6th August 23 - Tapestry

I'm travelling via bus through a city I've dreamed of before, with narrow roads and a seafront that this bus travels down. I know the driver, he's someone I know online that DJ's an independent radio station - D. I ask D, who at this point is an unrecognisable blonde woman, why when we travel though the narrowest part of the city does the bus always play Plush by the Stone Temple Pilots? She laughs, and responds 'because it's good!'

Night arrives and I flit around several rooms in several buildings on the seafront. Time blurs and it becomes night, most likely due to a fair amount of alcohol consumed; I'm at one or several interconnected parties. I have my instax camera, and I've been taking disposable pictures but there's something wrong. The details have become hazy, but something bad has happened, and I may have taken pictures that contain more information, maybe even evidence of crime. I run back into the city, where it seems to be soaked in perpetual daylight. I struggle to remember what happened, and after feeling into the city and seemingly losing any potential tail, I decide to make my way back to the party aftermath.

The main building is at the end of a road running next to the beach, parallel to the shoreline, a two storey apartment building with a very old but studenty vibe. It's dark inside, blues mix with red lighting to provide an aesthetic that feels comforting to me. As I make my way upstairs, a police officer spots me and requests my assistance (IRL she is someone who runs a plant nursery nearby). She has spotted my instax camera and has intuited that I may have pictures of whatever crimes may have been committed. At this point I realise that I have a collection of photos from the party, quite a few of them are nudes of partygoers, and I would rather the cops not get a hold of anything. 

I do my best to rebuff her attempts at gathering evidence, and I flit from room to room picking up pictures I've taken whilst the police officer attempts to follow whilst surveying the various scenes. Eventually she corners me in a room and asks to see the film roll of my camera rather than the photos. I realise this is bad, and that any pictures I've taken will be visible, but I have no choice but to hand it over. Inside the film canister is a piece of cloth, which we slowly unfurl into a huge tapestry roughly 2m x 15m in size. Printed along the tapestry are the pictures that this roll of film allowed for, taking up roughly 2m x 1m each. They are gorgeous, artistic, colourful images of varying styles. Some are straight photographs, and some seem like photoshopped pieces of artwork.

We do our best to fold the tapestry back up, but it is understandably huge and won't fit back into the tiny canister. There were no incriminating images, so she requests to see my other 'spent' canisters. I find one, and instead of a tapestry to be unfurled I find a traditional roll of tiny film, which has created a grid of all the pictures I have ever taken with my camera. We both look through and find just pleasant normal pictures everywhere, nothing bad or incriminating, and the police officer even compliments me on my photography skills. 

I leave and head back into the city proper and find that it is snowing, I believe it is late December in what I now understand to be Liverpool. There seems to be a parade marching through the dark snowy streets, people having a good fun time. I decide to see the march for myself, and hop into a small flat platform thing with wheels and a steering column, not unlike a scooter with a square base. It zips me around quite fast and surprisingly safely considering the slushy and icy nature of the streets. I ride past countless shouting jovial people, and even spot some old friends (P & H) towards the front of it. I eventually reach the front where people seem to be getting a little angrier, and continue onwards to the square they seem to be approaching. I see some people advertising various shops and bars nearby, one sign advertising vegan brandy at a nearby Bratislavan bar catches my eye.

I decide to double back along a different street to catch the middle of the march, only when I get back to the main road nobody is to be seen. I continue back to the main square and find the whole city seemingly deserted. Have they all gone inside the various shops and bars nearby? I enter a small cosy arcade around the corner and find a single person that I know - she's not quite human? I get the impression that she's from an ancient time, some kind of Neanderthalic person that has found herself in modern society, and that I have been tasked with taking care of her. She's standing outside of the Bratislavan bar, which is also empty aside from a cowering barkeep.

The barkeep has a chunk of hair missing from the side of her head, and I realise that the ancient woman must have gotten confused and attacked her. I apologise and explain why this was wrong to the neandertal, and order her a diet coke. As I do more people seem to finally start filling into the arcade and to the bar. One group of posh people walk up and start talking to us, and indicate outside where there is a giant game being played in the square. Various country borders are visible in the snow, and the objective is to take nations one by one. The ancient woman immediately claims a huge amount of territory, surprising the posh knobheads.

I woke up.