Onto the Phantom Streets

2/3/2026 –

I’m walking down a stairway out the door with a couple of other chaps. One is this well-dressed thin dude in a suit with shortly cropped hair who starts hitting on me, which of course spawns the classic:

“Man I so wish I was gay.”

Rant I always do and the other dude is just sort of rolling his eyes at me. But like, he genuinely doesn’t seem to understand what I’m saying and I’m not understanding that. Interesting. Maybe it’s the delivery. I would say that half the country wishing you were dead would have its downsides as well.

Another vision where it’s muffin day. I worked a job years ago where we had bagels every Friday and this is a riff on that. A delicious riff on that. Everyone’s got their muffins. Sticky sweat muffins, some coated in a delightful glaze. I’m not sure if this is good or bad thing honestly. If you gave me free muffins every week, I’d eat free muffins every week. See what I mean?

One more vision of LeBron throwing a sick lob one handed to another lanky dude with a white athletic sleeve thing. That’s about it.

2/4/2026 –

I’m hanging out at my mom’s old place and I’m realizing I haven’t returned a video tape since the last time I was here, which is months ago. God, that’s going to be a several hundred dollar bill. Neither my brother or mom seem to care about this and I’m not sure why. Like, that’s a frivolous waste of money. I don’t think they’re empathizing enough.  

When I get to the door though, I’m now realizing I have no idea if I’m in Columbus or Seattle. Nothing makes sense. Where the fuck even is that place? In my mind it’s based on North Campus Video but again, nothing makes sense as I stare at the phantom door.

In fact, it makes no sense how the next scenario even arises. I’m staring at the dream door and suddenly I’m living with this thin younger woman with long super curly cherry red hair. Extra pale with very light freckles. She’s cute and we head out to some sort of all night concert festival.

We hang for a while and I have no clue what happens but somehow I’m now waking up next to her while laying on these white blankets around a huge crowd of peeps, knowing that we’d just had sex. How we did this around all these other people? No idea but apparently I passed out afterward and she kept the party rolling. She’s telling me about some of the other people she hung out with and I feel an odd tinge of jealousy. Did she fuck them too? From her tone I’m thinking not. Why am I even jealous though?

Anywho, pretty quickly I’m like: Shit. It’s 6:45am. My wife’s going to be waking up soon. She seems to be entirely aware of the wife sitch, which makes sense as we’re all living together. We need to get back quick. Neither one of us want her to know apparently. So we do and we’re in the upstairs room which is the bedroom of the curly red-haired woman and we’re just staring at each other standing up like:

“Awkward.”

Yeah. Cheated on my wife with the woman I’m living with. Ok then. I suppose I’ll go downstairs and stare at the same mind warp door. Fuck, I’m just going to go out it.

I do and onto the phantom streets where I end up at this super-duper trendy and huge hair salon. This slightly thicc guy with blonde hair and a blonde beard is giving me a cut and halfway through the thing I’m realizing that I absolutely did not need a haircut. Just seemed like a fun thing to do. Super surreal and he keeps wheeling me around to different places in the shop. I still don’t know why I’m getting a hair cut though.

When the thing’s finally done he reveals a blonde, much shorter, and messier look than what I’ve been rocking. Much thicker glasses and more tattoos. Def a “younger” vibe. Midlife crisis shit. This tracks with what preceded it.

Later in a meditative trance what I’m essentially told is:

You think your life is boring but you’ve never really been in many situations where you’ve been tempted to do the wrong thing, have you? This is purely intentional. Your karma is intact. You’ll thank us later.

This also completely tracks with the dream that preceded it.  

2/5/2026 –

I’m in a blue future Best Buy and after my things are all rung up, I can’t find my credit card in my wallet. Details man. Finite details in dream worlds. There is no small stuff. Not being able to find my credit card makes no sense and goes on for a while and is it even resolved? No idea.

What I do know is that eventually I head through the glass mechanical doors outside and it gets excessively awesome real quick. I’m now navigating this hyper intense river walk with all these almost yellow brick road/wicker basket walkways. It is freaking amazing. A painted wonder. Like nature and art embedded together because ultimately they’re the same fucking thing. Astounding. Wonderous. Beatific. Take your pick. All at once.

The main thing is this deep profound feeling of déjà vu. I’ve been here before. I’ve fucking been here before. I can feel it. And I know it’s a dream but in waking up no, I don’t actually remember being here in a waking state. Nor in the dream really but why the overwhelming déjà vu?

I’m hanging with a whole group of people and one of them is my brother. I look over like:

“I’ve been here before.”

As we walk up the tastefully gilded path. I point ahead.

“We’re dreaming.”

I’m lucid and yet I don’t want to change anything. This corner of the conscious multiverse is just too choice. Right outside of a Best Buy too. Superb. This is the clearest my dreaming has come through in a year and a half. Lush and boundless. Higher than high fidelity.

In fact, I head in the urban direction of this fantasy environment now. I get in a blue convertible with this Filipino dude who’s like:

“Let’s roll.”

Apparently it’s a double date and I’m his wing man. As we plunge into the lucidity city, it just keeps getting more and more unhinged. I’m fixating on the Columbia Center. It’s periodically there and celestially glistening. That’s about it. Rolling heavy through the heaven city. Fantastical.   

Later in a meditation trance, I’m told that my wife’s neurodivergence is so fucked up that it essentially shields me from detection. They can’t pick up on my thoughts. She’s like my Morty. Fascinating.

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