Regular, Sweet, or Metaphor?

11/19/2025 –

An older man is flirting with my wife as she sits on the bed in my college apartment in Oxford, Ohio. She seems somewhat receptive to him until he starts mentioning how he has money and with that, she gets a sour look on her face. After he leaves, I go over to ask her why him having money would be a bad thing. I do not get the answer in this vision but in actual life I’m pretty sure I know.

This later leads to this odd surrealist almost old school aviator fantasy vibe thing where my wife has this office in Cleveland. She wants me to grab her something in Cincinnati, which looks like this cosmic beltway grid. Also, for some reason it’s directly below Cleveland rather than east. I don’t entirely understand this but it does seem like making it all the way down there and back in the time allotted will be problematic.

In my quest to find this item, I of course end up in Columbus instead where I’m at what seems like a wizard school. We’re walking through these reality distorting fields in a modern castle and this one bro with a mop of curly hair keeps telling me he’s taller than me. No the fuck he isn’t. By the time we get to the end of these reality filters it appears I’m correct. He is in fact shorter but just barely. That’s all I really remember other than the fact that these wizard bros are going to help me with my wife’s task. In fact, I think they’re just handling it for me.

Later I’m driving in this fictional Cincinnati situation. It’s more like I’m floating but there’s this circular old brick sky scraper with a major street running through the middle situation. Glorious architecture.

“Maybe Cincinnati’s cooler than I thought it was.”

I think to myself. Not long after the dream cuts out.

11/20/2025 –

I’m told that I can see the future.

Now I’m shown these crackling life bubbles with people inside of them. One can see the future by reading minds.

Next I’m shown a handsome man sitting up in a hospital bed. There are all these bubbles hovering around him. All this hidden information. I can see the future. 

A while later I’m immersed in this dark energy café. As I’m pulling out and upward into waking life I’m asked:

“Regular, sweet, or metaphor?”

A bit later I’m digging under the wooden desk in this hotel. There are all these pages that seem like ripped up magazine pages spilling from manilla folders and they have something to do with Angela Landsbury. Yes, I need to collect all of these. These are important.

11/21/2025 –

We’re watching this film in a large concrete industrial type venue. At first it makes zero sense because it doesn’t seem like there’d be a place to project a film but oh yeah. They just broadcast the light right into that open section near the front. It’s a light energy film apparently.

Also, in the middle of it, we have to move from one industrial concrete venue to the next, which is weird. What’s stranger is that in this new venue, there’s this black and yellow mesh energy layer that’s coating everything. It’s a good vibes yellow and black energy too. Exactly no one is complaining about this energy field.

Next I’m in a room that’s a lot like my childhood church. The Red Hot Chili Peppers are playing except that of course none of them actually look like the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Or play like them. In fact, the guitarist is a pretty average brown spiky haired white dude and he’s just precision hitting the keyboard next to him with drum sticks. He’s very very into it but I’m not entirely hearing what effect it’s having on the music. I’m intrigued though.

After their song is done, I go up to the guitarist to ask about the keyboard he was slamming with the drumsticks. He shows it to me and it’s the most simplistic old school synthesizer imaginable. Like, one step above a kid’s toy. It also has these weird surrealist patches that somehow extend as little dabbed pads of paper underneath the stage. This doesn’t track dimensionally but whatever. It’s a shit keyboard, enhanced slightly. Weird.

Now I step back and realize this is like a public performance rehearsal. The singer, who’s this attractive I’d say late 40’s woman with shortly cropped pink hair is talking. Honestly, she can’t quite pull off the belly shirt outfit she’s wearing but the gigantic multi-eyed tattoo down the side of her leg is fantastic. She’s talking about how the guitar player nailed his part on that take and I raise my hand:

“Actually, he wasn’t even playing his guitar, he was just hammering notes on this vintage synth the entire time.”

Which she impressively brushes off despite being at least somewhat visibly irritated for a brief second. The guitar player finds this absolutely hilarious and after the Q and A I go up to chat with him. Wow, I’ve got the ear of the guitarist for the Red Hot Chili Peppers. What should I ask him? I have no idea so I turn around to see if any of the friends I came with have anything to add. I don’t remember if any of them do.

Later down the road I’m hanging in this academic pub type sitch with a bunch of would-be professors (I guess). My brother is there, one of his professors is British and I’m noticing that when he talks to him extensively he starts taking on a British affectation.

This now advances to my place where he’s telling the family all these classes he’s going to take. While he’s doing this, I call him out for suddenly speaking in British accent. I find it very funny but no one else was even noticing until I pointed it out. Good times.

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