All DJ Entries

I’m on a walk. I get to the edge of a driveway, where a Black man has met and is talking to a white, male police officer. I get the impression he has come down here so the officer won’t go on his property. Now, another Black man comes out and does the same thing. The officer leaves amicably and then the first man turns to me and starts handing me some cash, a few crisp bills. He has short hair and seems very genuine. I think it’s a few 20s and I don’t even know what it’s for, so I say no, I can’t take it. The second man, with shoulder length dreads and baggier clothes, tries doing the same, and I think I give in. I think at the beginning of this, I put on headphones to listen to a Tedeschi Trucks Band show (the song was ‘Laugh About It’ into a drum segment). The weather was cooler - I had pants and a long sleeve. I was walking on the right side of the roads [sic] as two girls were coming towards me. I noticed a car coming from behind them and from behind me as I had to go around them to the left, thinking it would leave very little room for the cars.




I’m walking into a store with Sage. I think it’s a reptile or animal store. On the left, I notice three tanks on stands that’ve been covered with a black film or cover. Two older ladies working here say hi and then I think profile or customer service me. This irritates me as we walk into a larger back room, Sage way ahead of me.




I’m on a walk and have ended up on what looks like a sandy hillside that overlooks a beach and the ocean? It is sunset and the thick and vivid layers of deep reds and oranges are absolutely beautiful. There is some kind of electronic trance music playing and it makes for a very ethereal moment. I’m now down on the beach and there are a bunch of people dancing to the music. The sunset is the background, but there are also strobe lights. I think I start dancing.





Granny has died, but I feel comforted knowing that she had the opportunity to say bye to everyone and also that she came to me in a dream (*this seemed very real, and I was recalling pretty much exactly our visit with her yesterday).

I am walking on a path that is about to fork and incline up a hillside. I think Mom or someone else is with me. There are also two middle aged or younger women that have been walking fairly close to us. They start talking with us, asking if we think they can manage the uphill. They seem kind of sketchy to me, so I try to get them to take the path in the other direction. They end up choosing to do so, and I think it is so they don’t have to keep walking awkwardly close to us. On the uphill now, the path is narrow and sandy. I see the women walking off in the other direction and one is pulling a cart behind her, so I guess it’s good they didn’t come this way anyway.




I am outside somewhere with Melissa, and we’re walking up to some pizza place. The storefront has some windows - I see no door - and a stainless steel counter top. There are a few picnic style tables crowded together in the front, currently all full (I think with only men). The owner? is sitting among everyone, facing us, and I hear him call out for someone’s order. He has an air of being among everything in a perfectly friendly way while also being on top of all the operations. He seems shorter and rotund, shaven and with short but thick brown hair, and genial. He takes a pizza on a white paper plate and tosses it to someone like a frisbee. It nears the ground and then slows impossibly until the guy grabs it. We’re now sitting across from this guy at a high table. He is eating from a plate of something. There are a few, three?, beers brewed/served here, and I contemplate getting one. I think they’re all IPAs, which I’m not too thrilled about. The guy refers to one as ‘thickest/dankest’? and I decide that it does sound good. I offer to get him one, and he says something about not needing another, but says yes anyway. I can tell by his grin and behaviors that he is feeling it.

I am outside and walking through a neighborhood with a few others. It seems like we’re doing something for a school assignment. We’re looking for a certain house and come up on one that I think is right because it looks familiar. The house is white with a light blue trim. It’s slightly downhill from the street and is placed horizontally on the lot. The garage is open, revealing all of the stuff inside that looks familiar. The number is something like 150105. I look on the map on my phone, and it shows us about halfway down this street. Looking to the left, I see that the street starts to incline somewhat significantly, telling them I don’t remember going uphill. I tell them I can also search Canvas to see if it’s the right one. I do so and don’t think I find anything. We end up deciding that it’s the right house. We go inside, and it’s kind of empty and dim. The others take an open riser staircase to the second floor. I stay back and then walk back to the front door. The owner has arrived - it’s David from Discology and his son. They’re walking up and I meet them at the glass sliding door. I don’t think much is said, and I guess he doesn’t find it weird that I’m in his house. I say something about the others, and I think he goes to look for them, using a flashlight. I think it is somewhat intense.




I’m at work and going on a break. I need to use the bathroom, and we have to use Sani Huts. they are scattered all around this parking lot, and I head for a line of them up against a fence. There is a handicapped one, which I take because it is larger, because it is not busy out here, and because there are more in case someone needs it. I am relieved when I step in and find it clean and without much of a scent. I use some toilet paper to put the seat down. I think I am just sitting on top of the seat now, and I notice a window in here. Through it, I see a bed, upon which sit several people. I notice two girls, a couple, what look very similar if not almost the same. They are reclined, tan, and naked from the waist up. Currently, each has her arms above her head, which gently lifts her breasts and perky nipples. They begin taking off each other’s underwear and kissing, so I take out my phone and start taking a video on Snapchat. I can’t believe I can see this from here and no one can see in. I briefly contemplate its potential. I end up in another Sani Hut now, and it has the same kind of window. This one seems to be at the end of a dirt road or parking lot. To the left is an old station wagon with an open back. There are one or two women and some kids (maybe on a sports team?) approaching it - it must be theirs. One of the women, Asian?, is wearing a Grateful Dead shirt I’ve never seen before. It’s black and is tasteful; it also looks like it could be homemade. I think it’s cool that she’s into them, I think because it’s a change from the typical white male. They all start getting into the back of the car, which has blankets and I think string lights. They start playing music and smoking weed out of a lightbulb. One guy, Asian, takes a quick but large hit. I know that I don’t smoke, but they seem to be having a great time, which is fine by me. Now, I’m walking out to the Sani Huts again. It is raining fairly hard, which I barely feel. I’m walking over the rocks in a median and notice it pooling up here as well as along the sides of the road.

I’m going to go to Melissa’s after work, I think for Valentine’s day. After I’m done (not sure where) I walk to the house, which seems close. The house is very upscale, large, and with lots of stone. When I get inside I discover that all of the lights are out, so I figure everyone is sleeping. It was light outside but it is near pitch black inside. I start down a foyer or hallway, which is the only place with even a hint of natural light filtering in. I go through a living room and stumble into a couch, then use it to guide myself. Despite my slight miscalculation on the couch, I seem to know exactly where to go. Now, I’m in the backseat of a car in the garage here. Melissa is in the driver’s seat, Alex in the passenger’s. I’m thinking that they’re just getting back from somewhere, but they’re actually going out to see the sunset. The garage door is open and behind me I can see the sunset through some trees and houses. The sun looks halfway sunken on the horizon, shrouded in oranges, yellows, and thin clouds. I end up telling Melissa that I didn’t bring an extra pair of clothes but that I might not worry about going to get some tonight since I’ll be going home in the morning. I tell her I’ve barely worn this shirt and that the shorts are fine too (*I think I am envisioning the same clothes I was wearing at her house yesterday). She makes a comment about the underwear still being the same. We are walking around this neighborhood and pass what looks like Scott with a much younger Shannon and I think a small dog. I end up at a swimming pool with an infant (about six months old and mine). I’m swimming at the shallow edge and the boy is up on the tile. I’m not being negligent though; I am watching him. There are about two women here, and he’s playing with one of their iced drink Starbucks cups. I have him bring it to her and he does. He’s cute and we’re all laughing and smiling. He looks very similar to me as a child that age.

Melissa and I have had a baby. We are somewhere outside where there are a bunch of tents set up - like camping tents, but I think slightly bigger. I think all of these tents are for couples and their newborns. I also think this is the first time we get to see our kid. Sitting outside of the tent, the baby is revealed to me. When I first see her I cannot help but to grin and be filled with joy. She is chunky but very pretty, with fine, yellow hair. We have named her Makayla, and, in fact, she looks like both Makayla and myself as babies. She crawls around, smiling and laughing (it looks like she’s around six months old). She gets that same devious expression on her face that I sometimes get and it causes me to feel excited. ‘She is spunky’, I think, imagining the years to come. I play around with her, making her laugh, giving her kisses. I tell her jokes and I think she actually talks back (not 100% mature, but definitely too advanced for her age). Now, I am leaving to go to a Starbucks that is right by here to reheat a drink for Mom. I walk through some storefronts along a slightly winding paved area and don’t notice anyone else out. Just as I come up on the Starbucks, I realize that I am not wearing a mask and that they may not take kindly to that here. Moreover and probably more importantly, I realize that I am completely naked. I become aware of my bare torso, backside, and penis juxtaposed against this setting. I wonder about the legality of this and then go back to get the coffee that I’ve forgotten anyway. I come back, this time clothed, but without the coffee. There are people wearing face masks and waiting, distanced from each other. The barista behind the counter sees me and goes to take my order, but I tell him I forgot something and I’ll be right back. Now, I am taking the coffee out of a microwave (not sure if it’s in the Starbucks or not). It looks like a short sized cup of a tan colored coffee drink. There is ice in it, but I think it may also be hot? I try it and it’s creamy and really not all that good. Mom is here, sitting on a long, brown leather couch. She takes the drink, tries it, and agrees with me. I am back with Melissa now and we are going to go home with our kid. I think about what life is going to be like now with a baby, specifically the nights.




I am with Dad somewhere and he’s talking about walking around some of the houses in this neighborhood (I think they are nice). I’m looking at one across the street right now. It is right next to the asphalt street and looks to be completely a glass curtain wall with vertical supports every ten feet or so. Right now it is mostly a reflection, so it’s almost as if it’s disguised, not there. Dad says he was walking by one and taking a picture and then he thought someone was about to come out and punch him - except it was just a woman? He says he offered to show her the pictures, that they’re just scenery and nothing bad. I tell him I feel weird/bad about taking pictures sometimes, too. Dad’s going to go for a walk right now and is offering for me to come. I look out and slightly to the right and see a woman walking up a slight ravine in a mostly green hillside.

I am on a walk. I notice someone coming up behind me so I step side to let them pass. I then notice an old couple coming up quickly and wait for them too. I overhear the man tell the woman that it’s time to start their cardio. I think that’s great for them, given their age. I notice how thin his legs are and how thin she is. They pass me on a footbridge that’s probably 30 feet or so long, winding, with some snow left on it. Getting behind them, I say “mind if I try to keep up with you guys? It might be good for me” as they’re starting to jog. I don’t think they mind even though I’m not sure they say anything and I keep following even though I know it’s weird what I just did. We do end up talking about different hiking areas. The man mentions somewhere in Orange County, as if it’s close, and then a spot that actually is nearby. He points when he talks, but I focus more on the woman (maybe because she is closer?). He says ‘hello’ to get my attention and then looks irritated when I look up after it’s already too late. They are both nice and kind of blunt. We’re on a straightaway of an old dirt road among some pines. To my left there is a small field. In the field there is what looks like the trunk of a Baobab tree. It is topped with flags of different countries? that are currently swelling in the breeze. It seems abandoned or otherwise has some creepy element about it. I take a picture to send to Melissa, thinking of Midsommar. For a second I think I probably shouldn’t be this close to this couple with the virus going around. Looking at her, I think it would probably kill her if she got it. They don’t seem to be concerned though. We are now near the top of a hill and I’m not sure I’ve been this far. There is a good view of the city behind us (very similar to the actual view) and there is another hill to the left that I think I have walked down before.




I think I’m in a school or classroom. I have to go to the bathroom and I see that the ‘bathroom’ is two stalls right next to what looks like a teacher’s desk. The one further from the desk looks slightly larger than the other. The whole setup is awkward. I go different times, each time a different scenario of people at the desk and in the stalls or not. I think at one point HR Rosy is at the desk. I line the toilet seat with the thin toilet paper, conscious of everyone being able to hear what I’m doing in here.

I am on a walk with Melissa, currently in a neighborhood. It seems nicer and the houses are not that close together, possibly because we’re on the outskirts of it. Now the houses are all but gone and it looks like we’re coming up on the Hunter Creek trail. We walk for a little bit up the slight grade and end up on a large driveway of faded, rusty orange stone. A few paces ahead of us there are about three or four kids also heading uphill. I think they are all girls. The oldest looks to be maybe eight and the youngest three or so. We nonchalantly keep walking with them and end up inside this large house on the hill. Melissa and I are in a smaller and tidy bedroom, maybe a guest room, and can hear the kids messing around behind the closed door of another room. Melissa now stands up and pulls her pants down; she is going to change. Before she can do anything else, there is some movement in the hallway and then a man and a teenage boy who is probably his son appear in the doorway. There is something off about both of their facial features. The whole scene is awkward. Melissa is wearing a shirt long enough to cover herself, but she does not pull her pants up. I assume the man is the homeowner and I am bracing for what comes next as he has just found two strangers in his house, but he just stands there and never says a word. For some reason, the waistband of my shorts (my blue athletic ones) is very low and I’m trying to discreetly pull them up. I know the scene looks bad too, with her pants down - from his perspective it probably looks like she was quickly trying to put them back on. I guess the man is just used to people showing up in his house, and now he is gone. I am now in a large, open living room. Another man with a small dog shows up. It’s just the two of us in here, so he starts talking to me, telling me the dog is Zoe. I tell him I have a Zoe too, a black lab. We make small talk as I throw a toy for this small dog. I think about introducing myself but never do, and he doesn’t either. He has glasses, is somewhat dopey looking, and talks rather slow. This room has a window almost the size of the whole wall. Looking through it, I can see that it’s close to sunset. There are hazy clouds with a tint of orange and closer to Mt. Rose there is a group of clouds with the sun behind them. There is a very large patio area with some people on it watching the sunset. I notice a couple, the guy behind the girl with his arms around her. The man in here makes a comment about some girls out there. I say something about my girlfriend being in the other room and then walk outside. I get to the end of the patio - it ends at a fairly steep rocky incline that has flat areas that you can still get to. There are a few people hanging out in these areas. I notice two girls laying on their backs, wearing shorts and tight grey tank tops. It is growing darker out and the sunset is getting good. There is a laptop out here playing a Dead and Company live stream, though the current song is nothing I recognize. (I think I somehow see the set list and the first few songs are nothing I recognize and nothing they’ve really played). Someone behind me is watching and right before they walk away they make a comment about them looking like ‘science geeks’? I think it’s because John is wearing glasses. I am looking at the sky again now and at one cloud in particular. This cloud, silhouetted by the sun, looks remarkably like an angel. There are wings, arms bent as if in prayer, and even a clear halo. I quickly take my phone out to take a picture to send to Mom. I take a picture and a video just in case the clouds shift. When I look back at the video, I see the part of the cloud that looks like the arm very quickly move to its face and back down, as if wiping a tear. I think this whole thing is miraculous.

I am walking through what looks like Dad’s neighborhood (maybe on one of the higher streets, like Virginia Foothills). I run into Kat and she ends up walking with me. It is near sunset and some of the lower and plumper clouds are getting some color. The rest are smaller and almost evenly spaced, bright white against the blue. I look directly up and notice a glowing sliver of the moon. It’s all very pretty. Kat mentions the sky too, saying she’s grateful for Emma for getting her to pay more attention to it, and that she wants to see it more often. I take some pictures of it as we walk. We end up at her house. I think the garage door is open, and I can tell by the way she’s talking that she has intentions to leave now. Before she does, I somewhat bluntly mention how I want to stop drinking. This seems to pique her interest, and she talks to me about it. I tell her I feel like quitting altogether but am not sure if I should stick with moderation. She pulls a little red champagne flute from somewhere and hands it to me, saying I could use it for moderation. I look at it and its almost grimy looking opaque sides, imagining how it might hold a small serving. I kind of like the idea and think I might take it, but then change my mind. I say that I want it to be a mindset thing and not something like this. Now, Chelsea has shown up, I think in a car. She stands behind us and when she sees me she recognizes me but thinks I’m someone else. I tell her no and think it slightly odd that she wouldn’t remember me. I am now walking back, now either on a dirt road or a road surrounded by dirt and small hills. There’s a small stream of water running down this slope, through the soil and grasses. I follow it and see where it meets another stream on an opposing slope, turning to one and running downwards. I look out to my left and notice a hill where water appears to be coming from. There’s a tiny canyon carved into the soft looking dark brown soil, and I imagine walking through it. I am walking right by where the streams meet, doing okay with stepping on the sturdier patches of soil and grasses. Most of it is still soft and it’s hard to tell what will give, so I end up getting both of my shoes wet and muddy. I end up back home, rinsing and scrubbing them. I put them out to dry even though it’s pretty overcast.




I’ve gotten an email from the new girl at work (it’s not actually the girl who is supposed to start. I think I see a profile picture on the email or something and it’s an unfamiliar heavyset white girl). She’s asking about me not being there for a shift, but I’m pretty sure I haven’t been scheduled. I think I’ve been using time off. She sounds more like a manager than a coworker and kind of annoying. After the text there are a few pictures of a hotel room - I think it must be a work thing. The hotel seems nice and also very familiar. I think I must have stayed there before. I think it looks more impressive than it actually is. A picture of the shower shows the floor of small, dark pebbles and the opposing stainless steel shower heads. Now, I am in the hotel. It looks like someone had just been here but tidied a bit before leaving, so I guess I just missed her. There’s a full looking black garbage bag in the abnormally large space adjacent to the toilet. The toilet itself actually has a garbage bag around it, somehow from the ground up. I adjust the opening of the bag so as to be able to use the toilet.




I am somewhere with the family. We’re in a plain, rectangular building that is for something like customs or passports or photos (something that we have to do together as a family). I notice quite a few other families here too, I think seated at tables. Whatever we’re doing here, the personale is being very aggressive with us. They are making us do tasks or challenges that seemed to be designed to result only in failure. A younger guy, I think in a uniform, tries to handcuff me but only gets one finger. He notices, his facial expression betraying his embarrassment, and tries again. The same happens, though he doesn’t notice this time. He tells me to now “clap above your head and find some shade.” I think he also holds me down to ensure failure. Still, I succeed in clapping above my head, slightly satisfied with defying his expectation of failure. I’m not sure about the shade part though. These things go on for a while longer. When we are done, I’m thinking about how I’m going to write to someone about how atrociously we were treated.




From a third person perspective I am seeing a high rise building (a hotel) that stands alone on a sprawling fine sand beach. The building seems somewhat modern and is mostly a tower but with some structural embellishments at the base. It is also way too near the water and, in fact, there is currently water submerging the first few floors. I think there’s something about the occupants just staying inside when it floods, though that seems counter intuitive. Someone is interviewing a lone, blond man maybe in his late 20s. He seems foreign, probably European, though he is speaking more articulately than most native speakers. I think he’s talking about the structural design and why it is flooding.

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.

I am outside with Melissa, alongside what looks like Geiger Grade. We are on the north side, and it almost looks like it did before all the construction. I think we are walking on stilts. She wants to cross to the other side right now, but I look back and see cars coming. We just wait until the intersection, which was very close anyway. Now, we are in what feels like a very large garage. There are a few inches of water on the ground and partitions about every foot, hanging down with several inches of clearance above the ground. Melissa is somehow going above them, but I choose to go below. I simply hold my breath as I pass under each partition. I think I have fins on and I notice the ease with which they allow me to move through the water, enabling me to clear at least two partitions at a time.




I am going to some work dinner. I’m arriving at the same time as a blond girl that I guess works with me but that I don’t really know. The hostess asks her how many, and she replies ‘one.’ I’m a little put off, as we seem to be the first ones and I thought she would just get a table for all, but I guess not. When she returns and asks me, I tell her ‘two’ in case Melissa is coming. She seats me at a glossy, wooden, rectangular table next to a wall. There are a few open seats but there are also 2-3 Asian boys and Anthony from jewelry. He seems slightly surprised to see me, and I feel likewise. I say hi. I’m going to introduce myself to the others, but I think I let too much time pass to where it would now be awkward. I’m now sitting at a different table with Brooke. The waitress has not been over in a long time; when she does come over, she grabs some dishes and makes no intimations of offering further service, so I take it upon myself to ask for a glass of water and a Macallan 12 year, neat. Brooke also asks for something. She says okay and walks off. I am eating tiny, raw eggs, breaking off a part of the shell to get to the contents.

Really bad headache last night, but had some semi-lucid dream as I fell asleep. Haven't been making note of dreams very much in the last few days on account of going through a phase of being too tired on waking and too many mornings having their routines disrupted.

Edit: Somehow nearly forgot an important detail here; While I was in bed trying to fall asleep I did try to incubate dreams about working on my paintings again, my thoughts on this passed fairly early on and I got distracted with other thoughts, getting somewhat vivid music and other sleep cues instead but I suppose the lucid dream did relate directly to the incubation intent. I thought I'd try working on the incubation anyway because of my headache, and it did help to distract me from it.

---

Lucid fragment (on falling asleep):

I didn't notice the transition from wakefulness to dream imagery but I was in a bigger version of our front room. It was day time, my paints and the table I keep them on were there and I remember the big window. I don't think the canvas I've been working on was there. I half realised I was dreaming and walked or ran forward into the room, towards the opposite wall, which is a corner where I keep a bunch of my stuff for painting, but in the dream context it's like there would be a door there or something, even though I couldn't see it yet; I carried out some hand checks as I moved even though I was already in a type of lucidity but the stability started to go pretty quickly and I lost my half-lucid state. Sort of faded away in terms of recall after that.

The only thing I remember after that is a gap of nothingness and then some dreams from the morning, that again I didn't turn into notes.

I am outside, at Frenchman’s. I am on a walk on a small dirt path through a somewhat vegetated hillside (that almost seems familiar from another dream). There is a small creek and a spot where it ponds up around some grey/tan stones and inclined dirt. I stand up on the stones, bracing myself with my hand against a tree. The tree has many branches close together shooting up steeply from the trunk. It’s kind of high and hard to reach and I’m a little unsteady. I am trying to get a good angle for a picture of the view - a peak in the distance surrounded by a hazy sunset of blue and pink. A little bit closer there is an incline with maybe a dozen small waterfalls falling in straight, shimmering veils. I get a picture of just the peak and evening sky and then one including the falls. I now hear some voices nearing. I’m almost self conscious of being in this situation, but then decide to not care. A group of about two passes, and the next two coming up the hill I recognize as Matt and Sara. I’m not really surprised that they are here. We start talking and Matt offers me a beer. I say “if you insist” and am met with a dark 12oz bottle of a German beer. I’m impressed and excited that it’s German. I say “nice”. The bottle has a black label and an off white dragon or other animal. I try it and it is crisp and kind of malty and strong, like an Irish/Scottish style. I think it seems to get stronger with each sip. We continue walking and have now ended up in some larger, multi story house. I think we are the only ones here and that it might be haunted? We explore a little, and it is creepy.

I am outside somewhere, walking. The area feels like a small residential area outside of town. The properties here are large and out of place in the modernity of the rest of the town. This is not detrimental, and they seem completely self functioning. I notice large, wood residences. I am walking through a lot, the ground completely covered in small pieces of wood (maybe 6-8 inches long and 3 inches in diameter). The wood looks slightly old/rotted, one section especially so. I’m taking care with each step, aware and respectful of the fact that this is someone’s property. I am now walking under what seems like a huge, high deck. I notice the vast amount of wood comprising it. This wood too looks old and weathered. Now, I seem to be on a road with just enough elevation to give me a view of all the properties around. It is dim to dark out. There’s a wide and languid river and a large, castle-looking residence on a hill. I take a picture, capturing the moonlit water and the silhouette of the place.

I am walking around downtown, and there seems to be an event going on. I walk into a smaller coffee shop, right behind a group of three girls about my age. They sort of spilt up in the line, so that I am in front of one of them. She is talking sort of excitedly about how she is going to get something with eight shots, as if her caffeine tolerance is just really high. I think one of the others orders and then they try to get me to go. I politely decline, asking if they’re sure, since I thought they got here first. They coax me into going, so I step up to the wooden counter. The barista is kind and friendly, with dirty blond/brown hair and tan skin; she seems familiar from somewhere. I ask for an iced Americano with five shots instead of the four I think it usually comes with. She says she’s already got one started, holding out a larger sized cup that’s full, too full for my preference, of ice. When the finished drink comes out, I take it over to a wooden bench along the wall opposite the building’s front wall and window. The evening light shines golden, drenching the place in a peaceful, languid haze. There are a few others sitting around, quietly keeping to themselves. There is a very laid back vibe, either caused by or enhanced by the lighting. I notice the girl who wanted eight shots is seated to my left, sitting lengthwise with the bench, her knees bent and feet up. She is wearing shorter black athletic shorts and is on her phone. She has two smaller bags on the bench, one placed on top of the other. They start to tilt and then the top one completely falls off, taking the other partially with it. I try but fail to get her attention. Now, I consider trying to talk to her or the other two also, but I don’t really want to bother them, as they don’t need anyone to talk to. I’m not sure what I’m going to do now, except maybe sit here for a while.

I am walking along the sidewalk through what seems like midtown closer to downtown, I think on my way to work. There is a brick building that appears to be a neat looking bookstore through the window. I decide to go in. Inside, it seems like mostly a large, square area with tall, wooden bookshelves. Many books seem to be facing out, their covers on display. I’m surprised and delighted by the selection of books about dreams, spirituality, etc. I am also holding a book that I think I’m returning. I make my way to the counter to wait. The apparent manager is an older middle aged lady that is currently talking with another woman or two. She gives the impression of being very kind and homey. She also has not noticed me or has disregarded me, but I find it hard to fault her as she seems to be in an engaged conversation with the other two. I check my phone for the time (:55?) and know I have to get going. I think I’ll have to come back sometime later.