East Coast Wobble

Dreamed on 2020.01.02 We get the call to move out, and it startles us, but we do it. High energy, but focused, like a wolf pack, dressed in black. "This block?" "Naw, next. Some cabs. 010, I think is one of the numbers?" We run to the next. An uber, some cabs, and a small bus are pulling in. People are hopping in places, but we ignore the bus; they just want in on the action. I see a guy I know -- the older one, angular face, more... I don't know, South American features? -- I get in the same car as him. "Where we headed, cabbie?" "You know I can't say; security feature. I can confirm the code on your phone though." "I don't have the code, don't have a phone; just was told to get in." Cabbie shrugs and is right; it's not their problem. "You in? We going?" "Yeah, let's go." The city is a wreck. I mean, it's 2:30 AM on New Year's Day, and I thought that'd be enough anarchy

Dreamed on 2019.03.31 The totalitarian powers that be are keeping us in cells; musicians pair up with each other to compete; the winner moves on, the loser is killed (or at least, taken away and not seen again). Each time you have the option to keep the same instrument or change to a random new instrument. I'm not a musician; I'm one of the team that helps prep the musicians before their competitions and listens to them practice. One of the people in my room is my friend, who is performing on oboe, the instrument he studied. After he finishes practicing, a girl comes in on cello. It's also her instrument, but her arms are shaking and she can't get a consistent tone/pitch. "You've got this," I say, secretly and guiltily proud that my friend will probably win. She breaks into tears and the three of us hug her. She mumbles something angry that I don't hear, and I struggle to figure out how to word some sort of "things will be better after this, o

Dreamed on 2019.01.26 I'm in college and kinda becoming the next big thing, locally at least, as a visual artist. As I go about my day, people keep coming up to me all concerned, like, "Hey man, you okay?" and I say, "Yeah, I'm cool. Same as usual, what's up?" and they look at me like sadness has coiled around my heart, like I've self-injected a poison I may not recover from. "That parking garage stunt you pulled was something else man, don't ever do that again," someone says, and I quizzical at her, like, what? "Yeah," she says, "that shit you pulled." "What shit I pulled? What parking garage stunt?" And she shows me her phone where I'm standing on the edge saying I'm gonna jump across to the next building and I'm clearly raging on some cocktail of neurowrecking juices, and then this couple I've never met before talk me down. So you know, I sleuth it up and find this couple. "Yeah