7/30/19

My house was on fire.

Last night, I was in the house I grew up in on Cassamia Place in Charlotte. I snuck out of the house to go to a party at my neighbor’s (my neighbor in Dallas but for some reason he lived down the street from me). So, I drove to go meet him outside of his apartment (which later turned into a house) and when I got there he was smoking a mango juul (which was great because I was out of juul pods and really needed a hit).

We walked upstairs to his apartment where all of his friends were making Mexican food for dinner- quesadillas (I had a quesadilla for dinner last night) queso, tacos, etc. and they were all playing drinking games and doing drugs. My friend Bradly (who just moved to Pittsburgh) was there, also smoking a juul, Later on my friend Olivia (who used to sort of date Bradly) showed up, but that is another story. So, at this “party” I was basically in my pajamas and did not have the wherewith all to comprehend exactly what was going on around me. I just wanted to smoke the juul and my neighbor kept accusing me of only coming over to smoke his juul (he was right).

Once my friend Olivia showed up, things got interesting. I believe we were kissing on multiple occasions and we kept sneaking away into the kitchen for more food. I didn’t want to eat in front of anyone though- only when no one was looking. At one point during the party, I got high and then other people from my high school showed up and I was trying to talk to them but all i kept thinking was “That Paige Pottybrain (not really her last name- this vapid bitch I grew up with who literally has nothing going for her) I just can’t seem to figure her out” because I was trying to talk to her and she kept ignoring me- probably because she is vapid and has nothign floating around in her pea-sized brain.

Anyway, moving right along. It was getting time for me to go (at this point it was 4:30 AM) so I told my neighbor, Alex, goodbye and I left with one of my high school friend’s. This was when the apartment turned into a house down the street from my Cassamia house. We started walking home and suddenly, we watched about five front doors open and five girls walk out and go into different houses as if sneaking out of their shakers’ abodes. It was hilarious and I was cracking up, until we ran into my other neighbors who were all in bathrobes on a casual morning stroll… at 4:30 AM. This was even weirder because it was this girl I work with who just had a baby but in my dream she was still pregnant… she was walking with her parents and they were judging me.

SO, I sped right along past them and then noticed something strange… there was smoke coming from my house. I walked up and saw the fire coming from a tree that was standing over my car. The car and entire tree was on fire.

At this point, I was ready to run to get the hose and put out the fire but in my dreams, my feet always turn into cement and I can never move faster than a glacial pace. This time was different. In my dream I told myself no, you are going to run this time, and (at some point I lost my shoes because I was now barefoot…) I ran. Fast.

And then I woke up.

Food for thought:

Is there significance or symbolism behind my ability to finally run? Did it have anything to do with the fact that I was trying to save my burning house?

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