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Dream Journal

Mini Plesiosaur is Silly

In our large, outdoor aquarium setup (taking up about as much space as a shipping container) I remove one of the former centrally-important fish, replacing it with a very nervous mini-plesiosaur. The thing has a pleasingly silly dark green appearance, darting and swimming around like a toy from a cartoon (or perhaps some Midjourney images I’ve made).

In the open water of a lake with many boats, I’m directed to catch a kid wearing floaties and suspended by the chords of a parachute. I drag him over to the Relentless — a boat I used to crew once upon a time. I tell my friend Anton (reminding him actually) that if something you do is “stealing” from a billionaire… you’re just stealing it back.

At some point I left behind my motorcycle clothing somewhere. It’s since been moved, and I navigate stations of a library scattered about an outdoor terraced environment, collecting it piece by piece.

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Dream Journal

Dino Toys, Bison Charge, Elixir Monument

Amongst a nameless store of long aisles, I’m surprised to find myself one aisle over from a large pile of new-old-stock Jurassic Park toy boxes, both velociraptor and dilophisaur. Obviously I wouldn’t have seen these for sale in retail box since I was a kid, mid-90s. I find myself wondering if I should stock up. I hear a lesbian couple discussing them, unseen, in front of the pallet. I hear them speculating aloud about the toys’ abilities, and unknown to them there’s a tramsmit functionality. Without saying a word, I move a walkie-talkie (previously hanging on its strap in my aisle) in front of them both, on top of the toy box pile. So they can now hear their own voices as heard by the toys.

I’m picnicking under a scenic tree, a blissful naive youth on a sunny noon. I hear from inside the nearby building the struggles of a group of people with a huge animal, though I’m generally unconcerned. Suddenly it breaks through the doors, a paleolithically large bison, never seen since ancient times. Without pause it charges directly at me. I maintain my gaze and observe as its horn catches on a tree, throwing off its momentum. It untangles itself and charges away a different direction. But I know it would’ve got me, that it could sense that I was just another of those animals that would eat it’s kind if I could. Leaves me thinking of the old megafauna… how strange it must have felt living around them.

I arrive and depart my friend Sarah’s house via freeway (normally I walk there so this is a bit of an exercise). I’m too early for whatever I came for, and there’s just her, a floor made of large wet pebbles, and a table with the TV on it. Sarah continues mostly paying attention to the TV as I promptly realize I don’t have anything to do here for now, and should cut my losses.

At a yoga retreat in an old open-air stone construction. It’s brisk and I’m running naked in a circular path — exhilarated. Who knows if I can do this, but I’m getting away with it. I discover a small standing monument that is simply a pipe stuck vertically in the ground, with a little plaque bearing a recipe for elixir. The plaque is obscured as Bud Light cans have been left on it from sloppy guests. I gently flick them away.

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Dream Journal

Mongoose-Style Axe Moves

I’m waiting for a girl I don’t know that well, Laura R. (nom de plume: context sans) in a side room. This is after I meet her by assignment. Perhaps we were laying in bed together. There’s some sexual tension but it’s hard to define. We did meet on a dating site, after all. I might show her my loyalty and ability to work, but I’m also showing her that I needn’t be set on her.

Barber shop downstairs from where I live now, but it’s actually my unit in the dream. Axe on wall I take down, and I’m testing different animal-style strikes. On one side is a list of moves, and the other side is just instructions for Mongoose style. The winning move is to hit the blunt side of the ax to right side of face, which I do — to you know who. I noticed the ax has a chip out of it, a distinct triangle out of the blade side that I didn’t do.

I realize after waking it connects with a little project I’m doing. Beat it to a grimy pulp, as goes the saying I wrote in my consultant deck.

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Dream Journal

Curiosity in a Tent

Notice that my rat Tip can get under the door. This is still a concern as he hasn’t integrated with his brother.

A YouTuber I follow, Jenny N. is in a tent off to one side (treated as a room). I watch her check her “isis”, which is located between the labia and vagina. I can see the circle ring of teeth — but don’t note it as special. Hope I don’t get caught watching and called a perv by people outside. Genuinely just checking in on her and curious.

Later I’m waiting on the ground floor in a twilight atrium space, one of those malls that are like a long corridor. While I’m there, they close a store that does trainings. So I get escorted through the mall for a long way through “closed-off” territory. It’s a tile-floored ramp that seems familiar now.

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Dream Journal

No Vinyl on a Boat Home

Testing out new apartment. My wife has set the glass barrier of the outside window too close, giving us not enough room. We place a “door hole” door in the wall, a device that allows you to compare the size to any residence you might be more familiar with.

But the building is on a ship and rocks at sea. One of the many sacrifices of this lifestyle, I’d say. I realize: I need to inform my wife we won’t be playing any vinyl records if we live here… a joke, but a true one…