September 27, 2020

I was watching a musical that pulled a series of fake-out endings towards the end of the show. At first it was a relatively depressing story about some children, but then the epilogue showed a happy ending. Then moments later it was revealed that the entire thing had been a dream of the main character, rendering both the despair and happy endings as mere figments of imagination. I thought about the metanarrative of how either “endings” would have been preferable to the one that we got.

After walking out of the theater I looked for my friend who was carrying my stuff for me. Wallet. Phone. Car keys. Map. I listed them as he took them out from his backpack one by one. However, the map was actually broken into puzzle pieces, and he asked me how I wanted them. I told him it was fine to pour it onto the grass or sidewalk, which he did.

“Aw fuck man”, I swore as I immediately regretted that decision. It was now all over the place, with possibly some pieces stuck in the gap between the dirt and the pavement. An acquaintance glared at me as she walked past.

–

I was tasked with looking at 3-4 houses every morning at 9. Each tour took about 30 minutes back-to-back and most of the dilapidated houses were still “inhabited” by the undead. They would hop towards any visitors on all fours like a bunny, and the “standard” way of dealing with them was by twisting their necks off.

I heard my dad calling me out of the house to look behind a truck on the other side of the street. He said there was a pack of dogs there but when I walked over there was only one sitting on the pavement.

–

My parents asked me how I usually address my boss. They were curious because they were also good friends. I told them I called him by his first name, but my coworkers used his initials.

–

I was picking up some trash in the garden when an acquaintance tried to engage me in a conversation about politics but kept bringing up racist talking points about blacks. I pretended to not hear him until he started shouting so loudly that security took him away.

I walked back to the hotel and took out my wallet to check what room I was staying at: Room 234. When I got to the second floor I realized I was in the swim shorts the whole time. I backtracked a couple of times trying to find my room and found out that a friend was staying just two rooms over from mine.