Category Archives: Dreams

What Changes Around Us

*A stream of consciousness*

Normally, I can sleep soundly and comfortably on a nightly basis, free of the anxieties and worries of the things outside my control. However, last Tuesday night, I faced a sleepless night. It was my first sleepless night since the riots over a month ago.

It was as if the wall that contains and orders my thoughts cracked and released an unconscious flood into my conscious mind. Noises that I usually sleep through jostled me awake. My wife had to move to the guest room because I was awake, rolling around in bed, walking around, checking my phone and generally disturbing her. Memories, imaginings, slogans and worries bubbled over me like warm popcorn popping and lifting me out of my slumber.

I thought of my childhood. I thought of people that I knew. I thought of when I knew them, how they are doing now, and if they are different people now from when I saw them last. I pondered the nature of time. I thought of the difference between now and other key years of my life like 2017, 2016, 2013, 2012, 2011, 2009, 2008, 2004, 2002, 2000, 1997, 1993, 1991, 1989, 1988 and on back through time. What can I carry with me from the years of the Trump presidency that I never had before? What is the true nature of the country I live in?

Now that I am several days removed from this event, what I recall is how much I live inside of my own head. Is this why I am relatively untroubled by this era of mass isolation? Does living in our own heads help explain the mass hysteria that is happening right now?

I’ve been doing more cooking in 2020 then I have in the previous 15 years. I’ve made some personal culinary discoveries, like making fried chicken. It has been a tasty imprisonment, but the cost of cooking for myself is not much cheaper than the fast food I used to eat. My wife and I have not eaten fast food since March.

Half the year was spent unemployed, clambering up through the masses to await a job offer which was never given. It is a dating game for money stakes; a slow starvation of skills wasting away. I may be working now, but in fundamental way, I don’t understand what work needs to be done anymore for anyone.

These are what I think are the great revelations of 2020 – we can live without inane busywork. Universal income works in the short-term. Ample credit does not work without satisfactory income. The disenfranchised have a right to be angry, but as a species, we continue to struggle to find constructive uses for our anger.

I’m interested in seeing what happens to the structure of the United States in the second half of this year. We have an election, but will the transition of power go smoothly? How will employer-sponsored healthcare survive when millions do not have a job? Will there be a tsunami of homelessness once enhanced unemployment ends? What music will come from this era?

Riot Dream – French Take Over MIA

            Last night, I stayed up all night watching live-streams of my city burning from the riots in response to the death of George Floyd. I grew up in Minneapolis. I frequently went to all of the places that burned down last night, even as recently as before the pandemic lockdowns. I stayed up all night fearing that looters would come to my neighborhood and target my home next. I remember the L.A. riots of the 1990s, and how they lasted for several days, and I hope the same is not going to play out in Minneapolis. It is under this background, that I had the below dream –


I dreamt that the next day after the riots (tonight actually), that several French-American citizens, armed with assault and sniper rifles, took over the Minneapolis Institute of Arts after sundown, intent on protect the priceless French Art at the museum. The riots started up again after dark. Anyone that approached the museum doors or windows are shot by the Frenchmen. Bodies piled up on the steps and by the museum doors of protester and looter alike. In one case, a looter lit a Molotov cocktail and a French sniper shot the bottle as the looter was raising it up to throw, igniting the flammable liquid and burning the suspect/victim to death on the lawn. The French raised the flag of France over the Minneapolis Institute of Arts overnight as a symbol of national pride.

As dawn broke, there were between 15-20 people killed and an unknown number of people wounded. The museum only suffered exterior damage. The French-American citizens release a statement in French online that is translated by the press, “We are here as French patriots, protecting the pride of France. These artworks are priceless and we would gladly give our lives for our country and its heritage. We call upon all French patriots to come to Minneapolis and protect our treasures from these vandals. Vive le France!” All of the French nationals surrendered peacefully to the Minneapolis Police Department after they released their statement. They were charged with rebellion and terrorism.

In response, French special forces kidnap the U.S. Secretary of State, Mike Pompeo, who is touring Europe on official U.S. business. The French government holds Pompeo hostage, charging him with war crimes, and demands that the United States release the French nationals, return the French art treasures, and defend the Minneapolis Institute of Arts as if it were the 3rd Precinct. Trump becomes belligerent at the actions of France, but the world sides with France as France commits to further aggression, including possible acts of war, as the sun sets. That is when my dream ends.


Clearly, after watching protests escalate to riots, my mind worried that this would escalate to an international incident.

Antarctic Dream

Last night I dreamt that Desi and I were on a vacation to Antarctica during the southern summer. I remember the flight down there beginning at night, but it was day when we arrived – the 24 hour day. We flew down to McMurdo. From there we decided to a bus to a tourist town that was sheltered by the wind by some mountains and had a good view of the ocean through a bay. There was a strange method for obtaining a bus ticket. When I went to the ticket window, the person behind the desk directed me to an arcade game. The arcade was a multi-game arcade and, buried amongst the game choices, was the option to buy a bus ticket. I selected it and used my credit card to complete the transaction. The bus ride seemed to take about an hour or two.

This town was built in a 1900s Alaskan Klondike style, even though no such town existed in history. There were tourists from all over the world visiting. Desi and I toured the town and saw some attractions, including science displays and wildlife. There was even an X-Games event with skateboards and bicycles happening by the bay, where small glaciers floated past.

As our visit was coming to an end, Desi and I began making our way back to the bus depot. As we started walking back from the X-Games event, I looked up at the mountains. I saw an avalanche rolling down the mountain. I pointed it out to Desi and pulled out my phone to snap a picture. We expected the avalanche to stop at the end of town. When I snapped my photo, the leading houses were already engulfed and the avalanche was travelling down the street right for us!

I grabbed Desi’s hand and we ran to the left, one street over, along the bay and in the direction of the bus depot. In crossing that street, it looked somewhat clear, until the avalanche burst through the boulevard pine trees about 5 blocks away. We ran another block, but Desi was slowing down because of her feet. I slowed down and stayed side by side with her, my hand on her waist to guide her faster. We crossed the next street and the avalanche was only 1 block away. A slurry of waistdeep snow was unstoppably coming for us. We made it to a 2.5 story house and Desi ran up the stairs when the snow began hitting my legs. I was holding up against the avalanche, but the snow kept getting higher and higher. Desi was crying and holding our her hand to me, but I yelled to her, “No! Get up the stairs!”

The snow finally stopped. I was along the house, only a few feet away from the stairs, in chest deep snow. I crawled to the stairs and entered the house. It was dark and I met Desi again in the stairwell. We embraced and comforted eachother, drying our tears. I took off some layers, kicked off the snow, and bundled up again. We exited the house to make our way to the bus station. The town was in a panic from the avalanche. When we arrived at the bus station, I had Desi wait in the outdoor warming area while I tried to get the tickets.

The bus station was crowded and the line was held up by someone not figuring out how to use the arcade bus ticket system. Luckily, most of the people already had their ticket, but I was really losing patience with this youngster trying to use the arcade and not figuring out how to get a ticket. Right when he was done, I moved to the front of the line, cutting someone off and saying, “Out of the way. By the time you figure this out, it’ll be dark. I can get my ticket fast and be out of here in no time.”

I was about to start a fight. These guys looked like there were from the X-Games, and he was backed up by his bros, so I made an offer, “Three bucks says I can get my ticket faster than you.” He took on my bet. What I failed to realize was that, while the other arcade was a 2-person player arcade, this one was 4-person arcade. The selection was grayed out unless all 4 kiosks were in use. The bros decided to select a snowmobiling game while I was trying to get the bus tickets. I was forced to play. When they won the snowmobiling race, complete with making electronic jumps and shortcuts, they got their tickets. By then, the terminal was empty because I had missed the bus and I had just lost the bet.

I returned to Desi. It had gotten dark outside, but I think it was because the sun had passed behind the mountains. The bus terminal was empty, but there was a sales person or manager up the block at the terminal where we arrived. Desi and I stole (ahem, borrowed) the bikes from the X-Game bros when they weren’t paying attention (playing another arcade game) and we peddled up the block to the other terminal.

Thus, I began haggling with the manager. There were going to be no more buses out of the town. The next option out was to take a hydrofoil, but that was heading in the wrong direction up the coast. I didn’t realize how late it truly was. I was going to miss my morning flight out of McMurdo. The flight out from the other destination, which was really the only option, was going to send me to Iceland, but I would need to figure out how to get home from there. This was the end of the Antarctic tourist season and, if I missed my flights, I risked spending the winter on this harsh continent. It was at that point that I woke up.

Moving On Dream

Last night, I dreamt that I returned to my old apartment in Uptown. It was an autumn day and the sun shined warmly in my south-facing apartment. My old apartment was a 1950s style efficiency with a walk-in closet that you had to enter to get to the large bathroom with pink wall tile, aluminum florescent mirror lights, and white paint. There was a little kitchenette to the southwest corner where you would stand in one place to cook or do dishes. Counter space was at a premium, but you could shut the door behind yourself and hide in the kitchen-closet. The main living space felt large when you entered it, with its wood floors and large windows across the room, which took up over half the wall. The 2-seater cloth couch, or loveseat, sat across a faux pearl aluminum table, which fit the 1950s motif. I have many happy memories of this place.


In my dream, I came home to my apartment, but it was cluttered, so I set about cleaning and organizing the place. I collected the laundry, made the bed and cleaned the kitchenette. The refrigerator was mostly empty except for a jug of milk and condiments. When I opened the overhead cabinets, I was surprised to discover three rotisserie chickens! I was also surprised that they didn’t smell. I took them down, packed them into the garbage, and turned to take out the garbage when my landlord entered with two young women and a short guy around 19 or 20. One woman was a wavey-haired blond and the other a short-haired brunette.


“Hello?” I said, “Can I help you? What’s going on?”

“We should be asking you that,” the blond woman said, “You’re in our apartment.”

I felt very confused, and must have looked the part, because the tension left the room. I plaintively said, “But I’ve been paying rent on this place for lo these many months.”

I looked to my landlord and he slightly shook his head no.

“Well… I cleaned the place…”

The young man nodded in approval, thankful that he didn’t have to do it.


I looked out the kitchen window and watched the sun set in the southwest, casting long autumn shadows as the twinkles of late summer left the world. Holding a garbage bag of rotting chicken, I said, “I guess it’s true. I don’t live here anymore. You can have your apartment back.”


I walked through the crowd, stepped outside the apartment, crossed the hall to the back entrance, and threw away the garbage for the new tenants of my old apartment. I lingered by the dumpster and watched the sky darken to shades of purple and dark blue as the sun took its warm reds and oranges with her. The landlord was standing at the door, watching sternly. I crossed the side yard to the front sidewalk as I left my apartment forever.




I think what brought on this dream was the fact that I was listening to my favorite band (Oxford Collapse) yesterday on the drive home from visiting my family for Christmas. I listened to them for over an hour, which was something that I hadn’t done in a long time. Their music was an anthem of that time.


My life is drastically different now. My girlfriend just moved in with me last week, I’ve owned a house for about 5 years, I have a functioning automobile and I live and work in the suburbs. I am a manager now, not a part-time cashier or aspiring professional. The Minneapolis of 2007 is long gone and a different city has replaced it. One infested with 5-story condo/apartment developments, bicycle-only roads, and scarce parking.


I think this was an important dream to have. It is an important life moment. The former things have passed away. I am a new person in a new setting, where yesterday’s future has passed and I have something new to look forward to, new things that the old me could scarcely imagine. Even in my current state, I can hardly imagine them now, even though it is the near future, rather than distant future. I feel surprised that my hard work has yielded success and I feel grateful for it.


I guess it’s true. I don’t live there anymore. They can have their apartment back.

Fallout Zombie Dream

Last night, I dreamt that my Dad, step-mom Nora, and sister Rose were altogether and that we were with my Dad as he was shopping for space in an atomic bomb proof vault. The location was beneath a large hotel, complete with conference rooms. My Dad was completing his purchase when the alarm went off, indicating an attack. But I knew something that my family didn’t. There was no attack, it was all part of a survival experiment.

I knew this because I had a dream-memory or flashback to being in a similar situation where there was a countdown to closing the vault, but then zombies were released. In the memory, my fight had started at the edges of the grand ballroom (perks of being a wallflower) and I fought my way out, dodging zombies and hiding as I went. I was one of the lucky survivors. For whatever reason, the vault employees and security had missed me when interviewing my family. I had to save my family.

It was just after dusk when my family had pulled up to the hotel to buy, so it was dark outside. After the alarm went off, we were instructed to follow the directions of the guards as they waved us through. As we walked the majestic hallways of the hotel, I was glancing around, looking for signs of zombies. We passed a dark hallway with the lights off when I saw one in a cage, hungry to be released.

My family entered the same ballroom that I had fought my way out of, and that was the last straw. I tugged my Dad’s shirt, “We need to talk, privately. Nora and Rose should come too.” I pulled them aside near to the hallway and told my Dad that we had to get out of there. I told him about how I had to fight my way through zombies the last time I was here and that this was all a trick. He didn’t believe me. The announcement came that they were going to close the doors in 10 minutes. I told him to trust me. “What is the worst that could happen?” I asked, “So the family is instantly vaporized by atomic weapons. At least we would die together, rather than suffer the horror of being separated and eaten by zombies.”

Somehow, this convinced him. We started walking out, telling the guards that we had to pick up something from the car. We all got in the car, and started to drive away, when my Dad noticed a VIP section or gallery opening or something and pulled over the car. We all got out. If the bomb was going to drop, he wanted to have a final drink.

We entered the VIP section, shaped like a tent attached to the hotel, and everyone was dress at a black tie standard, compared to my Dad in his tommy bahama hawaiian shirt. We were offered wine and champagne. My Dad took a scotch as the countdown reached closer to completion. Only 2 minutes left. I took the car keys from my Dad and set down my glass of wine. I decided that I would go get the car. As I started walking towards the exit, one of the security guards, a woman, stabbed me in the abdomen with a syringe. “Good luck ‘seeing’ your way out of this one with your eyes dialated,” she said and the world turned blindingly bright.

I stumbled out of the VIP section and I heard the roar on the wind of the zombies. It was night outside, but I could barely see. I made my way to the family Ford Explorer, started it up, and began driving it up the staircase and crashed it into the VIP area to rescue my family.

As I pulled up, I became increasingly blinded, but more importantly, everyone was gone. Apparently they left in the final minute down the hall toward the grand ballroom. I sat in the atrium with the engine running and the doors locked. A different security guard woman walked up and was about to ask a question, when my Dad walked up behind her and said it was okay and got into the truck. There was no sign of my stepmom or sister. I crawled to the back seat and locked the doors. I felt sick to my stomach and really drowsy and fell asleep in the backseat. As I was falling asleep, I heard my Dad begin the adventure of rescuing the rest of our family from zombies.

Bungee Trapeze Dream

Last night, I dreamt that I was a member of an amateur trapeze act. We were going to perform at an outdoor amphitheater beside a frozen lake. It was late winter/early spring. There had been some melting the day before, but everything had refrozen. I remember standing on a rock beside the lake and amphitheater at dusk. Purples, dark blues and blacks overtook the sky as the fading orange of the sun dissipated.

I was attached to a tandem bungee cord with another male performer dressed in white tights and rhinestones. I was dressed in black with a fir mink collar which was soft and warm. We jumped from the rock and tandemed through the air – low, high; low, high. We would take turns landing on the lake. Up, down; up, down. I enjoyed the experience of controlled flight with someone else.

There weren’t very many people in the audience because it was dark and cold, maybe only a dozen or so. At the far end of our guy-wire, I landed on the ice and broke through. I had fallen knee deep before the other end of the tandem came down, allowing me to fly through the air and out of the broken hole in the lake. My partner and I bounced our way back to the rock, having lost our momentum in the fall. We looked like we were taking turns walking on the moon.

My partner and I climbed the rock and the attendants were beginning to examine my legs when I woke up.

Recent Dreams

I’ve had quite a few dreams recently, so I want to get into the habit of writing them down again. My dog Harley also had a dream last night. Hers was a nightmare, because I could hear her growling and sleep barking and twitching in the middle of the night.


They’re Taking My House Dream


Last night, I dreamt that I had my Dad and family over to my house for movie night. The house was very similar to my childhood home on Bloomington Ave. I have my car in the garage and everyone arrives. We are starting to settle in when I receive a knock on the door. It is a detective, 5 policemen and the sheriff at my door. They show me a worn and dog-eared summons and complaint along with a writ of eviction. I insist there must be some mistake, since I’m current on my mortgage, but the detective says that this isn’t about the mortgage. The neighborhood across the street had formed an association and sued all of the homeowners on my block to condemn/bulldoze our houses because our homes “represented a blight upon the community and local property values.” This lawsuit hadn’t shown up when I was in the process of buying the house, but that didn’t matter. The judge had agreed, the appeals were over, and now the law was being enforced. We were to vacate immediately and leave everything behind. We didn’t even have time to grab our coats and shoes.

Everyone in the neighborhood was in the street and I could tell that a riot was about to begin. I took the summons, complaint and other paperwork to a friend of mine across the street and down the block. He greeted me at the door. When I showed him the paperwork, his face turned sad. He admitted that he was a part of the association. He had noticed the lawsuit in his association newsletter, but that he had never taken the lawsuit seriously. He thought it was unprecedented; having a judge condemn your neighbors homes for blight, but it happened. I was furious, so I left his home.

It was after dark and the people in the street were gone. My family wanted their coats and shoes back and I wanted my mikick (baby blanket). I told them to wait in the car around the block while I broke into the house. My key still worked and I slowly and quietly moved through the house. I got my mikick right away, but I was discovered on the first floor. The detective shined his light on me and he was with a policeman. I explained that I came back to get my family’s coat and shoes and he let me do that.

The next morning, I went to the bus stop to catch the bus to work. I was wearing the same clothes as the day before. I considered taking the day off to get a lawyer to see what I could do to battle my foreclosure. A friend from real life, Paco, was also with me at the bus stop. Him and the other folks at the stop were barefoot. I had some notepads from the hotel I stayed in and I showed him how to use the cardboard as soles for a makeshift shoe. It worked for a few steps, but then broke.

Before the bus arrived, my Dad pulled up in his car. “Where’s your car, son?” he asked.

“It’s in the garage,” I said, “Oh fuck.”

“Do you think you can get it?”

“I’ll try,” I said as I got into his car.

For some reason, we drove to a local mechanic shop a couple of blocks away from the house. My Dad talked with the mechanic, giving him a vague reason of a sound my car made when it started. He said we would drop it off that morning. The mechanic seemed friendly enough for a middle-aged man with pepper hair. I don’t know what the plan was for the mechanic. Maybe he was trying to get more paperwork or something?

After the mechanic, we slowly drive up the alleys until we come to my house. I can see that they’ve changed the locks already because the key boxes are already on the doors. It is when I’m in the back yard, debating whether to break into the house again or into the garage right away to get the car, when I wake up.


Sand Dream


On Friday night, in real life, I was invited over to my friend Dan’s house to play poker. He is getting married in two weeks, but I’m not invited to the wedding. That’s okay. I’ve not been invited to weddings before and I stayed friends. Although, in this case, I have yet to meet his fiancé. Poker was fun. I stayed after everyone left and helped clean up and Dan and I caught up on the past year.

That night, I dreamt that I was in Chicago visiting Jazzy. We went and played sand volleyball for a few hours at sunset. Afterward, we walked back to a modern condominium complex where she lived. I was completely covered in sand from volleyball and she was kind to let me shower at her place.

After we both took a shower, I opened up a bottle of chardonnay and we started talking and playing board games. It was nice to catch up, because we haven’t seen each other for about 10 years or something. She owned a store similar to a tattoo store where she worked and where we went for her first tattoo. I vaguely remember her telling me the story of the store and of her time in Chicago. We played Scrabble and she beat me like always. At the end of the night, she went to her room and I slept on her leather couch. That was the end of a pleasant dream.

Poisonous Snakes Frozen in the Mountain

Last night, I had a dream where I was travelling with the Top Gear guys, excuse me “Grand Tour” guys: Jeremy, James and Richard. We were in a mountainous region and I think I was working as part of the camera crew, like a grip or something. I was holding reflectors and carrying battery packs while they were being filmed for various segments in the morning. We were either in the Alps or the Pyrenees. It was late spring and it was sunny and pleasant. By the afternoon, shooting had wrapped for the day and I was free to go for a walk along the mountainside.

I climbed one of the mountains up to the snowline. As I got closer to the snow line, I began to notice lots and lots of what I thought were dead snakes. I carefully stepped around them to get closer to the ice and snow of a melting glacier. I could hear the melting babble of a nearby brook as the glacier melted beneath the warm sun, the gorgeous blue sky and a couple of stray white whispy clouds.

The glacier was fascinating. Snakes were frozen inside of the ice. Lots of snakes. Big snakes and small snakes. As the glacier melted, tails and heads and various parts of snakes emerged from the ice, all seemingly dead.

As it happens, I like snakes. I looked around and I began to realize that most of these snakes were poisonous. Most were asps or rattlesnakes, but there were also a few coral snakes. I even saw an anaconda frozen in the glacier.

As I studied the snakes in the ice, I saw some stray movement out of the corner of my eye. First the tail of one snake, then another, started wriggling in the ice, trying to free themselves. I looked down the mountain and some of the snakes were slowly starting to move. It was time to get out of there. I carefully crept my way around the awakening poisonous snakes and, once clear, I started running down the mountain towards the chalet. Running down the mountain, I turned and to my horror, the snakes were chasing me!

I reached the chalet and climbed the stairs to the deck. A coral snake and a few asps were still behind me and climbing the stairs. On the deck there were 3 white poofy Maltese or Pomeranian dogs barking and jumping towards the snakes. I tried to open the sliding door to get in to the chalet, but it was stuck. The little dogs were going ballistic on the snakes and were holding them successfully at bay for a time. Little by little the sliding door was cracking open. That was when I got bit twice – once on my right ankle and once on my left knee. It was painful, but I was panicking to get in and hardly noticed.

I made it in, but I was struggling to the close the door. I was panting and my breath was short. I was starting to sweat. I collapsed on the floor and one of the asps got in. Someone from housekeeping noticed me, grabbed a broom and brushed the snake outside, but not before it bit me on the right shoulder. The person with the broom got the door shut. One of the dogs had made it back inside and started licking my face. I could hear the other dogs barking. My heart was pounding and I was struggling to breathe.

“Stay calm. I’m getting help,” the housekeeper guy said. I could feel my blood thickening and my heart struggling to pump the blood syrup though my body. My mind travelled back to the image of all those snakes in the ice, wriggling to get free and that’s when I woke up.

Encountering A Fellow Traveler Dream

Last night I dreamt that I was travelling somewhere in North America. In my dream it was Wyoming, but now that I’m awake, that doesn’t make sense. It was probably Colorado of the not-too-distant future. I know this because there were mountains.

I was staying in a modern style townhome complex built into a mountain, full of stainless steel and glass, where part of the mountain extended into the living rooms and bedrooms. After I dropped off my stuff, I walked down the mountain a short ways to a tram or bus stop, caught the public transportation, and headed into town.

My goal was simply to walk around the pedestrian areas, visit some museums and perhaps see a movie. It felt like early- to mid-spring; chilly, but not unpleasant. While at an art museum, I went to the outdoor cafeteria. Walking along, I thought I recognized someone enjoying a coffee while sitting on a curb. I walked up to her and called her by her name and she responded. She was a Canadian friend of mine whom I’ve never met in real life. She is well travelled and I was very happy to run in to her.

For the rest of the dream (the entire day), we walked around town, talking about movies and politics and ideas. I remember walking by a movie theater that was playing a movie I wanted to see. I asked her opinion of the movie. She had already seen it and had no interest in seeing it again, thus we continued walking.

We caught the bus and trains together. We even caught the same tram together back up the side of the mountain at sunset. I was excited to show her the place I was staying in, but she decided it was time to turn in and we separated at my stop. The sun had already set behind the mountain, but I stood there watching the colors change in the sky. I was thinking about this wonderful day I had spent with Liz. That’s when I woke up. 

A Dream of Drug Busts and Drugs

In real life, I stayed home on Saturday night. It was cold outside and I was out of money, but I wanted to go out and meet someone, somewhat like I did last weekend. Instead, I just stayed home and watched SNL, sometimes flirting with women on online dating with no consequences or results. After SNL, I went to bed.


I dreamt that I lived in a house on either Lake and Garfield or Lake and Aldrich in Uptown. It was Saturday night and I was staying home for the same reasons as I listed in real life. Only, instead of going to bed, I was suffering from insomnia. I had the same roommates I currently have plus Katie and her boyfriend, Tony. My roommates were all out, so I had the house to myself. I spent my evening haunting the creaky old house, turning TVs on and off, going from room to room, playing some music on the piano or bass, but always listening to the parties going on around the bars of Lyn-Lake and being too broke to go out.

Around 3:00 in the morning, people started returning to the house. I was sitting in a below ground patio or sunroom watching TV because I was bored in the house and I wanted to cool off in the cooler sunroom. I remember Tony coming home and telling me about how great it was being out and how he went to this rave and stuff. He brought some folks back to his room and the commotion continued. I just sat in the basement sunroom and watched black-and-white cowboy shows on broadcast TV.

After awhile, Tony came downstairs with some girls and they took a seat in some chairs. I continued to sit on the couch. Then some cops came in through the screen door, some with submachine guns, and asked to search the house. I said, “Sure,” because I was feeling apathetic and reasonably sure they wouldn’t find anything. They left the room and I heard them rummaging around the house. I started getting up from the couch, but then another cop came in through the door and started shooting the floor with his submachine gun. I sat back down. He had a shocked expression on his face when he looked at me and said he was sorry.

“Am I under arrest?” I asked. He told me no, but also ordered me not to wander off too far. I went outside into the autumn air and watched as the police brought the entire neighborhood on lockdown. Some stray drunk girl told me that this was a mass drug bust by the police. I saw search lights, pat downs, arrests, and maybe even a helicopter overhead.

“Oh look!” the girl said, stumbling around, “Tiger Woods!”

I looked up the alley behind It’s Greek To Me and the Jungle Theater and there were men in towels coming out of a sauna that I didn’t even know was there, and sure enough, there was Tiger Woods.

The people that weren’t being arrested were continuing their Saturday night party in the street around the cops. They were too drunk to care. In the parking lot of Dulanos, I ran into Jazzy. She was definitely on something because she was beside herself with happiness.

“McScarry! You’ve gotta try this!” she said, swishing around a screw-top water bottle of juice.

“What’s in it?” I asked.

She giggled and said, “Drugs.”

Normally I don’t do drugs, but I’ve always had a crush on this girl for years and years. I took her screw-top bottle, opened it, and drank. It tasted like mango-peach with a strange side taste, slightly metallic. I put the top back on and handed her bottle back.

We embraced and started making out in the parking lot. It was intense and enjoyable. I began to think that I hadn’t made out with anyone like this in a long time. I also began to feel the drugs begin to kick in and I felt lighter and lighter. I was beginning to feel happy, really happy. I pulled back from making out to look at Jazzy in the face, but the drugs were really just waking me up.


I laid in bed for awhile after this dream, thinking about what this dream meant. I was sober. I did not drink anything yesterday and I did not go out. My subconscious was definitely punishing me for not going out last night.