Current mood:
vexed
........
Ron had already killed himself. I knew this had already occurred before the happenings of the dream. For
some reason I was living in a cruddy abandoned building, a place with
peeling red painted walls and feces on the floor. I was holed up in
a room that was well hidden, but had a tiny window that looked
outside. I worked as a cashier at a grocery store that was adjacent
to the abandoned building. My boss was a tall, bald, black, and very
intimidating man, like Samuel L. Jackson, only more imposing. During a transaction, my register screen started freaking out, flashing screens faster than I could press buttons. I accidentally pushed a button
which calls the cops in case of a robbery. I tried to find a “cancel” button, but I
couldn't. I should've told my boss, but instead I ran to my hidden room in the abandoned
building and hid, waiting for the cops to leave. I was chewed out
something fierce when I came back to work. I felt shame. My girlfriend, whom also works at the grocery
store, came to me and told me she wants to see other people. I'm not interesting enough for her, she tells me. Later, another coworker accused me of stealing
their lunch out of the communal fridge. At this point I feel like I'm going to cry. I feel
like they are trying to get rid of me. I strut up to my boss with my
chin held high and lip quivering, and tell him I quit. I walk down the sidewalk to
Bridget's house. Someone takes a picture of me from behind, but I
don't know who it was. I break my glasses while trying to adjust
them. Bridget gives me a pair of lightly tinted prescription
sunglasses, which are somewhat helpful. I feel like I don't have enough money to survive. I'm desperately trying to figure out how to make it, and if I don't, I fear I will die. I
decide I need to get out of town, so I plan on taking the crosstown
bus to Santa Monica, even though the dream seems to be happening in
Seattle. I feel I'll be able to make money in Santa Monica, even if
I have to resort to panhandling. I tell Bridget that I'll be gone a
long time, so she gives me a photo album with pictures of Ron inside.
I feel sadness and anger, and frustration, and hopelessness. I pack
my things, and realize my lip ring has fallen out. In my dream I have a
dozen or so replacements, so I go to the bathroom and lay them on the
sink, but I can't quite grasp them well enough to pick them up. My fingers are like clumsy, chubby sausages. I
try to pick them up many times, and finally become frustrated, and get
a head mounted flashlight to hopefully see better, because the bathroom keeps
getting darker even though the light is on. I don't know if I'm wearing my glasses or not. My eyes won't focus
properly. I can't see the tiny details of the jewelry. I keep
dropping them down the drain. I feel like time is running out, like the bus is coming, and if I don't hurry, I'll miss it, and my life will be destroyed. I
finally give up on the jewelry. Bridget reminds me not to forget the photo album, and I
walk out, and wake up from the dream.