12/27/2023 –
As I’m pulling out of a dream into a waking state, I’m chatting with someone and the last thing I say is:
“Really? The main thing I remember about you are the delicious crackers and the fact that you were aborted.”
That must have been an odd conversation. For the next several hours, I’m floating on top of these colorful casino like game device/portals, that I keep periodically diving into. Eventually this leads to an experience where I’m in this black hole with faint swirling white flourishes. While I’m floating through this black tunnel I’m told that there are often boring patches you go through while living human lives and you just have to power through them. It’s a nice sentiment but at this point, I’m 46 years old and the boring patch of my life I’ve had to power through has lasted roughly 46 years.
Later a vision of a man sitting on a bed with his head completely wrapped in colorful blankets. Down the road this shifts to a man with white blankets covering his head. Then back to the colored ones when I’m meditating later in the morning. I believe this is a metaphor for how we walk through our lives completely blind or possibly how some people have wild dream lives and others don’t. A lot of times dream metaphors are pretty obvious but I don’t entirely get this one.
12/28/2023 –
As I’m pulling out of a sleep state I’m left with the phrase.
“An AI powered gaming cloud.”
OK then. In the dream world I’m driving around in what seems like a green transforming car. I park it at this particular intersection on Aurora avenue, then get out and realize I parked way too far away from where I was headed. Like, why would I want to walk that far? I’m not sure why I did this but as I’m heading back to my car I run into my old skeezy ass pot dealer, who mentions to me that he’s out of weed and wonders if I could pick some up for him from my guy. No probs I tell him.
I eventually get back in my transforming car and hit my destination, which is a party in a modest house in Ballard on a sunny day. At one point a group of about 5 of us are all assembling to get baked in the kitchen and one of the long haired dudes also mentions that he’s running low on weed and wonders if I can grab him some when I talk to my guy. I’m cool with it and am kind of weirded out by the fact that I’ve now been asked to score weed for people for the second time in a couple hours. So we’re sitting there smoking when another one of the dudes casually mentions:
“Or you could just buy it at the store.”
Suddenly the reality that marijuana is legal hits all of us and we’re like:
“Oh yeah. How the hell did we just forget that exactly?”
We leave the house party and a group of about 10 of us are now just chilling in this huge grassy field in front of what seems like a church. My old sketchy pot dealer has joined us and at some point we see this group of developmentally disabled women entering the park on the other side. All of these women are overweight, look the same, and are all dressed roughly the same honestly. They’re all pear shaped with black curly hair chin length hair wearing these maroon velvet jumpsuits. Anyway, the old sketchy pot dealer for unknown reasons runs across the field to fuck with them and I am mortified. Like:
“Oh god, what the fuck are you doing? Why?”
I’m so embarrassed by his behavior even though honestly I’m not even sure what he’s up to entirely and what is he up to? Well, he somehow incited all these women to attack these normal looking other women, who are trying to both defend themselves and diffuse the situation at the same time. One is lying on her back trying to kick the woman with the red velvet jumpsuit away.
Because of all this I head across the street to this other church. I am trying to get as far away from the spectacle this douche has incited as possible and yet in doing so, I start wondering what the fuck I’m looking at exactly. What are these enormous brick church like structures? Are they even churches? Probably the Invisible College.
I wake up contemplating the metaphor. One, I did in fact associate with some shady ass people back in the day simply to buy weed, because of its illegality. Two, as mentioned, that pot dealer was skeezy as hell. Very good looking dude who treated women like trash but they of course loved him because you know, he was very good looking. Openly superficial as fuck. I’m sure him playfully turning these unattractive overweight women against the pretty ones just for fun wasn’t just random dream imagery.
12/29/2023 –
This whole experience was amazingly long and winding and here’s what I remember. I’m driving down Aurora Avenue up near Shoreline when I decide to park my car and take the bus instead. This woman I used to know through the Seattle psych rock scene has this badass blue retro-futuristic looking bus with pink and purple aquatic floral patterns on it and I happily board the thing.
Everything’s going groovy on the freaky bus for a while but right before we make it downtown, it just suddenly flattens into the ground. There’s no wreck or anything, it’s almost like rather than blowing a tire, the entire psychic bus deflates in a funky cartoon animation sequence.
We’re all just sort of standing on top of it and we don’t know what to do, so we start wandering around west Belltown near the Seattle Center. We end up shopping/killing time in this mall for quite a bit before finally deciding we want to hit a strip club. Why? If I had to guess it’d involve me going to a strip club in Cyberpunk 2077 before I went to bed.
So we get into this club and we’re walking up to the host table when we hear the cops pulling into the parking lot. What the fuck? I suddenly get an impression downloaded into my mind that this joint was also running an illegal escort service out of it. I can see the secret red light back hallway with bead covered doors. Everyone starts running out the front and it’s this super awkward thing where just by happenstance I basically run right into the arms of a couple of cops because as having just walked in, I was one of the first to run out. Nearly everyone else gets away because of my sacrifice and they literally tell me that I’m the face they’re going to put on this incident purely for PR purposes.
Oh Jesus Christ. I already have a criminal record. This shit might get me fired from my job. What a goddamn disaster. Coming to this joint wasn’t even my idea in the first place. I was just going along with what the people I was hanging out with wanted to do, including my wife. I’ve been to strip clubs a total of like twice in my entire adult life. I’m actually trying to gain sympathy with the cop by telling him that I was just in a bus that mysteriously flattened itself in the middle of 99 earlier in the day. Like, you know this is bullshit. I was 1 of like 200 people there and I hadn’t even paid my cover yet. You’re going to make an example out of me? Why?
I get the vibe my persuasion attempt doesn’t work but I genuinely don’t know because the next thing I recall I’m back in my childhood home in Ohio. It’s Christmas time and my dad is planning this Die Hard film marathon as entertainment for all our relatives in the basement. I am so pissed off about this it’s unreal but I tell myself I can do it.
I head downstairs which is now this home movie theater. It’s dark, everyone’s got their popcorn and the show is ready to start. I begin walking to my spot in the right corner of roughly the 3rd row but I can’t.
“No. Fuck this. I hate everything about this bullshit. I just watched the first Die Hard last Christmas and I don’t even like it. Hyper violent trash and Christ, you want me to sit around and watch 5 of these things?”
I storm out. The feeling of supreme boredom is absolutely unbearable and yet, as I’m walking back up the stairs to my bedroom I know I don’t actually have anything else to do during this Holiday break. It’s insufferable boredom either way but I guess this way I’m choosing my insufferable boredom. The main point is, everyone else is super jazzed about the Die Hard marathon. My anger comes from not understanding the quotidian mind because I live in far out space jazz hyper depressive-ville.
The next thing I know I’m walking into this stylish hipster strip club like environment and the owner pulls me aside immediately. They need extra help and he wants me to work for them. I have absolutely no clue why this is happening and I’m baffled but for some reason go along with it. He’s really busy and there’s no time to train me so he immediately throws me at the door taking cash and checking ID’s. Should be pretty straightforward but I mean wow is this place fucking packed. Just wall to wall people and that’s what’s crazy. It was supposed to have sex club type vibes but it also just doesn’t have those vibes at all. Most people are dressed up to the hilt and again they just keep heading in.
Eventually the door has mostly cooled off and I’m just standing there with nothing to do but I know this isn’t right. The place is beyond jam packed and there’s gotta be a million things I could be helping with but the owner who set me up with door duty is nowhere to be found to provide any direction. So I’m just awkwardly twiddling my thumbs when another guy comes out and is like.
“Dude, you can’t just be standing there when the owner gets back or he’ll be pissed. We gotta find you something else to do.”
The guy then whisks me away and honestly, I don’t think he actually finds me anything productive to do, he just gets me out of plain view so I can pretend like I’m working. I do get to witness how absolutely batshit breakneck the pace is in this place though. It’s a lot and I’m not digging the vibage at all. I very much have a:
“Fuck all of you people. I never wanted to work here in the first place.”
Attitude to it all as I’m heading out angrily at the end of the night. I’m also noticing that even though we were working at a breakneck pace, the ridiculous rush only lasted about 4 hours total. That makes it a little more bearable but the main reason I’m contemplating this has to do with me wondering how the fuck you’re making any real money. No way I’m getting full time benefits in a sitch like this. I love how our society is so toxic that this is what I find myself considering in my damn dreams.
But somehow now I’m in a large second floor white walled window filled conference room with a cool view of an industrial area of the city. There’s a scruffy looking younger dude sitting across from me looking like he just rolled out of bed and he’s explaining to me that I can start at a rank quite a bit higher than most of the people that work at this club ever even get to. Also, this is a gig that most people really really want. He’s pitching me and I immediately ask:
“So a lot of these people have been grinding at this place for years and years and I’d just start at a level quite a bit ahead of them?”
Yes. I can’t imagine that’s going to be super popular and I do not know what to think about any of this. Just last night I was telling all these people to go fuck themselves.
Also, while you're here, do you like psychedelic industrial noise rock? Of course you do!
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