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A friend is releasing his album and touring Europe at the moment: Hallelujah.

Actually his kids are more my friends than him. I don't know him very well. But I get to hang with the kids when he tours for a month. Mom is ready for some help.

The Introverted Thinker is off to college, leaving the 14th. And I've left her home life guarding while I am back visiting family on the east coast. I am avoiding the dysfunctional family and the end of this trip will be my ex-husband's stepfather's 90th birthday. I am seeing the Extroverted Feeler, done with college and in his first post college job. Two aunts and my uncle, a cousin I haven't seen in years, meeting his wife and two children. Old friends.

The dysfunctional family will have to dys along without me. Isn't it hard to walk away from a bad habit, from relationships where you are told you are loved but the love takes a dark form? How do you figure out how to build and nurture healthy relationships if you are raised with unhealthy ones? I think you have to build slowly, slowly, slowly and then quietly...

...go to the future.

At least, that's what I hope I am doing....

Transcription of a dream log written on August 31, 2016, my ninth day in Blue Azimuth.1

Strange dreams the last 2 or 3 nights—wake up half-thinking that I am still in the world of the dream, a feeling that wears off with time & directing my focus toward the sights, sounds, etc. of my surroundings—dreams incorporate Blue Azimuth in some way.

1st dream

All I remember is that Ben had to write a paper about the Bill of Rights.

2nd dream

Recall a scene where three humanoid mechs (appearance sim. to Voltron or Gurren Lagann) piloted by people I knew jumped into an open chamber in the ground. Then a pair of thick horizontal metal doors slid shut over the chamber, covering the mechs from the neck down. A thin telescoping radio antenna extended upward and backward from the base of each of the mech's necks, at which point I could hear the pilots announcing what show each of them was watching. The only show I recognized/remembered was Gurren Lagann.

Recall another scene: me standing in the family room, wearing my dirty Blue Azimuth clothes and a bandana headband. I've just returned from some ambiguous place after being away from home for 2 months. I'm having a heated conversation with my parents who are seated on the couch. They ask me, "What have you become?" in shocked disapproving voices. I tell them that I'm changed, that I'm better, that I'm a terrorist now. I remember being some kind of rebel or freedom fighter, the cause I can't recall but I remember opposing an oppressive, dystopian government (the subtle sort, I think) that had branded me a terrorist. I think the dream may have culminated in a face-to-face conversation with the head of the government. Recall waking up in a delirium, thinking for a few minutes that I was still in that world, a member of the rebel coalition, Blue Azimuth.

3rd dream

These scenes happened over the course of an interrupted dream cycle, I kept waking up (often with that delirious anxiety previously described) from the/a dream only to quickly fall back into it or another.

Recall a scene: me and this guy whose face or identity I cannot recall (we'll call him Buddy, since I know that he was my good buddy) are chilling with these two girls, a brunette (my companion, I think she looked a lot like Meredith) and a blonde (Buddy's companion), at a party in someone's backyard. I'm pretty sure Buddy and I had had sex with these girls, and done other funtivities, in prior scene(s). So we're all talking, having a good time, until I or Buddy mentions something that incriminates us in an offense that I know we perpetrated but now, as I write this, cannot remember what it was. In this moment, the girls vanish, emerging from around the side of the house, now wearing Elvis costumes complete with pompadours and menacing glares. I believe one or both of them was brandishing melee weaponry (I only say melee because they did not fire upon us) but the shapes are too hazy to make out. They are advancing upon us. Buddy and I realize what's going on: these chicks were undercover, presumably for a police organization but I couldn't tell you with certainty. We book it and the girls make chase. Even though the girls only look to be a few yards behind us, I say that we're "2 hours ahead of them," enough time to catch the new movie whose title I can't remember now (I believe it was a comedy though). So we duck into the theater, the girls continuing to race down the sidewalk as if still in hot pursuit.

Smash cut to two hours later, Buddy and I exit the theater doors into a bare hallway, like the outside of a restroom or something. Buddy and I are now wearing disguises: light-grey tank tops, red horn-rimmed (like Wayfarer-style) glasses like what Sheala2 wears, blonde mohwaks. The girls, wearing the same disguises, faces now looking like Sheala's, walk down from the opposite end of the hall and stop in front of us. In this moment of pause, I'm pretty sure we all know who each of us really is. We each say, "Hi, Shay," to one another, and resume walking in our respective directions. The view is now letterboxed (or maybe the camera zooms out) and I can hear my voiceover, "And that's one of my favorite movies" (or something like that).

1For our purposes, the name of the wilderness therapy program I was in at the time I wrote this.
2For our purposes, the name of one of my guides.

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