New Angeles or Los York
I don't know what's going on with my brain but the dreams keep coming. I am starting to wonder if sleep deprivation is a part of it. It seems that the less I sleep the more likely I am to remember that I dreamed. New Angeles isn't particularly interesting except for the fact that when I recalled it I felt a need to move away from Charlotte, finally. I felt like this is it, now or never. Not that I will move in the next few months, I have to finish work with my dad first. But I am going to put a move into motion by the beginning of next year I will no longer live in Charlotte. Now on to the dream.
The city felt like Los Angeles but it was cold like New York. There were eclectic shops and, most important to me, a movie theater that played films that would never play in Charlotte. It felt different and fascinating. Then I decided to get a hair cut. At the time I did need a hair cut but why I needed one in my dream I don't know. The barber was busy so I pulled up a lounge chair outside grabbed a blanket and people watched. They were all a blur but interesting to watch. Watching the people go about their lives it dawned on me that the barber didn't accept credit cards. The barber shop was a storefront with a wall or two on the inside and opened up into an alley. The alley had stalls with artists selling paintings and vendors selling posters. hidden behind one of the poster stalls was a Wachovia ATM. Convenient that there was a Wachovia ATM because I'm cheap and hate paying ATM fees. But I do so love paying late fees, at least now it's contained to the library. That is the end of it. I never did get my haircut. Maybe tonight I'll dream about washing my car in Detroit. Some people have sex dreams, others have dreams like acid trips, me I dream about getting a haircut. My brain is awesome.
The city felt like Los Angeles but it was cold like New York. There were eclectic shops and, most important to me, a movie theater that played films that would never play in Charlotte. It felt different and fascinating. Then I decided to get a hair cut. At the time I did need a hair cut but why I needed one in my dream I don't know. The barber was busy so I pulled up a lounge chair outside grabbed a blanket and people watched. They were all a blur but interesting to watch. Watching the people go about their lives it dawned on me that the barber didn't accept credit cards. The barber shop was a storefront with a wall or two on the inside and opened up into an alley. The alley had stalls with artists selling paintings and vendors selling posters. hidden behind one of the poster stalls was a Wachovia ATM. Convenient that there was a Wachovia ATM because I'm cheap and hate paying ATM fees. But I do so love paying late fees, at least now it's contained to the library. That is the end of it. I never did get my haircut. Maybe tonight I'll dream about washing my car in Detroit. Some people have sex dreams, others have dreams like acid trips, me I dream about getting a haircut. My brain is awesome.