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African Explorers

Feb. 19th, 2018 | 09:52 am

Who knows when exactly, I found myself in a open room with earthy orange tiled floor.. on a toilet. My female friend sat on a toilet next to me. No doors. No walls. Just open toilets. This was a little awkward, but I figured we were both here for the same reason, so I should just get over it. Then, two of our guy friends showed up in this early morning setting just to chat. They seemed completely unaffected by the situation, so they hung around as I was trying to find a way to keep things discreet. Fun times.

Finally, a non-nightmare!

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Just Nightmare After Nightmare

Feb. 17th, 2018 | 08:57 am

The type of dream that had last night was not abnormal for me, but I do believe that news of recent national events (mass shootings, etc.) and listening to podcasts about after-life theories has affected more than just my conscious brain.

Charlotte was there again, in some capacity; one of her friends was dead or dying. I was in a small sedan in the middle of the forest. The car was floating above the ground (no roads) with an ethereal glow. One of the people in the backseat was dying. An up-close image of their eyes flashed through my mind. They were bright and the image felt sharpened; I could see every microscopic line in their iris. It felt like watching the moment of death, when the soul is leaving the body.

We went into an underground home. The entrance was like a molehill with a door. It was there that we tried to figure out what to do next..

Four people are in a car again, driving fast down a highway. They get hit from behind by a semi-truck. The car keeps moving forward at the same pace, but immediately becomes engulfed by flames. I can see the person in the back left corner screaming and trying to open the car door. This is the same spot where the previous death occurred, the back left corner.

Lastly, one of Molly's students gets picked up from class. Almost immediately afterward, he is robbed and killed by the person who picked him up.

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The Astral, The Living, The Purgatory Planes

Feb. 1st, 2018 | 01:16 pm

From 1/27/18

Last night's dream was quite eerie.
I was brought by someone - a spirit, I believe - to an old, dank hospital. A hospital where people were in-between life and death. But not in the way that we know it; people were simultaneously existing on different planes while still existing together in this hospital. The spirit and I were floating a few feet above the floor. Slowly, walking towards us in this dismal green and white hallway, was Dakota. He was dressed in a loose hospital gown. My stomach dropped as I realized that this meant Dakota was dead. I went towards him. "Oh, Danny, I'm so sorry," I found myself saying several times as I held his arm.

Then, I woke up in the middle of the night, filled with anxiety. I felt that perhaps he did die, and this was his way of trying to tell me. I felt upset and scared (thinking about ANY spirit invading my dreams and personal space - which would not be the first time). Somehow, I fell back to sleep and dreamt further about other dimensions in which I could choose my fate. It was strange, like being in a large carpeted living room with a bunch of random people hanging around, and I would choose who got to be in my space. But that would also determine which plane of existence we would be on. Seemed like there was some fighting going on as well, some sort of mystery about who was missing. Not sure, but the whole thing was more than a little uncomfortable.

After official waking up for the day, reconsidering the dream and how I felt in my half-awake state.. I came to the conclusion that I'm really unsure what my real feelings are on this whole subject and the idea of "spirits" entering my space and dreams. I don't want to dismiss the feeling, but logic tells me I should. Who knows..

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Project Bus Heist

Feb. 1st, 2018 | 01:08 pm

From 1/24/18

At some point, I'm working with an architect firm that is botching everything up. I'll put this at the beginning since it relates to NOTHING else..
I'm in a large, open classroom with many large, white art desks. I have an assigned partner, but I have come in late. Laura Adams stayed in my place until I arrived, then left shortly after. We are all working on constructing wearable art, very Project Runway like. Before I really even have a chance to begin, I find myself experiencing some issues with my bodily functions. Joy. I sprint off to the bathroom. For some reason, I am now trying to pull small board shorts over long basketball shorts. Needless to say, it's not working out.
Sometime after emerging from the bathroom, my environment changes to a tour bus. Or perhaps I'm on a class trip. Whatever it is, there are many people here with me. I quickly come to understand that there is some sort of heist happening. I'm now holding onto the exterior rails of the bus for dear life, inching my way around the outskirts as we barrel down the highway. I'm trying to catch the perpetrator.

Unfortunately, I know exactly why I'm having such an embarrassing and stressful dream. Real life woes! Yuck.

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Disney Dreaming

Feb. 1st, 2018 | 12:57 pm

From 1/21/18

Here I am in my happy place with my good friend Will. We're in Disney World. At this time, we're excitedly running around the Animal Kingdom. As we pass by one of the many gift shops, we see Tammy, younger Thurston (around 8 years old), and Anton inside the store. Tammy was excited to see me. She grabbed me and pulled me along with them while quickly gabbing about everything that was going on. They rushed me towards their next ride. It was this amazing water display. It was clear, dark water but the setting was swamp-like with cypress trees and an old shack on the water. We watched as the water swelled, rising up to become it's own entity. It created shapes that rose several stories high. It was an overwhelming almost scary experience watching it move in this darkly lit environment. Beautiful.

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Marine Savannah

Feb. 1st, 2018 | 12:51 pm

From 1/19/18
I was on a bike when it began to pour down rain. I was in what looked like Savannah as a marine town - all industrial buildings used for fishing boats, etc. I ran off to find shelter. I quickly found someone that I sort of knew (though didn't like all too much) who had a furniture store in a large warehouse. Many people had run inside of it for cover. By this time, the rain had mostly calmed. I went around back to look at the bay, considering if I just wanted to cross it. I looked out to see a tornado moving smoothly across the water. Perhaps, that idea wouldn't work. So, I ran around the perimeter of an industrial courthouse. Before I passed the front door, someone stepped out. Tim-O. He walked a few feet before turning around and finding out that it was me behind him. He didn't want to talk to me, but he did want to prove something to me. He veered off to find someone he knew - to do something stupid to them or inflict pain. Mat Cicarella was there, between all of the warehouses, so Tim went off to bother him. I didn't really want to be a part of this, so I was looking for another way back. I walked through a warehouse where a class was being taught. It was what looked like a combination of woodworking and self-defense for women. Pretty cool. I quickly passed through and out of the back door.

The following nights, the parts of my dreams that I remembered were quite short.

One was about Tommy Kastner, Eric Koch, and I at a videogame party. Pretty tame. It was a peaceful, happy dream.

Another was about Mom and I searching for an open Dunkin Donuts in a desolate town. Not too far off from real life.

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Attention Shoppers, the Movie is Now Starting

Jan. 17th, 2018 | 03:06 pm

Last night's dream..

Irene and Kenny are moving. Confusedly, I think that I'm going with them - to help, at least. I quickly pack my bag and Shaye's, loading them into their truck amongst all of their other belongings. Then back up and down the stairs of this old, white, tall beach house that they're still living in. Eventually, they let me know that I'm not coming with them. And they leave.. Sometime later I realize that I left the bags in their truck. I start on a journey towards their new destination. [When I'm traveling, my mind always see's a map], I'm watching myself on it and it looks like we're heading towards Florida (although, there are no distinguishing names or landmarks on this map). Reece is with me. I believe that Shaye is too. We find Irene and Kenny on the road, they're in a camper now. We catch up with them, talking from our vehicles, across lanes. We both stop long enough for me to go through and get the bags. I had brought more bags with me and now I was consolidating 5 bags into one mega, red suitcase. We wished them well and on their way. We were going to miss them.

I'm shopping around a department store and thinking about the fact that I never run into anyone that I know now that I'm off on the weekends [nearly empty shopping malls are recurring in my dreams]. I watch a family climb a flight of clear glass stairs, bright morning light coming through all of the panes. Feels like the Saturday before Easter. I think I came here with my family, and now I'm just browsing aimlessly. I come to a section of all tank tops. Someone tells me that there's actually a free bag of donated clothes if I would rather look through that. For some reason, I grab the bag, dump it out on top of the tank top display and start sorting. Right at this moment, a slew of women come by to peruse the tank tops - now that they're under this pile of clothes. I try to grab it all in one heap and move it..

I'm with my mom and Shaye, outside in the snow, watching a video in-progress (I say "in-progress" instead of being made because it seems that this was somehow a live replay - like we were existing in the video replay). Shaye was the cinematographer for this Christmas scene. Music started, everything was beautifully lit, and a small (magical?) explosion happened from the Christmas tree at the front corner of the yard and rolled to the middle where the sidewalk began. The scene went by so fast. My mom kinda shrugged like "okay, that's it..?" My grandmother chimed in and said how hard Shaye worked and how great it looked. I commented too as I was walking up the snowy path to the house about how long it can take to film a scene that may only turn out to be 30 seconds long - I remembered from the "James in the movies" days. We walked up to the house with the deep purple door and oversized brass numbers in the center. My mom walked in and promptly shut me out. "I hate pink. I hate that color pink. You can't come in while you're wearing it." Looking down I notice that I'm wearing a shirt with a pale, toned pink patch. "It reminds me of James and I miss him," she said to me while staring in the other direction. At this point, I realize that I can just push the door open. I walk into a small carpeted foyer. Aunt Ayla and Mom are standing there. They show me into the following room - a living room that somewhat resembles a 70's lounge. Uncle Jack sits in a chair in the corner - he's looking thin and healthy. Mary is on the couch, and a few teenage boys are hanging out watching the movie too (I think it's Shaye's movie again). I sit in the middle of the couch with the open bag of Cheetos that I'm now sharing. Mary is very friendly, and much more vibrant than usual. The movie isn't working, but the T.V. is playing music with an animated show of ambiguous designs that occur rhythmically with the music (like the windows music player, circa 2000). Uncle Jack has to take the one boy home. As they leave, we are discussing something.. either that they can't see, and/or that they don't have access to any money. The boy left his check on the couch, so I run out of the tent-covered house to the car. I'm cautious, as the car is sheathed too and I want to make sure they don't drive away as I'm reaching towards it. I manage to hand it to them. Mission completed.

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Vinnies in Miami

Jan. 16th, 2018 | 03:40 pm

Dream from 1/9/18

It's always difficult to remember which portion of the story came first.. but I think it was when I was sitting in a living room with two friends..

Sandy Skeens (a long time friend from Myrtle Beach) was taking art lessons from me on Saturdays. She was asking if we were on for this Saturday.
"I'm available!" I said.
She scrunched up her face and replied,
"Do we have to do this Saturday?"
"Of course not."
[I'm always torn when it comes to lessons. I love working one-on-one, creating art with someone else, teaching them something new, and learning from their experience. It's very enriching. But! My introverted nature always pushes me to just stay home as it considers all of the ways in which this situation could go wrong (and many times, it has).]

Now, I think that I'm at a party. It's pretty low key. Family party? Stoner party? Something small. I'm wandering around trying to find out the name of Curtis Parker's dog. His family dog. A black lab. I'm asking around, but everyone only gives me the answer to his dog that is currently running around the house. This is some sort of thing that I need to prove to myself - his name is on the tip of my tongue and it's making me crazy that I can't remember..

Eventually, I'm standing with a few people at tall table, eating thick potato chips. One of the servers comes by and starts consolidating them by taking them all from the main plate and dumping them onto one person's plate. I can't get the words out that we're still eating and now these are all sort of contaminated by being mixed in with this person's remaining food. Everyone else is just staring as well, seemingly thinking the same thing. Not a typical thing for a server to do..

Party foul. Party's over.

Now, I'm at Vinnies. I seem to be here for no real reason but to kill time and find an excuse to see everyone. I'm having a good time, but suddenly have to go. I leave and begin walking down Montgomery Street. I'm at the courthouse (which looks more like Forsyth Park) when Henry (who works at the Sentient Bean) races by on his bike, towards Vinnies. I recognize him (just as being a Vinnies patron). As he rides by, something shoots off of his bike, like a clothespin snapping, and into the park. I keep walking, but then decide to go check because I can probably catch him (since he's most likely going to Vinnies). I walk over to find it and discover that it's a half-eaten Toberlone bar. Definitely worth keeping (and I can't eat it, since I'm on my diet). So, I start walking back towards Vinnies. I walk inside where I think Vinnies is, but the layout is different. It feels a bit like a biker bar. I wander through the narrow bar, up to the second, then the third floor. I don't see Henry or anyone else that I know. I walk back down to the second floor where three servers are hanging out and ask
"Is this Vinnies?"
"Vinnies? That place does need a makeover, but this isn't it."
"Yeah, and I heard they're getting one too. City ordinance."
"I'll take you there," one of them volunteers.
It takes me a minute, but I recognize them from Curtis Parker's party. We start traveling by car (though it feels like rollerblades) through the city. It looks and feels like Miami. I'm realizing that I somehow walked really far off the beaten path, because it's taking a lonnnggg time to get there..

After this, I can see a nice car. Maybe a Bentley? A glass bubble covered the grill. It was getting smashed. Seemed like it happened in that moment, but I'm not sure by who. We were now replacing the glass bubble. A dog was there. Somehow the discussion or thought came up (which may have been a influence from the dog) about getting thrown through the glass. A terrible thought.

This was the dog from the party. Everything came full circle. Was this the beginning or the end? And what the hell happened to that Toberlone bar?!

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Dream Bar Hopping

Jan. 16th, 2018 | 03:14 pm

Dream from 1/8/18 (Shaye's birthday)

A foggy beginning; I'm at some sort of event with a few people that I know. Sean's sister, Rikki (though it didn't look quite like her), suggests that we leave and go to a different bar. So we do. We're driving around this city which is heavily forrested. I'm now looking down on the city from an aerial view at night. There is an 8-pointed star-shaped lake in the center with a small island in the middle of it.

I'm back to the viewpoint of being in my car, but my friend, Christy Jones, is driving us. And very erratically. She drives us down a windy, hilly dirt path, through the trees, and into an open field by accident (I recall doing something very similar to this sometime earlier).

Guess I must have been drunk, because how we got to the next bar is a blur. Now, I'm sitting at a table with six other people; I remember these people from my high school, but we never interacted. The girls were the same. Still bitchy. The guys were sort of sweet. The common theme was that everyone kinda looked like shit. They ordered food and drinks, drunkenly forgot about the food, got up, and walked off. Sean, myself and one other person started talking after they left about how everyone fell into those age-old stereotypes. For no reason, I got up and moved to an empty table nearby with a friend. We watched as the staff delivered the food to an empty table. We offered to hold their place until they came back for their food, but some other people came in to scoop up the table. Which they did. In fact, two people sat right on top of me (the chair turned into more of a booth). I sat behind this couple for awhile, listening and sometimes joining into conversation. Until one of the guys jokingly decided to give me the boot. The group picked me up, carried me to the other room (where a large, undressed mattress was), and threw me down on it. A few of the people at this table thought this was a distasteful joke and came over to get me.

It wasn't a particularly interesting dream, but it was vivid. AND.. I made lot of friends :)

It's only been -5 months since I stopped waiting tables, but somehow it feels like it's been much longer. I almost don't feel like it was part of my life, until I go out to eat. Then, a flood of specific memories pop into my head. Some are rather uninteresting, some funny, and once in a while there's one that still gets me heated. All this to say that I think all of this was very fresh on my mind before falling asleep. My brain chose to go with the most generic of memories, but at least it wasn't a work stress dream! Woo!

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Washington & Lincoln

Jan. 14th, 2015 | 12:54 pm
location: home
mood: accomplished

I wish that I wrote this one down immediately. It is now two days later. But what's still fresh in my mind, I want to record. The beginning of the dream that I remember started with Abraham Lincoln. We were simply spending time together. When the next part of the dream did a segue way to George Washington and his sons.. I remember being with him and his eldest son in a parking garage. Although it was modern day, they were dressed appropriately for their time. His son was around 16, they were having somewhat of a heated discussion when George walked across the desolate, underground parking garage lot and picked up a pair of large, wide khaki shorts. "They're called Prick Pants" he told his son. This was to indicate the unsavory sort of character who wears them, not the more obvious meaning.

Another strange dream that I've remembered to actually record. More have certainly happened, though some things should stay in the vault..

<3 T

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