/**
 * file: journal_karbytes_01november2024.txt
 * type: plain-text
 * date: 01_NOVEMBER_2024
 * author: karbytes
 * license: PUBLIC_DOMAIN
 */

This morning I had a dream which seemed rather complex; almost like having a second life in a parallel universe. The dream featured AJP and one or a few of his techie friends who were part of some startup software engineering firm or business. We were at some Bay Area ice cream shop which seemed vaguely Filipino and which featured flavors named after the aforementioned software engineering firm or founder. The dream progressed to us being at a large partially indoor and partially outdoor party at night in what looked like a combination of an airport, a Las Vegas casino, and Disneyland. I was happy to be “catching up with” AJP as though for the first time and I was climbing up some kind of hill whose surface was some kind of woven basket material when I saw red and blue flashing lights and then two cops casually breaking up the party and ordering everyone there to leave. I saw some black guy try to steal a few more drinks of alcohol from some bronze ashtray goblet and his friend said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” and then both of them tried getting multiple last shots from that goblet. I was walking with a wine glass which appeared to have red wine in it but was actually being used by me as a weed bong. I was walking alongside AJP at that point on our way out of the party. He asked me for a hit of my weed. Before giving him my bong, I inhaled the remaining cloud of weed vapor in a humorous manner. Then the dream flashed to traveling around by shuttle bus and walking/floating/teleporting around what was supposedly Oakland or North Bay but which looked like Sunnyvale sloughs with ferry docks, wooden walkways, ports for cargo ships, and small houses and commercial buildings. It looked beautiful and I heard AJP say to me, “You are one of us. I feel like I’m in the walls of your blog.” I replied that I love being at the sea-level and watery part of the Bay Area; that region we were at in particular. There was a stadium vaguely nearby with people (including young kids) walking in and out of it and loitering in some tunnel I flew back and forth through while putting together some kind of exhibit displaying books I assembled to create some kind of message I especially wanted AJP to find. We were apparently at AJP’s little house and I left my stuff at his house to go out briefly to finish the aforementioned errand (or some other errands) and was excited to find north of AJP’s current house what I remember being his previous house in that dream world (as in I had a deep sense of history about that world as though I had been living in it for years). I was then somehow on a shuttle bus and the black lady driving asked me if that was my stop when she stopped to let some young Asian guy off the bus near AJP’s old house. I said my stop was a little further down the route. She asked if I knew where I was. I saw what looked like Levi Stadium next to the largest expanse of water and said I recognized the stadium was Oakland Collesium. Then I met up with AJP and his startup founder friend (who seemed like some kind of Asian or Filipino guy) who had some moniker. Those people assigned a moniker to me which appeared on some kind of screen with handwriting being written on it seemingly by a ghost. First I was assigned the moniker Preposterous Capsule and then REI with a minimalist pine tree drawn to the right of it. Then my seat in the moving frame of reference turned into a single-person armchair and AJP got up from where he was sitting next to me on what seemed like a bench or couch and sat on the left side of his other friend on the same bench/couch while that friend was sitting between AJP and me. Then I woke up near actual Sunnyvale sloughs. I saw that the employment agency recruiter I had been corresponding with during the past three days had sent me a text message requesting two forms of identification. I sent pictures of them and am now scheduled for a job interview in Milpitas next week.