Recent DJ Posts

I was asked by a woman to stack some timber planks that she wanted to sell. As I was stacking them I noticed that they gave off a subtle ringing sound - musical and very pleasant. I mentioned it to the lady and she wanted to hear it for herself, but when I showed her, the musical sound didn't happen.

Stacking Timbres = 170
The Voice Within = 170
Information field = 170
Spiritual path = 170

My friend Chris has his own local tabletop RPG going from within our friend group irl called space D&D, which as of writing this I have made a character for and have been excited to play, but it's kept getting delayed for whatever reason. In this dream, I was at my old house waiting for him to be online for it, working on my Scottish accent for the character I intended to play. I asked my fiance what he thought and he jokingly said it was a 5 or 6/10 accent. I was in the kitchen when I saw chris and a few other people on a call, so I excitedly bolted upstairs and got on the call while shouting "YEEEAAAAHHHH!!!". I joined as people were talking about their families, but I could tell something was off in their intonation, along with the fact that I didn't recognize a lot of the voices in the call. With this realization, I started to feel defeated and frustrated, because by this point I could tell none of this was real. I then woke up.

I was observing a wedding between a muslim woman and some white dude outside of the commissary where I work and it devolved into a debate on gay marriage. I was on my computer looking at the imaginary track "horns don't work" off of my actual 2017 album "another whisper in the wall" when someone (possibly the groom) came up to me and asked whar I thought, after which I had an intense mental breakdown where I expressed that I didn't care and just wanted to look at Reddit, which I was presently scrolling for memes about estrogen. Afterwards I was trying to find a good guitar tone for my new album because the night before irl I was watching a video where in the comments section they were talking about how a low gain guitar tone with a punchy kick drum and thick bass tone can sound super heavy. In the dream I was tweaking the track "answer the phone" off of my 2021 album "The Sawn Off Horn". For whatever reason, this was in a real life interface, for lack of a better term. I was outside a building and the different mixing channels that you would normally find in FL Studio were hidden inside bushes. Once I found the distortion plugin for the guitar, I woke up.

+ meet rich girl (deep voice?) on HC outside the Man' house. Go over hedge to her house. HUGE yard, lawn massive and rolling over acres, big house, and in the distance, a large body of water

+ in a mall, at top of escalator, waiting for the highspeed mini-transit train to drive by so I can cross its path without getting hit

+ [very vivid] on bus[DS], shaking hands with people, they're congratulating me. My dad comes up I shake his hand, I think this is ridiculous and hug him. Get off bus, walking along sidewalk. Daytime. Road to my left. There is a large crew of young people pruning the trees/bushes on the sidewalk. They are harvesting a particular type of flower (light violet color). I see some trees have been pruned down to the bare trunk, I think that this may be over-pruning. Walking along to my right there is a hillside that slopes (medium steep) down to the path. There is about a 6 foot height to the base of the hill from the sidewalk (so you'd need a ladder to get access to the hill). There are vegetable gardens packed together on the hillside. Mostly green onions. I think about going and plucking some from there. Walking along, and noticing all the vegetable plots. Then I think that I'd like to go to the market, which is on my left, where the vendors are who grow those vegetables, and I could buy some produce from them.

+ [impession: playing/thinking about chess]

In which people from the trucker convoy and a guy from a podcast are staying at my house...

Trucker convoy people arrive at my house demanding room and board. Tom Sexton is with them, wearing a skimmer hat and a wrinkled flannel shirt with a pin-on badge that reads Press. I stand on my front porch begging everyone to wipe the mud off their shoes as they push their way into my house.

Everyone is loud and demanding food so I rush into the kitchen and start cooking shepherd's pie. My counters are conveyer belts and the ingredients come to me faster than I can assemble them. I put green jello on the bottom, hamburger meat on top, then mashed potatoes and cheese on top of that. I serve it to the truckers. A woman trucker with a shaved-underneath haircut takes a picture and posts it on Instagram. She labels it #JelloTrudeau and everyone laughs as if this is spectacularly witty. They start chanting Let's Jello Brandon! over and over again, then they scoop the jello up in spoons and flick it with their thumbs, flinging green jello across my muddied house.


In which I discover a secret room under our bed...

I'm vacuuming under the bed when the edge of the hose gets snagged on a nail in the floor. I push the bed aside to investigate, and I see light shine up from around the sides of the floor board. I use my rotary cutter to remove the piece of wood as if it were fabric, then I lift it out. I look down into a dining room with a rustic wooden table set before a stone fireplace. An old woman kneels in front of it, rubbing two sticks together and trying to start a fire. I shout at her to stop because her fireplace has no chimney and it would set my bedroom on fire. She tells me that while my house would've indeed burned down, it would've given me immortality but now I've spoiled the ritual. I ask her if she's the one that set the porch fires in Sequim, and I rush outside to see a deer in my garden box eating my tulips.