Dream Log Archive

Category: My Hometown

  • September 22, 2024

    (racetrack event / waiting for pickup / suspension explanation)

    I’m at the My Company racetrack in Hometown, near the library parking lot, for an event. Sister and Sister’s Husband go home, and I stay for a while before calling to get picked up.

    As I leave, HS Chinese Teacher’s son from my school trip to China comes to pick me up. We cross the street toward the Belfry, and he runs down toward the park to get his car. I move closer to the racetrack parking lot so he doesn’t have to come as far.

    He gets stuck in a line trying to get his car out. I end up waiting in a different line where people are getting rental cars. Near the back of a large group, people are dressed vaguely as Mario and Luigi. I pass by a pair talking about using a AAA card to rent. Apparently the card will be wrapped by the service. The rentals are only for use around the racetrack and have to be returned if you go farther. This is meant to prevent pollution by keeping the cars within the same climate area.

    I’m near a group with a dad and a girl dressed as Mario, a man dressed loosely as Luigi, and another man in a black hoodie. The man in the hoodie is confused about the racetrack and keeps talking about suspension. He jokes that they must be proud of creating a little ball, clearly not understanding what suspension is.

    I interrupt and try to explain. I say that suspension involves the front forks and rear cushions, using springs and oil. The man tries to cut in, but I keep going. I explain that the oil has a property where its mass doesn’t change when compressed, and when it’s forced through a small hole, it resists compression and maintains its volume, which reduces how much you feel bumps.

  • April 22, 2020

    (bus rides / support group / sex event escape)

    I’m being transported along with others on a set of buses—several yellow school buses and one small nine-seat shuttle. I’m on the shuttle, which is completely full, while the other buses are less crowded.

    On the way there, I sit near the front, but on the return trip I sit in the back. At one point on the return, I’m the only passenger left, and I chat with the driver as we pass Neighbor J’s house.

    I’m in Hometown Center, working at a company on the third floor of my high school’s math building. The job feels boring, maybe something like accounting, and my desk space is small.

    HS Friend A works at a McDonald’s nearby. I stop by with a friend during lunch and try to get her to come with us, but she says she can’t because her boss would fire her if he found out. We still talk briefly outside.

    I go to a small studio for a group conversation. We sit in a circle of chairs and talk—it feels like a support group setting, but not centered on any specific issue.

    A boy shares a memory from childhood where he tried to look openly at gay things, but his mother redirected him, telling him that “normal” people looked at cute fuzzy animal characters when they liked things like that. He grows up to become a major voice in furry forums, with his mother continuing to help him hide things from his father.

    Later, there’s a nighttime event on the floor of my high school science building. People are bringing in pairs for some kind of tribal-like hate-sex. The first pair is two drag queens, who are also sex workers. I don’t stay till the end, leaving a bit early to head back to work.

    When I go back toward work, the bosses are in a meeting and have taken over the office space, forcing everyone else into the hallway. I decide to leave instead.

    Downstairs, I find Language School Classmate A, who is a popular child actress. She asks where we are, and I realize she is supposed to be next in the hate-sex show but hasn’t been told about the event.

    I decide to protect her and take her home. We manage to get out of the high school building before we start being chased. I pick her up to run faster, but my limbs feel slow and uncoordinated. I end up pushing myself forward using both my arms and legs, almost crawling, trying to get her to safety.