Dream recorded: 10/30/2026
I was in a neighborhood, but I was driving to avoid someone.
When I started, I was driving my car through this rural area.
All, like, trailer homes and dust.
And I was able to avoid them by turning into a back alley of trailer metal homes.
And I guess I knew this neighborhood.
There was a white family inside.
You had to take your shoes off before you came into the trailer.
And there was family everywhere.
It was Memaw and Pop Pop, the grandparents, 4 women, young, in their 20s, and 5 guys, young, in their 20s, some 30s.
They were having babies.
There was one baby.
He was so big, just handsome, named John John.
I couldn’t believe how big he was for just 11 months old.
One of the babies was on top of the hood of the car.
Somehow the car was also in the house.
Or maybe the garage of the house.
It was trailers, like rigged to look like a home with a garage.
And the baby was just having its feet in the air, playing with its toes.
And I was like, “Well, you gotta watch and make sure he doesn’t roll over.”
And one of the guys noticed and made sure he stood next to the baby so he couldn’t roll over.
It’s almost like I had authority here for some weird reason.
The grandma and the grandpa were cutting up all these apples.
I wasn’t really paying attention to what they were doing, but the person I was trying to avoid might have still been outside driving.
So I hung out and entertained with them.
I was giving the family advice or something.
They needed something, and I gave them something.
And then I went outside, back to the car to leave, but realized I didn’t have my shoes on.
So I went back inside, and the grandma caught me in the kitchen.
And I told her I was so comfortable I forgot my shoes.
And she was like, “Oh well, you should probably leave them in the truck. Her sons leave them in the truck all the time.”
That didn’t make sense.
I was thinking, then you’d do what I just did, walk on dirt and bring the dirt in the house. Why take off your shoes then?
Her feet were filthy.
I had on socks.
I brushed them off.
I didn’t mention my thought, though.
I said, “You making applesauce for the baby?”
And she said, “Yeah. You should try the applesauce.”
And then she poured the applesauce in a bowl to try it.
I tried it too.
It was really good.
Cinnamon, sugary.
I told her, “You can crush up some crackers and you can make apple crisp.”
And then the point of view changed, and John John wasn’t a baby no more.
He was full of tattoos, skinny, bald, still handsome.
Gorgeous enough that memes will start.
He wasn’t just a big fat baby.
He was sitting at a podium in a courthouse, yellow suit, handcuffs, looking at his dad, and then looking at his grandma, his Memaw.
Like he couldn’t decide who was his real parent.
He was on trial for something.
I felt bad for the whole family because they seemed so wholesome.
But I realized the poverty, something was gonna catch up to these children.
And the parents were working so hard and trying, but the children, not John John.
His parents were dabbling in something bad.
The grandparents were trying to do the best they can.
When I finally went outside the trailer, because the point of view shifted back, there were police cars everywhere, flying through the neighborhood.
I was able to get in my car.
It was a nice car.
I Drove off.
Whoever was following me couldn’t find me anymore.
The neighborhood.
It was old, dusty.
Tumbleweeds everywhere.
Even the businesses were like trailers.
Nothing was two stories.
There were people walking everywhere.
A bunch of businesses and homes, chain-link fences.
Then I finally made it to the highway.
Then I woke up.
