Recent DJ Posts

I am somewhere outside? with Melissa, Pepe, and his mom. I think they both look high and then, sure enough, she lets on that they are. She confides in us that Caesar is the head of some pot farm/ selling ring or something similar. I can see it, imagining him and his boisterous personality right now. Now, I am climbing up through some tall and thin wooden structure. I pass through ‘floors’ that are spaces barely bigger than my body. Each side of the space, I think even including the top, is a mirror, making for a trippy experience. I now get to what seems to be the top. It is different because the sides are concave, joining in a small ceiling, and it seems there’s nowhere left to go. I don’t accept this possibility though, and push on one of the sides. It opens and reveals a vast, dim space that I think may be the pot farm.




I am in New York City with Melissa, walking along a sidewalk. The street is busy and I can smell and taste the putrid emissions from passing trucks. The sidewalk is close enough to the street, but it thins even further at one point, leaving hardly any space for foot traffic. We pass a tower with a parabolically curved glass facade. The glass is mostly translucent, but it gets much dimmer higher up. There is a space behind the glass, in which there are large advertisements. Melissa says something about how they won’t even be visible. I agree. We end up in a restaurant that seems familiar (from another dream, I think). I notice a couple about our age in the booth behind us, across from me. They are dressed pretty nice for this place and sitting on the same side. I think about their life. I notice a man in sunglasses sitting alone at a booth diagonal from us. Melissa asks to trade sides, and we do. I look through the fairly short menu and decide I want pretty much the first thing on it, some corn dog things. The waitress, brunette and maybe 30+, comes over and seems out of it, like drunk or sad or something. She gives us a minute. I look at the extensive beer list in the back. They’re sorted by brewery (they must all be local - I don’t recognize any), under the brewery’s logo. The price per beer is then listed after the name, lowest to highest, separated by slashes. Most of the first prices are six to seven dollars, but I see prices like 9,16, 27, 59, etc. I think these prices must be for bottles and/or pitchers but that they’re still ridiculous. I guess that’s just how it is in the city. Nothing sounds too good anyway, so I figure I’ll settle for a slightly cheaper bill. The waitress returns and sits by me, putting her hand on my shoulder. It could be a nice gesture, but with how she is slightly rubbing her hand it is taken a little too far. She takes Melissa’s order and then mine. I say ‘I just found something, where did it go?’, trying to find it again. I find it and tell her while also pointing. She doesn’t say much. She comes back and sits again. This time she reaches over and grabs my crotch. I am a little shocked and put my own hand over it. When I move my hand, she does it again and then leaves. I text or tell Melissa and she just shrugs it off. I want to tell her what kind of reaction there would be if the genders were switched.

This guy Ryan at school, he was REALLY fucking rich in my dream. I was going over to his house, which was in Utah but it was on the beach at the same time. I was using GPS on my phone to get over there, and I almost got in a car crash because of it. When I got there, his house was HUGE and he had his own private section of beach. His entire big ass extended family was there though, and I felt really overwhelmed by all of them, and for some reason I felt ashamed. I don't know why, I just remember that feeling. His dad gave me a new birth certificate, because I told him I disowned my family so I needed a new one. Ryan's whole family was really excited for me for doing that. Ryan also told me some really nice things, like that I'm compassionate and strong and in tune to the world around me. That was nice.
I can't remember if this happened before or after. I was in a diner with Connor, Gaby, Jordan, who are all high school friends. We were having a good time, but the waitress was a total bitch. So I gave her feedback, SRA style. She actually understood, and was willing to take my advice. I think that came from doing resentments yesterday that centered around someone not taking my advice, but idk.
There was another part where I was in a dorm at college, but it didn't look like the one I actually live in. I had started drinking again, and I had a HUGE stash of liquor in my closet. I wouldn't tell anyone about it, and I especially wouldn't share. I just remember being pissed in this part of my dream.

12/21/11

Went to bed late and didn't really get a good nights/morning sleep. oops.

I'm eating hummus and pita bread outside at a restaurant with my family. The waitress is loud and over friendly. She is sitting at our table and eating our food. Back at home I smoke a joint with my brothers and watch Family Guy. That is pretty much it.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I sat in a restaurant, kind of like a huge "bar & grille" style restaurant. I sat at a booth table with a dark wood backing. There was a thin column that ran on the aisle side of the booth, to the left. To my right was a dark wood wall.

A Japanese business man sat to my left, and another Japanese business man sat across the table from me. Both the men were asleep, with their heads laid down in their arms on the table. A woman stood near us. She may also have been Japanese. She was either a business woman or a waitress.

The Chiaki Naomi song "Yoru he sogu" started playing. I could barely hear it -- it was like it was playing in another room of this huge restaurant, and barely audible from my position. I strained to hear it. I was really excited that such a cool but obscure song was playing in a restaurant like this.

I may or may not have tried to wake the men up so they could hear this song. But now the men started waking up slowly.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a camper trailer, one of the kinds that hitch to the back of a pickup truck. It was parked somewhere in the woods. The door was open. I stood in the doorway. My sister stood just outside it.

My sister told me that "J Bieb" or "J Bumblebee" had died. He was some kind of famous figure, but I didn't know very much about him. My sister kind of took a mildly sarcastic tone with me, as if to say, "I know you couldn't care less." It was like she was accusing me of not caring about our family because I wasn't so emotionally stricken by this celebrity's death.

I was then in some other place. A young, kind of attractive girl told me that a celebrity named J Bieb had died. She might even have said something like, "Everybody remembers where they were on the day J Bieb died."

I didn't know anything about this celebrity. But suddenly I remembered that my sister had told me about either this celebrity or a celebrity with a very similar name.

So, to imptess the girl, I blurted out, "Oh, yeah! My sister had said something about that! I think it was back... My sister and my family had come to visit me. They'd rented a camper."

Realizing I would have made my family sound like they had a lot of money for renting a camper, I said, "Well, not one of the big campers. Just one of the small ones, you know, that..."

I may have been making hand motions to illustrate how the small camper worked.

Dream #2

I was with my friend H on an airplane. We lifted off. It was a cloudy day. Everything seemed fine. But just as we ascended into the lower layer of clouds, the plane sped up really quickly. That seemed really abnormal. We suddenly slumped downward. The plane was headed back toward the ground. It was obvious that something was wrong.

I could see as if I were looking through the pilot's window, even though I was still with H in the normal passenger area. The pilot got us turned around. The engines were dead. But the pilot was trying to get us back to the runway. We were kind of gliding, but we were also descending really quickly. I knew it would be a bad landing.

The plane approached the runway. It hit the tarmac pretty violently, possibly smashing theunderside of the plane. But nothing exploded.

I could hear or imagine some kind of news announcement talking about the plane crash. My vision was now outside and behind the plane. I was still alive. But I didn't know about H. I could still see from inside the plane, but not very well. Everything was shaking around.

Then the plane twisted over onto its left side. I could see it as if I were outside and behind the plane and see and feel it as if I were inside the plane. At this point, the plane came to a stop.

Dream #3

I was on a plane with a woman like my mother, although the woman was not more than a few years older than I. The plane had landed, and people were all getting off. I might, however, actually have been staying on the plane, as if I had just stayed on in order to help my mother get situated.

At some point, my mother became a kind of tall, thin woman, like my old friend AL.

Now a young woman with a kind of hip look, possibly with maroon-dyed hair, came into the plane and sat down. She may even have buckled the seat belt. But she was really here to meet with my mother/friend and visit places in this area with my friend.

The young woman was a lesbian, and I got the feeling that she was going to try to seduce my friend. I really didn't mind. She was only my friend. I wasn't in love with her.

So I tried to give some advice to the young woman about how to have a good time in this area. It was partly because I felt bad that I wasn't staying here. It was some kind of tough place to be, and my not staying kind of implied that I wasn't tough. But I'd been here before, and I wanted to prove it. So I started to give the girl advice.

I said, "You look like you're dressed for the summer right now. But when you go down into the caves, make sure you bring a sweater. Because it gets cold when the wind whips through the tunnels. It's like --" and I made some kind of blowing, whistling sound.

The young woman had gotten bored about halfway through what I was saying. Finally she unbuckled herself and stood up. She sulkily walked past me and said, "I already know that stuff."

Dream #4

I and a group of people, probably my family, stood up from dinner at a restaurant. A family at another table stood up at the same time as we did. My mother may have started up a little exchange between our group and the other group, based on some interesting similarity between us. Both groups were laughing and cheerful, but I felt like things could turn stressful pretty quickly.

The tables we were sitting at were in a basement area, and we had to head up some stairs to get to the first floor dining area and exit. I may either have been heading for the stairs or some place like a coat closet or coat check. My family was headed in the other direction.

I was kind of happy to be splitting from the two groups and the almost tense situation. But my mom then called out to a young boy in the group, "You know that ----- (she said my name) lived in Colorado, too." This was supposed to give me something in common with the boy, who was getting ready to go do something in Colorado.

I knew that now I'd be obliged to talk to the boy. He was tall, white, pale, with kind of shaggy hair, not quite down to his shoulders. He wore a t-shirt and a hooded sweatshirt. He seemed cool. But he seemed about as inconvenienced by having to talk to me as I felt for having to talk to him.

We walked in the direction of my family. We headed up the steps. I asked the boy where he'd grown up. He said, "In the West V-----"

We were walking through some kind of crowded space with wood walls. There were a lot of people, and the place was full of noise, so I hadn't quite heard what the boy had said. So I mistook it for "West Village."

I said, "Oh, you grew up in New York?"

The boy said, "No. I said the West Valley." He seemed annoyed at my mistake. So I made some kind of dumb joke. I became really sheepish. As the boy, kind of ignoring me, walked away and back toward his group (we were all in the ground floor dining area), I kept calling out to him with this weird joke.

I suddenly stopped myself, thinking, Geez. The way I'm going at this guy, you'd think I had a crush on him.

So I went and sat at a table where my mom was sitting. The boy's mom was also sitting there. She was white, kind of thin, with short, blonde hair. She'd overheard my weird joke to the boy. She said, "Yeah, a lot of people don't know where the West Valley is. But it's basically all the most populous regions in Kentucky." She said this with a kind of mock-flair that made me realize she thought the area was pretty dumpy.

I wanted to respond with a joke like, "Right, all the great suburbs of -----." I wanted to say a really big town in Kentucky. But all I could think of was Louisville. And I didn't think that was good enough.

A waitress came up to the table from my left. A man had been calling after her. He'd been trying to joke with her, trying to flirt with her. He'd struck me as a bit of an old creep. I was afraid he'd pursue the waitress to our table and start making trouble for us.

The waitress was wearing some kind of one-piece shorts outfit with a gently colorful floral print and made out of a satiny material. She had tan skin and pale brown hair. She was incredibly sexy, but she didn't strike me as a waitress.

The waitress gave me some eye and body signals to let me know she was attracted to me. She then said, "Maybe you should give me your card or your contact information, so we can keep in touch."

I said, "I don't have a card, but I can give you my email address." I shifted in my seat and leaned back a bit, as if I were going to pull a card out of my wallet. I felt embarrassed that I didn't have any business cards. I asked the woman, "Can you give me a napkin?"

The woman sat down in the chair across from me. She picked up a napkin. There were drawings along the top of the napkin. I had apparently been looking at them before. They were done in black, felt-tip pen. They had struck me, as I'd seen them, as some kind of mystical hieroglyphics.

But the woman, looking at them, laughed. I asked her why. She directed me through each drawing, from left to right. It showed stick figures, in frame-like settings, like in a comic strip. One frame showed a boy chasing a girl. Another frame showed the boy and girl together in bed. Another frame showed the boy and girl doing some kind of really nasty sex position.

I said, "Well, I hadn't seen that at all! Must've been cause I was reading it the Japanese way." This meant from right to left, instead of from left to right. Okay...

I suddenly realized that this drawing was made as a kind of love letter to the girl. I was scared. I thought she'd think I'd written this to her. But then I realized that the creepy guy had actually made this drawing for the waitress.

There was another drawing below the first drawing. The first frame showed a cabin in a snowstorm. The second image showed a close-up of some structure in the snowstorm. Then there were a couple of images of an American flag waving in the wind.

Below each frame there were captions. The first captions were something like, "A snowstorm, loneliness, the comfort of a warm home." The next to last caption was, "Destroy the commandos." The final caption was, "America the brave."

I realized that this was some kind of mass-marketed (how?) advertisement for how America should continue the war on terror. For some reason I felt like this was directed against me. I also thought that, since I thought the drawing was kind of silly, that I'd somehow be targeted by the government as unpatriotic.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a cafe that looked more like a small deli. The space was really tight, although the store seemed to extend pretty far back. There was one narrow area that tiered up a meter or so to a narrow platform. Then there were stairsteps down to a very narrow back area with a drinks display refrigerator. Beside the narrow platform there was some kind of buffet style sevice area, with a cash register at the end, near the front of the store.

My friend R was in the cafe, sitting at some small table around a corner (?) at the back end of the platform area. I might have been surprised to meet him here, but I may also have been scheduled to meet him here.

R may have been finished eating. He had at least gotten his food. I was kind of ashamed that I was so slow that I hadn't even picked up my food yet. I needed to get food. R said something like he'd wait for me to get my food and then leave.

I was definitely thinking of a specific kind of food. I think desserts were the main thing served here. But I got an image in my head of a white cake box with a small turkey or whole cornish game hen in it.

I looked at the drinks display case for a moment, then I went to the cashier. Space felt pretty weird. Sometimes I felt like I stood higher than the cashier. Other times I felt like I didn't feel like I could order, receive, or pay for my food. I felt like my ineptitude might have been annoying the cashier. But she was remaining polite and smiling the whole time.

Dream #2

I was in a restaurant with my friend H. Another woman was following us. The woman was A, a girl who works at a cafe I go to all the time.

The restaurant was apparently a fine restaurant. But it looked kind of like a big living room in an ordinary, suburban house, filled with dining tables. The windows were smallish and high up on the walls, giving the sense that this place was sunk down a little into the ground. Everything had a blue-grey light. The carpet may have been blue. The restaurant was full of people, mostly older people.

H and I had been sitting at one table, but the girl A had followed us there. So now we'd been moved to another table. But A followed us there as well. Our table was a long table, maybe made for four or six people. A sat at a table for two which was connected with another table for two by a wooden, bench-style seat. That table was at right angles to ours, and A sat with her back to H and I.

I may have seen all of this as if I were looking at it from outside my body. I may have been wearing a round-brimmed hat, like I wore in college.

Upset that A was following us again, I decided to leave the restaurant. I managed to get H and I up and out of the restaurant at a time when A wasn't looking. We were gone, but my view remained in the restaurant.

A waitress came up to serve A. The waitress was Asian and wore a black shirt and black oants. A asked the waitress who I was and where I was going.

I probably now saw from A's point of view. She was walking along some portico area made of stone or concrete and brick. She kept passing all these clothing stores and other stores. Some of the stores were set into the brick wall. Others were on the opposite side, the open air side, of the portico, between the columns, apparently in thin air. Other stores were just signs standing up on polished metal poles.

The stores were all also like apartments. The quality of the clothes in each store indicated the quality of the apartment. A (I still saw through her eyes) was looking through all these stores to find out which one indicated the apartment I lived in.

As she did this, she had a thought-conversation with a woman who seemed to be an older, guiding figure in her life. I'd occasionally see the woman's face fading before A's view, like a ghostly double-exposure on a photo.

A finally walked past one store which didn't look like a store at all. It actually looked like the sliding doors of an elevator, except made out of pale wood. The doors were also almost 3 meters tall. There were some words in gold or bronze lettering that gave the name of the store, some store for really good men's suits. This, A assumed, was where I lived, or that this was the clothing store that indicated what kind of apartment I live in.

A was now convinced that I was some kind of billionaire. I don't think her plan was right away to follow me into this store, which now, at least, actually did lead to my apartment. I think she planned to come up with some way to blackmail me or trick me into being with her so she could have my money.

But then A (I still seeing through her eyes) saw a man standing in the doorway of the store, as if the doors swung open instead of sliding open. The man was white, about average height, a little stocky, but muscly. He had close-shaved hair on his head and a little stubble on his face. He wore a brown or grey blazer, a green, button-up shirt, and blue jeans.

The man may have been inviting A into the store. I think that A now figured that she would go into the store and try to find my apartment.