I feel like I dream all night sometimes. This will be abbreviated due to its length.
The dream began in a city. It wasn't day, nor was it night; it was something like a twilight with no memory of the sunset and no hope for a sunrise.
I was hanging out in my apartment on the fourth floor of an eight-story brick building. My room was kindly lit by a few heavily diffused lamps. I had a television that I never used. I was reading a book by Sinclair Lewis (that, in real life, doesn't exist) about Native Americans living during the Industrial Revolution.
After reading for a while, I decided to go grocery shopping. Before I could make it out my door, however, I was distracted by a yo-yo I had on my dresser. I stopped to play with it for a while, then went on my way.
Outside the apartment I could hear faint hints of arguments, diluted by traffic and the wheezing of factories. I walked to my red bicycle and, after unchaining it, realized I needed to take it into the bike shop to get a tune-up, so I forsook grocery shopping.
I walked my bike down the long, busy streets, past mimes, jugglers, and buskers, to the local bike shop. There I was greeted by a black-haired teen employee who let me know how knowledgable he was of bikes before he took mine into the back. As I waited I browsed the colorful and shiny bikes displayed in the store. However, my eyes were soon distracted by a young woman who entered the shop to get a tune up for her bike.
I watched her hand the bike off to the same teen, and she seemed to have a grace about her. She caught me looking at her, but I didn't, somehow, feel awkward. She approached me and began talking to me as if we were longtime friends. We connected so strongly, and I desired for the bike-smart teen to not be as knowledgable as he let on so that our tune-ups would take longer.
Regardless, the tune-up ended soon than I desired, and I was given my bike, and she was given hers. We walked out of the store together and I was sure that we would work out a time to see each other again.
But that was disturbed by a young man with black hair, a patchy black "beard" (he would have called it a beard, but it may not have been worthy of the name), and a black polo. He put his arm around the young woman with whom I'd gotten along so well and proceeded to mock me. His aggression caused me to stutter as I tried to continue talking to the woman, giving the man more material with which he made me look (or feel) to be a fool. He walked away with her, leaving me sad.
I didn't even ride my bike back to the apartment. I had a difficult enough time putting one foot in front of the other. It was more than my fallen hopes in this young woman. When I returned to the apartment, I thought a shower would make me feel better. I placed my bike in the bike rack and found an outdoor shower near my apartment where I proceeded to strip down to my boxers. I jumped into the ice cold water, exposed to the public. An older Italian man was shouting at me as I washed my back, claiming that I was disturbing the peace and that I should leave, but I ignored him until my shower was finished.
I did eventually take his advice, and I hailed a cab and rode it out of the city and up a mountain.
(I'll skip some of these even more boring details). I walked around a bit, observing the flowers that managed to grow out from rocks. They were all bright white and yellow, contrasting the dreariness of the twilight and fog.
Eventually I was joined by Neil Silveus, and he persuaded me to come down from the mountain back into the city. He told me he wanted me to accompany him to a film festival, so I followed him.
We walked through a strange cabin that was near the base of the mountain (after a long hike down), and ran into a couple characters from the sitcom "Friends" (I never watched the show, so I don't really know who is who other than Jennifer Aniston and perhaps a guy named Joey or Ross or both). Jennifer and Joey (I think) were acting out a scene, arguing about something. When we walked in, they acted as if were weren't there. Soon after we entered, spirits of celebrities began to appear in the cabin. First came Brendan Fraser, who said, "I knew the cameo was a bad idea!" Then some famous female celebrity appeared, followed by the spirit of Wilt Chamberlain, who was wearing Big Bird's head. Wilt looked down at me (through Big Bird's eyes) and said something muffled about basketball.
Neil finally pulled me out of the cabin and into the theater where the film festival was taking place. I sat down next to Danny and Josh from Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. and watched a film about a swimming instructor who fell in love with a bicyclist. After that film played, there was an intermission, and I followed the Jr. Jr. guys into a special fancy suite were beautiful and delicious food was sitting there waiting for us. I ate of it and studied the interesting furniture supposedly designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.
Then I awoke.
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