3/10/2023 -
I'm in this dream state where my entire consciousness becomes a guitar finger picking cyclone. It's this very particular technique where I use 2 or 3 fingers and strum multiple strings in a downward motion playing triplets as rapidly as possible. Here I'm shown how I can use it to suck myself into a mind vortex. Again, in this state all I am is the motion of the fingers and the sound it's creating, which feels like a magnetic blue tightly controlled low murmuring sonic pleasure hurricane. It's certainly a vibe.
The next morning, the more I'm contemplating it the more I'm like, well, I am going to record some guitar solos tomorrow, I could certainly throw some of that action into the mix. It is in fact a cool effect.
Later in the night I'm at this outdoor barbeque party that has a very peculiar culture that it's going to take me a minute to even explain. Even though it's a party of I'd say at least 50 people, like 10 total are chosen to participate in this odd prank competition. Teams are assigned randomly and you're then also given a team to randomly target. The goal is that at some point during the party you're supposed to stop and try and hurl food at the target you were assigned. And you can't like chase them down either, you have to just stop where you are and try to pelt them with food from the barbeque spread. They're allowed to run and dodge once you go into your throwing motion but you have to throw from wherever you started it. Yeah, that specific.
What's also ridiculous about this is that it isn't easy to accomplish as everyone at the party knows this is a possibility so they're constantly on edge and expecting it. We watch roughly 5 people fail to pelt their targets with BBQ eats as their potential victims easily dodge. They were expecting it the entire time. It's hard to surprise people who are expecting that you're going to try to surprise them I suppose.
I'm a participant and I've been paired up with this tall darker skinned sort of average looking black guy with a short tight fade wearing a plain white t-shirt (strange choice for a food fight party) and black pants. He has a plan. We're supposed to be targeting these two teenagers who I get the impression are brother and sister. He's going to pretend like he's working the grill and serve up a plate with several burgers with all the fixings, then leave them on this wooden ledge. I'm then going to walk by looking like I'm completely uninvolved with this plate of cooked beef, only to suddenly pick it up and calculatedly chuck it across the party at the kids. It's not an easy throw as they're pretty far away but doable I suppose. I'm sort of on the fence as I hate pranks but whatever, when in Rome.
He executes his half of the plan and I start to walk over to the burgers and when I do, I become sort of possessed. I know that if pick up the plate and throw it at the exact second I am possessed with this feeling that it will work perfectly and so I act on this instinct. As I throw the plate I'm now seeing from the perspective of the flying food. Also, I'm transforming into a giant slightly melted slice of American cheese as I'm hurtling through the air and this is all happening in slow motion.
Except that I can also feel myself in my body marveling at the perfection in my follow through. I know I nailed this shit and sure enough, the giant piece of cheese somehow hits them both directly, covering them nearly head to toe in melted yellow foodstuff.
I immediately get the impression that precision strikes like this very rarely land in this absolutely nonsensical form of food prank competition sport.
"Holy shit!"
I think to myself and actually go to sort of apologize to my partner in crime as he had turned his back and didn't even get to witness his devious plan play out to perfection. He's totally cool with it but in contemplating this I start thinking about why I didn't wait until he was watching.
Now I'm in like a replay loop watching the action unfold from a third person perspective looking at myself from behind. It goes backwards and forwards through the precision throw multiple times and you can not only see the moment I got possessed, you can feel it too. It's like a psychic neural food throwing replay interface because of course it is. I was tapping into a string of living energy. In the zone. This is also a tie in to last night's dream and the finger picking cyclone. The best musicians put themselves in these sort of peak intuition zones, just like athletes.
I pull out of this teachable revelation because my partner's telling me these teens are now a bit pissed at me. I go to try and calm them down and they corner me in this dark room. They're beating on me but I can barely even feel their blows. After a while though I'm like:
"Ok, but you're going to have to stop or I'm actually going to kick your ass!"
They then mock my has been status as a writer and with this I walk down a surrealist psychic mind tunnel.
"Who cares, the whole point was that I was developing my skills as a sorcerer, which I'm sort of kicking ass at I might point out."
As I say this I start to realize that I'm dreaming and also that I'm finally starting to get it. The lucidity fades though and I'm now explaining to them that the whole thing wasn't even my idea, which is re-iterated by the guy who cooked the burgers.
That's all I remember from that scene but later in the night I'm being driven through this swanky neighborhood of Seattle that I now realize I've constructed for myself on the astral plane. I'm being driven by two older gentlemen in a Mercedes Benz, which makes it even more peculiar. I've been here a bunch in my dream life but what's different is that this time it had a name, which of course I forgot. I believe it was Lipis or Lipin or something but I can't fully back either of those conclusions in a waking state, although the more I thought about it the next day, the more I realized that it's basically exactly where Ballard would be but up on a mountain overlooking downtown. Sort of like Magnolia in a way but further northwest and even more elevated. I see the sign and tell the two older men driving that I don't get out here much, which they both find rather surprising. Like, why would you live in Seattle if you weren't going to frequent the Lipin district? Why indeed.
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