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We were coming home from an event in

We were coming home from an event in SW Portland, the sky was light but it was 2 am, we cruise down the hill and decide to cut through downtown to possibly catch a bus or at least save some extra time. As we enter downtown the sky becomes dark which i don't take note of. I am walking with two, maybe three other guys and suddenly a group of thugs start sulking slowly towards us, to trap us. We doge them with football like maneuvers but every other street we choose is worse and worse with the number of thugs. It was the feeling of not being able to run fast enough, not being able to will myself to run. I was running like a monkey at times, putting my two hands on the ground and dragging myself as fast as i could but the force overtook me. Finally we get to a cross street that is lit and there are close to 50 kids. Younger now, but at the age where they think they can take anything. I get onto the street and yell "Help, Police!" I even see a security guard scurry by into a door that promptly locks behind him. I am at a loss of what to do. I fear getting my ass kicked, or worse. I find a mail box (the big ones like you see downtown) and climb inside it. I feel safe in here. I can feel the walls, i can hear the thugs planning on how to get me out. They throw rocks at me but i feel i am so comfortable i could fall asleep right here. I come out of it and they are still there, so i get back inside. Now when i look forward (which feels like up) its like looking at the top of the inside of a tent while laying down. They are putting dirt on it but i have no fear. I know i am safe. I want to get out of this dream and realize that i do not have to be stuck here or fear this situation. I begin to push with what feels like my mind as well as my body to wake up, and a very strange visual of coming into conscious waking life while still getting the visual of the inside of the tent/mailbox.

Then i wake up fully.

I go back to sleep and i'm at a music festival with Ryan, possibly some others. We are listening to this funky reggae band that Ryan is really into. The show ends but we hang around, Ryan gets a bunch of autographs and chats with one of the rastas that agrees to come back to our camp and play some music with him. As we are walking i can see other towns in the distance with fireworks going off at all of them. I can pick out which towns are which (Vancouver, Seattle, Portland) so we must be in the forest in the NW. It feels like sasquatch. We meet up with Amy and the rasta is impatient and decides to meet up with him later. We walk back to our camp and pass a beautiful market full of cheese and bread, meats and produce all very fresh looking. I realize i do not have any cash and proceed to our camp. My father was there, had he been with us the entire time? I begin to question where he came from and he states that he has been with me the entire time. But no I say, it was Ryan who was with me. No Adam, it was me. Okay, well then are you Ryan as well as my father? How does this work Dad? Yes Adam, we are all the same. There is no distinction from where Ryan ends and I begin, as it is with everything. Then a woman who is working the festival comes up to our group and requests to see the contents of our bags, believing that we stole a parchment with something in it. I am hesitant because i have two bags of drugs that would surely be confiscated. I dump my bag smartly without opening one of the smaller pockets and she is aware of this but doesn't question me further. Ryan and Amy during that time sneak off, or attempt to, but nothing ever really happens.

Shit its almost noon, i need to wake up!

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