Understand My Dreams

Dreams pink

I walk from the upper floor, where the higher years mingle, down to the 2 1/2 floor. I look into glass walled study rooms. A girl I am interested in is there. She comes out and greets me with an uncharacteristcally friendly hug. She looks excited and relieved about something. She leads me towards the stairs that lead out of the building to a beautiful sunset over neatly kept lawns. Before we can decend she is urged by someone on her research team that something needs to finalize some details before submitting. She obliges and implores me to go ahead and she will catch up. I kiss the top right corner of her face and she rushes off with her team. I turn back the way I came to the open stairs that are white, unsupported, and look like they were built to replicate orbital paths. The roof makes the building look spherical. I walk downward and see some friends. I greet them without stopping. Something is on my mind. I have some objective, but I don't know what it is. The whole building shakes and the other stairs fall. People disappear without a trace. I notice a man wearing a dark pink or extremely faded red sweater with the hood up. He seems to be bald. He has a brown and round goatee. He is standing on a scaffolding a floor above me and about 10-20 meters ahead of me. He is armed with a rifle he needs two hands to fire. He sees me and lifts the gun against his should and fast walks towards an exit that leads outside of the building. I wake up in an apartment room. The walls begin at my hips. Beneath the wall there is just a railing like on a flimsy deck. I can see the floor below me. It's a hotel lobby. It's dirty and the lights make everything a shade of piss yellow. The door has a lock, and an opaque window that takes up most of the top center. There is a second opaque window that is as tall as the door on the same side as the lock on the door. Someone in the lobby came and asked about me. I lay down and pretend to be asleep since they could see me if I was standing. The man at the desk points to my room. The man asking about me is dressed in all black and is wearing a comically large brimmed hat with a red feather. He pulls a 2 meter long weapon from his suit case and aims it towards where he thinks I am sleeping and fires. It's less than a few inches from my head. The whole pours out light, white debris, and doves mixed in with both. I roll frantically, open my door and run as fast as I can away from the lobby. I exit the back door and see a bowling alley. People are bowling and buying booze. I am a little flabberghasted because just the night before it was a theatre. I remember following a young woman in a purple dress outside. She was crying, her boyfriend commanded her into the car. It was an expensive looking car. Her hair was done up in a nice looking bun. She saw me come to her rescue and she smiled and wiped her tears away and got into the car. Regardless of last night it was currently a bowling alley. The person behind the bar was an old friend. He offered me a beer. I drank a couple sips and thanked him before running out the far door and seeing my world. I was 20 years in the past outside of a thrift store wearing a varsity jacket and remembering when this thrift store used to be a bowling alley when I was a kid.

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