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Warning: Peering into my soul may cause uncomfortableness, nausea, dizziness, and a feeling of being lost

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Dream journal ( times two)

Today, y’all get a double header.

In the first dream, I was working at my Walgreens and I was cashiering for a customer. He was a black guy, about my height, with a blue cost and get capo on and he had a low raspy voice. I believed he was high, as after every item he’d point to the next one, laughing, saying, “ya gotta ring that up, too.” At the end he asked for cigarettes and each time I would bring one over, he would shake his head and say, Nah, man, I said (a different kind of cigarettes.” After a few times out this, he declared, “Man, whatchoo tryin’ to do to me? I don’t smoke that shit, that shits bad for you, man. Now ring me up a Slim Jim so I can pay.” I hadn’t seen any Slim Jims on the counter. I looked behind me at the basket of returned items, but there were none there either. I briefly wondered if he wanted me to go to their aisle and pick one, but as I turned around, there on the counter, was suddenly a display on the counter with Slim Jim and Jimmy Dean summer sausage. The man laughed and proclaimed, “can you believe this guy? Shit, mothe’ fucke’s crazy.” I told him the total, completely bewildered at this and point. He looked at me oddly, as though I were some curiosity in a trinket shop, and said, “man I ain’t got no money, I ain’t no rich guy”. He walked away, empty handed, and when I looked at the counter, the bags were gone, as was the mysterious displayer. I awoke.

The next dream took place in a grocery store. I was shopping with two of my coworkers, henceforth named Ray and Sally. I saw a pair of girls I had met and seen a few times in the last few months. They are 16 and 17 each, the younger with dark, blonde hair and the other with hair a shade of chestnut brown. The blonde wore it about shoulder shoulder length and she had dark highlights as well. The brunette’s came to midway down her back. I had come to act as a mentor to them, someone old enough to be thought of as knowledgeable about the world, but not so old that I would be unrelatable to them. The blonde would punch me lightly in the arm when I would make a sarcastic remark or when I would make a silly joke or when she was not feeling well. She had this sadness in her light blue eyes, a vestige of deep seated emotional trauma in the past. The brunette had known sorrows of her own, I could tell, but none as terrible as her friend’s, and so she would do her utmost to support her. That was how they had come to trust me and come to me for assistance, I was the first person they had known who could reach out to the blonde and make her feel safe opening up. I should point out that I do not use the terms ‘brunette’ and ‘blonde’ to trivialize them or diminish them as people, it is simply that within the dream. their names were not known to me, only pronouns were ever used between us. I would also like to note that I was aware of my coworker’s names. I left Jim and Sally to speak to the two girls. We sat on a bench, the blonde sitting between myself and the brunette as usual. She liked as though she had been crying and was still in pain.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“My head,” she bemoaned, “it’s been hurting all day, Tylenol doesn’t help at all.”
“Have you hit your head recently? Hard enough to give you a headache from it?”
“Well yeah, obviously,” this was said seriously, not as a sarcastic comeback, “but the headache came way before that”.
I thought to myself, ‘then it isn’t a concussion, though I shouldn’t rule that out if she frequently hits her head. Perhaps some dietary change?’
“Have you started eating different foods than usual? Or perhaps a new perfume, detergent, out fabric softener?”
“No, I’m using the same ones as always.”
“Hmmm, any new medications?”
She punched me in the arm and said, “oh yeah, my doctor started me on a new med. Ugh, if you’d just told me that was it a long time ago, I probably wouldn’t need to hit you so much.”
I chuckled, for her that was a joke, and I was glad to have rooted out the source of this issue. I stood up, and the blonde surprised me by taking my hands and swinging me about for a short while, the first smile on her face since I had meet her. I wondered if she had finally started to believe there was hope for her world to improve when she stopped dancing and let go of my hands.
“Well, we have to get back home, but thank you so much, I appreciate it.”. She rushed at me and have me a hug which I sob reciprocated. They left and I went to find my coworkers. When I caught up to them, they were frantically getting the last of what we had come for, other customers staring at us in awe. Many were exchanging whispers and I noticed that most were looking directly at me. Bewildered, I came to a halt as realization dawned over me. It wasn’t around town that I had met the girls, it was in past dreams. I began to feel panicked, I had imagined the whole exchange! Was I losing my mind? Or perhaps I was merely tired and strung out from work.
“Where’s the rush?” I asked them.
“Everybody saw you go and sit on a bench, talking to yourself,” Sadly began.
“And it didn’t help when you started doing that solo waltz,” Jim put in, “these people are frightened.”
Oddly enough, I did not get the impression my behavior was bizarre or even a little out of the ordinary to them, they were simply concerned that so many people had seen.
“What were you even daydreaming about?” Sally asked me.
“I’d seen these two girls I had come to know, they seemed so real but just now I realized they were from my dreams and if imagined them. Am I losing it?”
“Ooh,” Jim exclaimed with a wink and a nudge, “were you ‘tagging’ them in your dreams?” He’d emphasized the word ‘tagging’ with air quotes.
“No, nothing sick like that, I was like a mentor to them.”
“Ah, so you were giving them a big ‘learning curve?” Yet again, he used the wink, nudge and air quotes.
“No you perv, they were in high school.”
“Hey, I’m not the one dreaming about underage chicks.”
I was about to reply when Sally intervened.
“Alright you two,” she said scoldingly, “let’s just get out of here. Suddenly, we were at Jim’s truck. The groceries were already in the back and for some reason I had a red dolly, just like the ones we used at work. The others got into the truck and as began to enter, I awoke.

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man you can think someone is childish for liking stuffed animals and dressing up to go trick-or-treating and watching animated movies and anything else all you want but you want to know what is actually childish??? being rude because you think someone is childish for having fun and enjoying things when there are no age requirements to what can bring a person joy

someone’s not going to be invited into the blanket fort of happiness

and it’s you, my friend

(Source: jaclcfrost, via ladyjameson)