We were testing out a role-playing game and trying to create a new game mechanic to get onto a train/travel across the world efficiently. Somehow we had gotten to the point of suggesting that when one stirred some kind wasabi-like paste with soy sauce, the player is teleported onto the train across the valley from the watchtower. “That’s too complicated”, someone said. They also added how it potentially excluded some people from ever taking advantage of the railways. They suggest that instead we made a new minecart line that cut straight through the mountains, parallel to the high speed rail.

I was standing at the top of the amphitheater after the storm had passed through our campus. The canyon was now mostly dried up. What remained were simply large pools of green water among the white stones. I walked down the aisle as I heard a voice warning me about the water. There were two layers of water, and upon coming into contact with the deeper portion one would get dragged into the pool and drown. I hopped around the riverbed, searching for a stick to see the sinking effect for myself when someone came walking down with their puppy. “This area isn’t open to visitors”, they said. I thought that I must’ve missed a sign somewhere when I walked down.

We were sailing through the column of pink fluid in our ship as I took in deep breaths.

We were taking a train back home from a newly opened theme park. I had just noticed that there were new decorative installations for a Zelda anniversary around the station. Most of them were benches scattered across the clouds.

I was thinking about watching the 2003 version of Fullmetal Alchemist. A video was playing on the projector as we talked about the industry*. It dubbed the “insomniac of insomnia” as an “anongniac”**. Someone commented about the countdown.

We were in the middle of watching JoJo and before we started the next episode, I told everyone that I was going to shower and would be right back. We were on strike for something, but I didn’t know what. When I stepped out of the shower stall, I was informed that we couldn’t be on strike because we weren’t a part of anything in the first place. I looked up to see hundreds of blue bottles of shampoo on the metal racks on the wall.

We walked through the amusement park with the tour guide who was describing ways to hide past records of smoking. She took out example forms that one could fill out.

My brother and I were riding on a tandem bike while my mom and aunt were on a bike ahead of us. We had gotten lost so we stopped to ask someone for directions. Soon after, my brother and I took the lead. A few minutes in, I noticed that the other two were no longer following us. My brother realized that we were headed straight for the “enemy”. I took a quick left into the alleyway to find ourselves surrounded by houses and neatly trimmed hedges.

As I walked through the school hallway, I overheard the people around me talking about how classes might be ending early at 2PM today due to the weather. My name was being broadcasted over the speakers; I was to meet with a teacher to talk about a math test I had taken. Apparently she wanted to know why I got a near perfect score yet got two extremely simple questions wrong. I told her that the graphs on the exam “[said] nothing about the states of hiking or miking.” I quickly realized that I had somehow missed the labels on the axes of the graph. “Oh wait it does…”, I corrected myself.

As a part of an in-class demonstration, our teacher recalled a dream that she once had. The dream was ‘prepackaged’, meaning that we were able to experience exactly as she had. The dream revolved around an immortal man. We drove past a broken down Ferris Wheel that was rumored to be his resting place. When I turned around, I found myself surrounded by all the dead people that he had ever loved throughout the centuries of his existence.