm. Each misses the other a few times. They are conversing during this; the first mentions how he was already shot and died? There is a sense that I did not have to run away from my spot and that it actually would’ve been better had I not. I feel ashamed at my cowardice.

I’m in my car with Melissa, driving us somewhere. I think I need gas, so she tells me where to go. She tells me to go left through this roundabout and then to take a right, and I do so. I notice a car coming to the roundabout and think it’s not going to yield to me because everyone assumes no one will take the second exit. Indeed it doesn’t, speeding in front of me. I’m driving down a hill now. The area is very green, with many leafy trees and a large grass area. There’s a large pond in the grassy area. We are now swimming in it, and the surrounding area doesn’t seem as green anymore. A few people in kayaks pass us, too closely I think, and say not to fish/swim in here, humorously. I jokingly say we won’t. I think he meant not to submerge ourselves, which, looking at the murky water, I’m not going to do anyway. We’re out now and on the sandy shore. I’m laying face down on either a towel or my shirt so I can dry off.




I’m on my bed with Melissa and I think we’re each doing something separately. On my record player I am listening to a Brokedown Palace from 1972. Bobby is telling the crowd to shut up and says “oh, I don’t wanna sing” to the melody of the song. I chuckle at the historical interest of it, and Melissa makes a comment too. Now I go out to see if the air is on. I think it’s been running all night, same as the water. We also watch an animated movie with a twist ending or something that suggests a sequel.
*Last night I meant to turn the water off but kept forgetting.

I’m in a car with Mom and Makayla, I think with Mom driving. We are in or near downtown. I am in the backseat and currently looking behind us as what looks like a large flame bursts through a window in the GSR. I can’t believe it, and I take my phone out so I can get it on video. I think there is another fiery burst towards the top, and then the building appears to slowly collapse. We are a ways away and driving straight away from it, but the dust cloud slowly engulfs the street and everything else not too far from us. I tell Makayla (maybe she was driving the whole time) she might want to step on it a bit. It almost seems like no one else knows what’s going on. Now, I’m in the GSR and I don’t think there’s any damage. I don’t get how this could be.

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 in some store when I see Sean and another, girl employee from the Sephora. I’m waiting for someone in here and think I go over to talk to them. Now, someone tells me that they think they’re stealing, so I keep an eye on them. I think they’re both in uniform. Each has a small bag with them, like a travel size toiletries bag. I notice that Sean’s is open, and I can see that he does have multiples of a certain item. They are crouching down close to a shelf frequently, but I find it hard to believe they’d steal from where they work. Then again, maybe it makes it easier. I’m not sure I directly see them take anything.

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 returning some wine to Total Wine. It is a red wine, but it looks just like a six pack of bottles with a white film over them (like on a Guinness). I walk up to the large counter and hand them over, asking him if I can just tell him the ‘last four’ of my phone number. He says no, he needs the receipt, which is no problem; I take it from my pocket. It’s a long receipt, neatly folded. I notice that the name of the wine happens to be right along a crease. I think he doesn’t see it for a second because of this. He also makes a comment about the wine as he processes the return. He kind of looks like Kevin from work. I am wearing my black mask but notice that many aren’t wearing one, which makes me want to take mine off.




Bailey is in the garage at Mom’s barking incessantly with no reason. Makayla and I both hear it and go out there. The garage is full of stuff. Makayla grabs Bailey by the snout, telling her she’s annoying and that she hates her. I tell Makayla that I just had a dream that Bailey was talking, which I am taking to mean that my dreaming mind knew Bailey was barking.




I am outside with some others. It seems to be a class, and there is a projector and screen. It’s showing two rows of lockers, each against a wall in a hallway. The very first on the right side has some type of structural bolt on top of it. We are all drawing this. It is a video though, and I suggest we pause it on the scene we need, instead of letting it play like they’re doing. We pause it a few different times, none exactly where we need it. I then have the idea to hit the fast forward button while it is paused so that it’ll move one frame ahead. Now, I’m by a small concrete bridge. There is a steel bolt protruding from the side that has two wide, flat prongs so it can be turned. Melissa is here and either she or someone else asks me what it does. I say “I have no idea” but feel bad about myself because I think I really should know. I go ahead and tighten it a bit. Nothing bad happens, but I feel like it had the potential to make it collapse. I see Melissa adjusting the waist of her jeans and think that what I did somehow made her jeans get tighter.



I awaken on what seems to be the bottom bunk bed in a boat. I’m on my back and facing a window. Through the blinds I can see the pre-dawn light. I know it is or is close to 5:30 am. I notice Dad walking past, getting things ready, probably for fishing. I feel fairly awake, possibly contributed to by his being up and around. He’s now asking if I want to come with him. Part of me wants to and part of me thinks I should say yes instead of my usual no. he says they’re exploring some cove? and that on the boat I can use the seat called ‘angel’s rest’? This is a tradition, I think. There is a middle aged man and his son, probably around four, sitting on a couch; they are coming also. I notice how similar the boy looks to his dad. I imagine us on a boat and him talking to me the most since I’m closest to his age. For some reason I also imagine him starting to drown and me being the one to save him. I now grab a plastic water bottle from a fridge and start to get ready.

I am walking in Mom’s neighborhood when I notice an old lady staring at me from behind the wooden fence around her yard. She’s wearing sunglasses, some kind of hat, and I think a mask. Despite all this obscuration, I can tell that she’s older (maybe also because I think she’s wearing a sweat suit). As I walk, I look back, turn, and flip her off with both middle fingers. I don’t think I expected a reaction, but I can tell it’s really set her off. I think she wants to come out and fight me. I can see her starting to go through the house to come out here. I think about taking a right at this street, but think I’ll be highly visible. I hear her shouting in the house for someone to come get me and/or call the cops. Instead, I turn around and head through some marshy area with a walking path through it. I run across a white bridge that is a contrast to the dim water and marshy greenery. This seems to happen in slow motion, and I have time to notice how beautiful this scene is. I think that I should remember it so it might have an effect on my dreams or something similar. I think there’s one more bridge but also that I’ll have to walk through the water at some point. I think I’m wearing slippers? Earlier I also noticed how I was wearing fairly bright colored clothes. I think the police may be close.




I’m with Melissa on what seems to be a small porch? It’s really more of a small, flat protrusion from the side of a house, with mesh sidings and top. It’s just big enough for us two and I think the bottom of it is some kind of padding. All of it is black. We seem to be fairly high up and overlooking a long beach. I think we’re both naked. My head is close to between her legs, and I start going down on her. She crawls on top of me and I continue.

I am working at a Starbucks, I think with Lauren. The space seems fairly large, and this counter is very long. Currently it is very busy, and the line is double backed at least once. I sense impatience in some of the customers towards the back, but we are both working as hard and fast as we can. There’s also nobody else here that can help. I think we finally get through the line.

I am walking outside somewhere, I think with Dad and one other around my age. The landscape is of a desert, but not really the Nevada desert (maybe more like Arizona). We come upon the start of a small creek, literally the spot where it is coming up through the ground. It then increases in size until within only a few yards it’s become turgid. In the places where the water is still, I notice how it is a bright, opaque turquoise. It is very striking on the brown and sparse green. We follow this river until it leads to an opening in a slight hillside. The opening then becomes a natural tunnel, maybe 20 feet across and 20 feet high. The river has carved its spot along the bottom and we walk a few feet higher than it, along a path set into the left hand side. As I walk, I push some of the soil down on the right side of the path, as it feels unsturdy. We now begin to think that this’ll lead to Mexico, which makes us think this is a drug smuggling tunnel, which causes us to turn around and leave with some vigor and fear, lest we get caught here.




I am in the bathroom of some public place (or maybe a private place, but where others would be using this bathroom). The room is plain and white. Lifting the toilet lid, I see someone hasn’t flushed. I do so and am revolted when the feces refuses to move, let alone flush. The single piece is impossibly large, probably almost a foot long and a few inches high. I am again revolted when I remember that it’s mine. I prod it with an object but it will not break apart.




I am outside with some unfamiliar boy about my age or younger. I think that he looks Asian, but he tells me he’s an exchange student from Ethiopia. The landscape is desert and we’re outside of an empty looking storefront that seems to be the only thing around. He makes a comment about the heat, either that it’s a lot more or less than Ethiopia.
*I think this might’ve been before the first dream/he was the other person in it.

I am inside somewhere. I am in some area that is either a hallway or a long bathroom. There is a stall with quite a large gap between the floor and the wall. My coworker and I are taking the toilet out and installing one that has some hidden mirror. This coworker (unfamiliar) sits on it while I stand outside of the stall to see how it looks. The toilet just seems like it’s highly reflective stainless steel. I can clearly see his pale thighs but not much else. I go in and reposition it to where I think it’ll offer a better view. I think our office must be right outside this stall. Now someone, he almost seems like a school’s principal, has caught us. We are made to put it all back (we moved a few other things), and all I can feel is shame. I then begin to think that he didn’t actually know our motive but just thought that we were messing around, which offers me a bit of relief. Now I’m in some room, by some filing cabinets?, with this coworker, noticing his short, red hair. He is friendly and talkative and starts talking about Scott. I contribute to the conversation and add that Scott was a great boss. Now I’m working and/or browsing in a plain white, dim room. There are some black milk crates of music on various media. I find a copy of the Tool album Salival on a VHS that is still in the shrink wrap. I then find that the bottom is open but that you can slide it back in if you’re careful. I think that this is rare and that I have to get it since it’s only a few dollars. I think I don’t have anywhere to play it but that it’s probably a collectible or a good return on investment if I were to sell it. I find a few cassettes? and then walk up to the counter to check out with Julia. The counter seems to stand alone outside in this pretty barren landscape. She looks at the items and says I can just take them because she overcharged me last time. Excited at this, I say thanks and walk off. I get the sense that I’ll be walking home.

I am outside and in some body of water, maybe a small lake. There is a stone wall that I and some others are jumping into the water from. I think it or part of it is mostly submerged though? Now, I’m looking at a stone arch - like a doorway - with a tree behind it. There is an older man who climbs the arch and then starts climbing the tree too. I guess he’s going to be jumping from up there. Now I think there’s something about him getting stuck and falling. I see him lying on the ground.




I am about to play a game with a guy about my age who is unfamiliar to me. I know that this is a 200 year rivalry? and so I become somewhat anxious. The guy is darker skinned and much heavier than me, which worries me. The game begins now, and it’s like air hockey, except on the ground and with a stone? puck a foot or two across. We can only use our feet to move it, and I grasp the siding of the small arena for more force. I easily score goal after goal until I think there’s no way he’ll be able to come back.