4/18/2024 –
I wake up in my old upstairs bedroom in our place in Ohio and walk downstairs. Oh, Jesus Christ. What the fuck? We’re doing Christmas in July? I’m not a big fan of Christmas in the first place so once a year is def enough. A crapton of my extended family are all there dressed up in Christmas pajamas and opening presents by the tree. Good god, I think to myself. I need to take some bong rips before I’m going to be able to deal with all this.
So I head back up to my room to get high but my one brother follows me. When I arrive, there are all these weird old boom box style stereos blaring noise and it takes me a sec to turn them all off. My Dad now shows up, wondering why it took so long to figure out which one was causing the racket. I then look around and realize that the place is packed with all these teenage family members who I imagine don’t even exist yet.
“Wow. I’m not entirely sure the floor in this room above the garage can handle all these people.”
I opine out loud. Then I remember that I used to have huge parties here so I know that it absolutely can. What follows are hours of me hanging out at this large family party scenario and honestly, mostly having a good time. I must confess though that the details are largely lost, I just recall riding the pleasant vibes.
What I will say is that eventually there’s this like private performance for the party and wow is it weird. The concept is that this performer is the son of a famous person (although I don’t remember who), and he does these impersonations of other famous people. So it’s like karaoke in a way, but it’s like tribute karaoke by the son of a famous person.
I don’t get it either and it’s like he’s very good at impersonating several famous musicians and he has a couple other performers that he pulls into this schtick. The one I remember is a tattooed black woman David Bowie impersonator in full Ziggy Stardust makeup singing Pink Floyd, which is super trippy because the next morning I learned that the thin white duke did in fact sing with Floyd at some of their final shows. I was certainly confused by it in the dream like, why is the David Bowie impersonator singing Pink Floyd?
Anyway, after he’s done his musical bits he now moves on to another of his famous impersonations, which is? Carrot Top. That’s right, one of the things this trust fund bro does is impersonate freaking Carrot Top and when he hits this segment of the performance I am appropriately bemused. Like, what in the absolute fuck? A Carrot Top impersonator? And the dude does go into this schtick, which quickly devolves into what’s essentially a clown car routine with all his staff jumping into this small water tub looking thing at the right side of the stage and never coming out. They’re all dressed like Carrot Top and honestly, you can essentially see the hole in the bottom of the fake water bucket that they’re all exiting the stage from. This is their big finale. Crap. Just utter shit.
Next up is watching my dad fork over the cash for this birthday performance. Of course he’s paying and I can tell it ain’t cheap.
4/19/2024 –
Liminal vignettes:
This isn’t really a vignette but more the ending to a long dream where I remember very few details. This all involves me helping these other people get some sort of coordinated basketball campaign together in these interconnected practice gyms. I feel like this was quite involved but all I can put together is the part at the end where one of the organizer/coach dudes, who’s this taller thin white guy with graying hair in I’d guess his 60’s. Anyway, the coach dude tells me matter of factly that the league’s ready to go and he wants me to be the youth outreach coordinator, to which I’m all:
“Whaaaaat?”
I did not see this offer coming at all, nor did I even realize they were going to try and turn it into a league apparently.
An incredibly vanilla looking white dude with short blonde hair parted on the right is sitting in his bed chatting with his wife. I never actually see his wife but I somehow know she’s wearing one of those very old school white sleeping gowns. She’s talking to him when I enter his head and he is suddenly possessed by the idea of grabbing her by the head and bashing into the top of the light stained wooden stairs just outside of their bedroom. The thought leaves his headspace as quickly as it enters and I’m still in his mind. He is legitimately stunned and freaked out by this sudden invasion, as if it was implanted from elsewhere. I get the feeling that was the point.
I’m at an at least somewhat swanky seeming bar ordering a round of drinks from an attractive thin nosed I’d say early 30’s looking woman with dark curly hair and bangs. I’m ordering 6 drinks for my crew and they come in almost beaker looking tall clear glasses. As she’s getting them ready I remember that one of them was for me so: “Make the one on the far left there a vodka.” She seems slightly confused by this request. Truth: So do I because I don’t think I’ve ever ordered vodka in a bar. Not that I hate it or anything.
I’m walking the dogs in my neighborhood on a sunny day. A black Mini Cooper sedan with white trim pulls out from the alleyway adjacent to the sidewalk slightly in front of us. I stop to let it go and he waves us through, despite already being partially in the sidewalk. I find this slightly annoying.
4/20/2024 –
More psi vignettes:
I really shouldn’t have watched this video going through every Sega Master system game ranked by critical score before I went to bed. Why was I doing this in the first place? A pure nostalgia rabbit hole for the most part and yet there was more to it. YouTube bro’s delivery is strangely hypnotic but more to the point: why does such a thing exist in the first place? I find it all deliriously surreal.
Anyway, this lead to hours of visions where I’m in these living video game scenarios with absolutely terrible 80’s graphics, which wasn’t the greatest experience. I ended up doing this thing where I was willing this box of yellow energy into this distant heavily pixelated white realm. I was told I was accomplishing this with my wizard powers which seemed cool but when I woke up I realized that I had to go to the bathroom and I had basically just banished the feeling to a less visceral level of consciousness so I could sleep longer. Wow. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s the first step in like meditating in one place for 10 hours or shutting off your pain receptors but this was not an impressive display.
A liminal experience where I’m told a couple of things. One, that I have to stop being the alter ego and spend more of my time as my “fake” super hero sorcerer persona, which is actually the more real one in my case. This tracks. I’m also told that no one believes I wasn’t a victim at this point. This is all related to the murder I was accidentally involved in thing that’s been going on forever. I think the trial has finally wrapped up and I imagine this change in attitude is why it’s now safer for me to lean into my sorcerer side.
A map written in 80’s computer graphic hieroglyphs. Super fascinating. It’s like modeled on old 80’s graphics fantasy games but there is no pixelation and it’s def presented like a sacred fantasy message on a cave wall. Or is it a temple wall? Hard to say but you have the slender vertical watering can type implement that you pour into the sacred soil. When you do this, the map to the underground solar city is now revealed. In a waking state I thought to myself: plant the sacred plants and they will show you the way. Surprisingly deep for a roughly 30 second vision with intentionally simplistic hieroglyph graphics.
There’s this what looks like a Burmese Mountain dog mix with the same coloring but smaller and with a more angular snout. Anyway, this dog has a pretty bitching looking golden magick wand in its right paw. The top is cut into all these angular looking sections with floating energy eyes in the gaps of the gold and shit. Cool wand you got there pooch.
Now I’m dressing the magick pooch up in a set of straight up medieval heavy metal armor. It’s maybe a bit clunky but it all fits. Of course I’ve gotta get some snaps of the newly knighted pooch, right? Of course. As I start shooting the pics though I somehow don’t remember if he’s good at taking photos or not. The dog is warping into different variations in front of me as well and basically I’m now not sure if it’s the Burmese mix or my pug. The vision ends before I can find out.
A cool retro game on the white with black grid Master System design palette called Stoke Vocum’s Las Vegas. It has a brightly colored image splashed amidst the black grid lines with lots of popping yellows and reds. I imagine it’s a casino game but I have no idea.
I’m sleeping on the old middle kitchen extension in our old basement apartment. It makes zero sense that I would have fallen asleep here and I’m just looking at the shitty carpet having a mildly profound realization. I chose to wake up here. A level of me knows that I’m dreaming and that this was my choice. Sometimes it’s my wife that pulls me here but in this scenario I’m 100% sure it’s me. Why am I more comfortable here? The thing is, I know exactly what this is telling me. Rich people culture legit gives me the icks. That’s what they like about me but this attitude is also not entirely beneficial to me in this crap reality. They’ve been telling me this for a very long time and been mostly right.
