a journal what for dreams and such

me: has the most vivid, detailed, comedic, dramatic dreams with casts of original characters or people i know doing amazing, wonderful, inspirational things...

me: wakes up and wants to write down the details of the dream i just had, or some of the quotes that stick out...

me: can't remember anything 😭

i was on some sort of panel/tour show looking at food from New Zealand. there was a baked mac & cheese dish that somehow had a layer of unmelted cheese at the bottom??? it stressed me tf OUT, but i was trying (poorly) to be respectful about it

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a h.s. friend and i traveled to the house of one of their relations when we were supposed to be hanging out. i didn't really have any objections (at first) because i didn't really have any ideas. when we get to the house, it's in an absolute state of disaster. there was food and mess all over the floor, clothes and toys, and there was a real bad stench (bonus feature: this dream has smell-o-vision). it was basically an Aurikaterina house.

my friend decides we should stay and help clean it up. except i have the body i have now and can't walk all the fast and use a cane and am in pain. i was absolutely not excited, but didn't say that. the friend basically spends most of the day cleaning off stuff and taking some trash out. i couldn't help so i just... was somewhere??

the mom of the family comes back and is kind of neutral... not angry, and says thanks, but isn't HAPPY about the cleaning. it's whatever

some hours go by, but the friend and i are still at the house. i am separated from them, so it takes me a little moment to find her. she's in another room, but more family has appeared and she's playing videogames with them. i do ask if we're heading out soon, but she's not really committed and says she's gonna stay for a while longer. i say okay, i'm gonna call a cab or something. as i'm on the call waiting for something to come together, she starts saying goodbyes and gets ready and is suddenly telling me that yeah she is gonna head out now and that i can get a ride with her still if i want. i do to save the $.

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the vibes of this dream were way off. the way i was acting too was from decades ago: people please-y and somewhat of a "just there" find of friend, but still being rushed by people who didn't respect my time or presence, and didn't have my best interests at heart. this was a weird one. i didn't like how it made me feel. plus a weird one to introduce smell-o-vision in.

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Priyanka Chiani, the Indian-New York Jewish social studies teacher radicalizing her grade/middle/high school/uni students with her exciting, popcorn conversational style lessons, and the student (me) who gets in trouble for skipping out on other classes to sometimes hang out with her. our lesson was about unions, and how the first corporation made it's first billion in 1925, before the crash...

Nothing causes sleep.exe to suddenly reboot itself quite like looking at a emerald green crow/raven directly in its eye, seeing a flash of bird footprints in snow, and watching the start of an argument because person A hesitated in rescuing person 1 after p1 fell into a lake.

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i'm walking around the downtown of a large city. it kind of feels like NYC but i don't think it is. i get the smell of those caramelized nuts and start to follow it to one of those downtown sections of a city that doesn't have car traffic and there are places that are supposed to have food/serve lunch, but all of the outdoor ones are empty. i go to an indoor part and 2 stalls are making food. i get on a line that look like the person is making dobra and grab a tray. this place is shaped like a school cafeteria except way bigger, dark tones for all the walls and furniture, and sized for adults. i get some meat stuff and some weird pasta dumpling thing that looks like it was made with spinach water. a middle aged Korean guy kinda cuts me in line, and i'm annoyed but don't get into it.

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weird town house apartment tour: go in one and we're told all the apts have the same, so it's just a kitchen, living room, bathroom and bedroom on the first floor in some weird open concept. but on the second floor there's there HUGE second bedroom that overlooks an also huge seating space that sort of leads underground to a weird bunker.

i keep asking if all the houses have this and the tour leader keeps confirming. are they all connected or something to this space? nope, they all have their own...

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antagonizing Drake about his music with Rihanna and that he hasn't gotten awards (don't care if this is true). we are walking around old neighborhood Harlem as we do this.

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playing some weird football game with cutouts. like some weird foosball game.

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i am very good at doing the extra rope swish style of jumping...

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me pal-ing around Andre 3000's house doing chores and hum-singing some of his songs. the apartment is the one i grew up in.

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my mom has kidnapped some white college students to make them help her with some kind of future crime, but they have to play D&D to get freedom/decide their roles in the heist. there is white sass, black pops to mouths, and Jamaican food for dinner. i am unphased by the kidnapped students. (i can't tell if i've had another dream with this plot, or if i dreamed there were multiple occurrences of this. basically, i remembered them from "last time"). this is also happening in the old apt. i grew up in.

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intense beading convention

there were well renowned beaders from around the world, and because there were different cultures represented, there were huge spats that broke out, especially in the giant convention stage room. there were lots of disabled beaders, and Muslim beaders, African and Asian beaders that i distinctly remember. they were showcasing techniques and cultural patters and handmade beads. it was really beautiful.

someone was making a documentary about the con. there were professors from universities reconnecting with students from years and decades before.

a yelling fight broke out in the main stage area, because a African Muslim beader was showcasing something and someone yelled some bs. the bs person was loudly escorted out, but the folks still in the hall were obvi. really pissed about it. to get back to the main focus, people started taking their chains of beads and whipping them in the air. it was dangerous af, but beautiful, and helped recenter everyone.

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dreamed about a whole new set of possible horrors at the Amherst house. there was a new person there, and we were figuring out the getting to a place we were going to, like a talk?

Asshole #2 (A. F.) said something kind of off, and i grabbed his shit collar and shook him and then he said "there you go. touching my body again..." (in a "it's a living 🤷‍♂️" tone) to which i said "yeah!! because i need to drive the fucking point home!" i let go then said "you can be so fucking mean sometimes! and you don't even care,.." i was teary at that point, so i left.

the new person and i were cleaning this reusable sticker toy set thing to waste time before we left. it was in the kitchen of the Amherst House which was the kitchen of the 116th apt, which architecturally doesn't make sense. Asshole #1 (C. S.) starts talking about something being messy, and i got nervous that he was talking about the vinyl sticker thing, but it turned out he was talking about the backsplash. i was relieved. i said something about how we could all work together to clean it over a weekend (Asshole #1 starts to interrupt but i talk over him) or we can come up with a chore chart. other people who we went to college with start showing up and accessing the wall situation. Asshole #2 adds that he can help if we schedule a time where he's not at work. i mouth thank you to him.

(upon waking up and writing this dream down, i realize the answer that i thank Asshole #2 for is actually a terrible response because it is still requiring the emotional and labor input before he'll do any goddamn thing, BUT since he has a noticeable pattern of absolutely agreeing to damn near everything Asshole #1 says and following along with what Asshole #1 says, him agreeing to do the chores is a step away from being attached to Asshole #1 at the hip. Asshole #2 is SPECKLED AS FUCK, and it's annoying that he might not know. it vexes me a lot, but i am so actively disgusted by how things went down around my leaving, that i wouldn't want to even talk to him. plus the ethical ramifications of just telling someone something like that, or whateva)

it feels like the new person was just really interested in watching how i responded to emotional situations in the house. they weren't watching me on account of the Assholes though, thank god.

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at mother's house. settling in, or at least trying to. it's not going well. i don't unpack my stuff, but i go through it. nervous she's gonna find the sex toys i bought with me for some reason? i keep finding places in my stuff to hide them.

mother brings by this really quiet foster kid and tells me we have to share the room. i don't like that. i become increasingly agitated while talking to the foster daughter, but she's who is too young/naive/desperate to understand or care about what i'm saying about the bs my mom does.

she lives in a strange new house that's too big and i don't know my way around. it's a single house in/near the woods, and when i look out the windows weird out of season stuff is happening. one window is a guy caught in a spring/summer rain in the city even though that's not where the house is. sometimes walls inside of closets have portholes to the outside with no glass in them, exposing all the stuff in the closets to the elements essentially. i really want to go home.

when i get back to the room i'm now sharing, someone has moved the furniture as well as my stuff around when i wasn't there. no one claims it, but mother is smug and the foster kid is doing her best to ignore the situation. i think mother might mention something about things being messy, which sets me off.

start to have a meltdown as i tell her intensely about something. she starts getting louder, and i grab her bottom jaw (like my hand stuffed inside her mouth holding it open but she can't talk), so that i can say my piece without her interrupting. i don't know what i say. the foster kid is not looking at us. i leave the room as i come down and i figure out how to leave her house.

i come back later to grab my stuff and she's drawn some art about how sad and scared she was when i was melting down. it pissed me off because she gets to use "how i am" to paint herself as the victim of her big, scary daughter, and profit off of how shitty i feel by acting like it's how she feels.

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mother is visiting home, starts dating white guy with daughter also. he gets a ride home on a pedal bike with Keanu Reeves? after being so sleepy. returns to my home with gift of donuts. turns out his daughter is a mega bitch and i didn't want to be roommates with her after all.

tell this to mother after i finish cleaning kitchen space and we converse about Whiteness...

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red vs green battle in city? villain vs. non-villian fashion fights. anti-depressants filled balloon

ask if an artist is indigenous. villain asks me if i really care. i go off on a thing about how sometimes when you're surrounded by white people, this is how they talk, and then they start to get safe around you. i don't remember the specifics of what i said but it did hit the target.

turns out that one of the villain helpers takes an anti depressants mist through a balloon. blows some out pin prick in window to calm villain down.

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violent part: people in apartment complex get gunned down for being weirdly violent themselves when a gunman is doing something in their building? gunman self defense????

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