I was walking into a book store. I was possibly looking for a bathroom, but was attracted to walking toward the left to an isle with a low book rack. I turned left into it and there on a shelf to the left again was a music cassette by someone by the name of “Sean Imler.” I knew this wasn’t me and was relieved that I hadn’t chosen Sean Imler as my stage name. The title of the cassette was something like, “Raca” and there seemed to be a Hawaiin theme or element about it.

Suddenly, I was in a tent and I was watching Sean Imler do some sort of performance. He was about my height and pale complected with very long wavy hair that was pulled into a ponytail. I believe he was wearing a hat and was dressed in a colourful sarrong sort of garb with a simple loing sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The dance consisted of him holding a hand-made ceremonial bowl possibly made out of banana leaves, and he was simulating scooping up something, water or food, and then offering it to the spirits or gods. He was doing this to his music which seemed to be some sort of traditional Hawaiin or combination of Hawaiin and something else.

I remember thinking that he had a wife or lived there in a camp or something.

I was riding my filing drawer down the street… sitting on top of it and using my legs to propel me.  I was juggling a number of objects while trying to talk on my celly with the wired earbud in and the cord was getting in the way.  I was holding my Yahoo! star, plus a miniature version of it, and some other objects when I realized that I had a new hands free device that I would rather be talking on so I was trying to disconnect the wired earbud and get the hands free out of my pocket while holding all this stuff.  Other co-workers were walking along with me but one I knew happened to mention that I looked like I was quite busy with all this stuff and still having to push off with my legs.  I told her that it got better than that, reached forward and pushed a button on the front of the filing drawer that made it automatically go by itself.  It was going quite fast as I turned the corner and said goodbye too her.

Suddenly, I was on the street I grew up on heading toward my mother’s house.  Lined up on both sides of the street were 60’s and 70’s muscle cars, all painted in red, white and blue metal flake paint, with stars and stripes.  They were all beautiful machines, and occasionally I’d see someone with the car.  As I get to my mom’s house which for some reason I associated with work, I realized that it was 10:32am and I was too late for breakfast.  I was disappointed until I noticed that at Dorothy’s across the street, there were 3 chefs making some sort of pasta, ham thing with a cream sauce.  I walked over and explained that I’d missed breakfast and really wanted some of their food.

It was then that I woke up, turned over and looked at the clock and it read 10:32.  Weird.

I was walking down an aisle at a large concert and U2 or just Bono was playing from a seat in the audience.  I sat down behind him and kinda nodded hello.  There was an open space next to the seat and then another seat where Bono 15 years younger with long hair was sitting.  The Bono that was playing started talking too me in between verses of the song and while playing guitar.  He was nodding toward the open space but I couldn’t really understand what he was saying though I tried.  I thought maybe I was sitting in someone else’s seat and maybe he wanted me to sit in the open space but I couldn’t make it out.  He finished his song and turned around.  The other Bono pulled out a lawn chair and set it in the open space and sat down in it.  Then he pulled up a large box and started pulling out sleeveless basketball tees.  He had them in white, red and black with yellow numbers.   I asked for a medium and he gave me a red one with the number 5 on it.  Then I saw my co-worker Issac walking by and wondered if I was in his seat and asked him if he wanted to sit down but he seemed to be focused on something else.

Kirby and I were driving south on 17, around the curve in between Hamilton and Camden.  It was late at night and there was a moderate amount of traffic flowing with us.  Suddenly, cars were coming toward us in the wrong direction.  It really freaked me out and I started to panic and slow down.  But as I did, a large vehicle came straight at us and there was nowhere to go so I hit the breaks and slid my truck sideways, going directly at the vehicle leading by the driver’s side door.  We stopped just in time and the only damage was a round puncture into my door by the front-end of the vehicle.  I rolled down my window and poked my head out to observe how I’d come so close to being crushed as Kirby got out of the truck and walked away.  I wondered what on earth he was doing as I watched him walk right off the freeway into a neighborhood.  I drove off after him and picked him up, but as we drove further into the neighborhood, we arrived at a t junction where again he got out and walked away into the night, through a park and out of my sight.  I couldn’t follow and peered up the street into this foreign neighborhood wondering what to do next.

I was on a beach with a pretty Asian girl that reminded me of my co-worker, Grace.  She had long beautiful black hair and it looked like she was modeling for a photographer.  The next thing I know, we’re in a restaurant called Carpa Diem.  Their logo was printed on a larger silk tapestry that hung from the ceiling down to the floor, royal blue batik style.  On it was an upside-down koi fish, thus, the carp in Carpa.  It was styled tribal like with thick black lines that began and ended in points.  It was beautiful to behold.