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Dream Journal

With Dara in Bed at McD’s

Spending night in McDonald’s restaurant which contains a hotel. The bed is in part of the restaurant, off to one side. Sleeping next to Dara all night after coming down from psychedelic. Walking up, I need to unlock her phone and fail. She admits her phone unlock pattern (4×4 grid) is too complicated for her also, then she just resignedly unlocks it with her thumb.

It feels nice to be close and trusted. With the lock pattern, the physical closeness. Weird place to wake up but unique and novel.

Bay leaf cannon. Dara admits to overusing it during certain periods. She says jokingly “You can crack a nerd.” Using it as in fire a bay leaf spritz spray outside of restaurant. Use David Barzelay as an example, painting food products with it outside — rotating the food and firing blast after blast.

We plan our route for the day when she wakes up.

Categories
Dream Journal

Dental Office / Photo Box Date

In two days, I have two dates at a dental office. It’s with my friend Dara (whom I used to go out with). I’m obviously more touchy-feely compared to the other patients — it’s a strange situation as I wouldn’t announce we were dating (Dara never thought of it like that anyway) and who goes on a date with a dentist multiple occasions to work on one’s teeth? I can’t remember if we made out at all, what with all the work being done on mouths there. Weird thought.

Inside a white office drawer under a counter, I find a drawer full of photos. I make it my task to clean them out. Unclaimed property and all that. I almost disrespect the person by default for leaving all their memories for someone else to deal with — then again, I don’t know the circumstances of how they were left.

I’ve been dealing with photos for awhile when I find one taken by Dara, one that was mentioned. It was taken at a seashore with craggy spikes, flamingoes, a 1950s wood-sided family car. Different areas of the photo are shown as I turn it in the colored lights — the flamingoes in the corner only show with the pink, for example. This is how I know it was the one mentioned, taken by Dara.

After doing the work with the photos I come into possession of an old blue suitcase. Not by my own choice, in fact — it was practically thrown at me. There’s a small group who are plainly coordinating with one another, trying to pull a scam of some kind. With feigned nonchalance, I’m asked to read aloud the address handwritten on the inside of the suitcase. It’s in Chicago with a zip code that someone insists “checks out”. Though I’ve been aware of there’s some scam, I’m starting to suspect it’s an actual curse — something that has to be passed on to an unwitting host.

I perceive, beyond just the curse-related suitcase, that the layer of fabric lining a nearby fence is named Malcolm (a very human name for fabric, isn’t it…).