Warning: This whole thing is just me describing a dream- this may only be interesting to me.

So I developed a weird relationship while asleep last night.

I dreamt that I was in a dystopian alternate universe, where any open spaces we have now are removed in favour of 60's style "vision of the future" space age designed slums. Like if Walt Disney designed where we'd cram the most people, at the lowest income, for the lowest price. I was with a member of a policing group (it occurs to me that this is now the second time I've written about being a policeman- that would seem to be evidence that it happens a lot for me, but no, every time it comes up I've written it here.) And I was getting an introduction to how tough it is here. "You've gotta watch your back son- you can't trust anyone"
As our group patrolled along a waterfront a harbour police unit drove by and they felt extrememly sinister. I asked whether or not we could trust them. The "Sarge" said yes. I asked "Okay, we can trust them, but can we REALLY trust them??" spoken with all the genre savyness of a hard boiled Charles Bronson character. The Sarge of course was impressed and replied "No- you can't trust anyone."

Naturally it's less impressive when you remember- it's my dream. If the Sarge didn't answer in the affirmative (or however he could to make me cool) I was liable to stop dreaming about him all together.

Which I did right then- because we were all dismissed to go do our rounds, or crowd control, or something. I approached this railing of a bridge that was above me, I climbed up but before I could get up and over onto this safe platform this girl sees me and spits in my face.

Yes, she spit in my face, and made some disparaging remarks along the lines of "I can't believe in the other universe you were 'X'" I say X because I'm not quite sure who she said there, I've got a number of names and ideas in my head conflated on this subject. I expressed similar disbelief that she was 'Y'. Then I hit her with Christian Bale- or maybe a friend of mine dressed as Christian Bale... yes fine, dressed as Batman. It turned out he was a child's entertainer, but seemed more interested in entertaining HER (see what I did there?) So while perched at the base of a suddenly there slide this older woman gave me a crash course in forensically identifying whether or not a picture of taped on pipecleaners, paperclips, and glitter bits was made by a preschooler, or someone trying to make me THINK they were a preschooler. I tried to come up with clever descriptors for why each was different from the other but eventually was reduced to replying "that one's tiny-er" to each different point. I apparently passed my test with flying colours. Again, it was my dream.

But where do offscreen dream kids even GET paper clips and glitter that small- and why can't undercover adults with shady motivations get their hands on those same materials? It's a complicated world.

Things shifted quite a bit now, lying in an alcove just off from a grand stadium or ampitheatre. I was sitting with that girl who had spit in my face, but now I was trying to make her feel better because the guy who was in the Batman suit had ditched her and was making time with someone else. Then a random friend of mine showed up to give me a hug, that came out of nowhere.

There was somekind of show being organized in the theatre and I was recruited to sing a song- I had the words right in front of me, and it was really simple, so that rehersal went fine. Not long after that it was time for the actual performance, and I had some problems here.

First I needed my precious supply of condensed honey (I guess I was a sort of Bee Man now? But only in dietary needs?) but I DIDN'T HAVE THE TIME TO GET HOME before the concert. And I needed this stuff to live! Fortunately I was in a dungeon looking place, and through a window I could see two fist sized spheres of grainy looking honey. I found a door that led into that chamber, with only a short meter of a dark tunnel in my way. I had a penlight, or some source of light anyways, that didn't do much, but it got me through- I threw the first sphere in my mouth like my life depended on it, then ate a bunch of mini spheres also there, holding onto the last large fist sized sphere in case of emergency.

I returned to the ampitheatre, JUST IN TIME to give my performance, only I had no good clothes on to perform in (just jeans and a t-shirt) and I'd lost the paper with the lyrics- yes, I had forgotten the words, pretty stereotypical dream stuff right here. The woman organizing the show (also the woman who wanted me to learn kindergarten art forensics) gave me a paper, not with the full lyrics on it, that'd have been too helpful, but with a formula you could follow that would BE the lyrics. Basically "just sing the same line, but at the end of each line say W then X then Y then Z, with W,X,Y,Z being the words printed on the paper. Yes, I describe things with variables, I'm sorry!

I muddle my way through the performance (a performance that couldn't have been that well heard, what with me standing a good foot away from the microphone and leaning back while I hammed up the words- mumbling the actual preceeding lines- to get through. When in doubt, don't enunciate, you lout!) then quickly made my way off stage.

There I found some kind of fast food taco stand imbedded in the wall, and that girl (who spat in my face) was there. Something had changed, something to do with one of her parents... she was happier now. Or at least she seemed to like me now, whether or not that means happier or not I don't know. We made plans to meet up later. I climbed up the back stairs/hill out of the ampitheatre, past the taco stand, and into the open air, the exit behind me looking like the side door to any number of houses I could have lived in growing up, but is likely my house on Pharmacy where I spent my last years of high school.

I walked to the sidewalk, went around the corner, and arrived at some combination bus depot/car wash/gas station where I hung out with three people, a guy and two girls (one being the spit girl). The two girls were giving us a hard time because we didn't have jobs, like they did, at the depot-wash-station but we weren't impressed because they only had the jobs because their fathers owned the place.

Right about here is when I woke up, but only to press the snooze button- in the time between then (almost 11?) and when I actually got up (11:06ish) I dreamt I got a letter from that girl, it listed times I had been awake that night- some nebulous 6am time, an 8 am time, the almost 11 time (that may actually have been written down as 10:58am) and then 11:05

With a final line on the paper saying "THIS IS A TEST OF CHARACTER"

I immediately knew she was talking about being awake for the 11:11am Rememberance Day moment of silence, so I woke up again and thought to myself "test of character- passed" before I woke up more fully and realized I was sounding a) really silly and b)responding to a fake dream letter "out loud" (at least when you dream someone is there and calling you, it makes sense to call back- here I'm talking to a letter)

I thought it was pretty interesting to get a letter from a dream in the time before sleep and awake (that's a time descriptor, an accurate one for this instance, from Hook by the way) and knew come 11:14 am I'd be writing it down.

And I see I need to get to work on other things now. Also, probably only the beginning and end of this dream were particularly interesting. Well, maybe not- Bee Man eats honey before singing in ampitheatre sounds pretty good when you say it like that.