Lesson with Belew

Had a guitar lesson with Adrian Belew. Unfortunately I forgot my guitar, but told him I wanted him to tell me about his songwriting process cause I also write songs, and I complimented his lyrics and melodies (i.e. "One Time.") He seemed pleased. I remembered the Hamer guitar was in my trunk so I went out to get it at some point. By the time I got back, the teacher was someone else, but now I've forgotten who it was.

Strange Markings / Jeff Buckley & Elliott Smith

At some point, my mother has strange markings on both of her arms from an injury.

Towards the end of the dream, I'm actually hanging out in a basement with Jeff Buckley and Elliott Smith. (Do I listen to their music too much?) I'm extremely excited, and say it out loud, and we are all strapping on electric guitars to jam.

Moviehouse Fireball / Guitar Repair Desk / The Hit

Long, earliest part forgotten, though at some point later during the dream, I recounted the whole earlier part in my head.

In a theater with parents and sister, possibly others. Huge fireball, raging fire on other side of theater in small, windowed room adjacent. Immediately we get up to flee out other side exit. We escape, I'm checking my pockets to find that somehow I've lost my wallet and my phone. In car, I'm upset about this, but then later I check pockets again to find that they are back.

In some sort of bustling office building lobby, there's a triangular counter that people line up and clamor around. I have the Hamer guitar with me - was supposedly repaired there, but there is still a buzzing problem so I've brought it back. When I finally get up to an older lady working, I explain the problem, showing the paper I needed to wedge under the G string (I notice nothing under the high E - this all is from reality, gigs last weekend, but different guitar.) She agrees and I hand over the guitar, she says it will be ready...and I jump in "today?" but she's saying "tomorrow." I'm non-plussed, then she says they'll charge me again ($80?) and I'm outraged. Yelling aloud and such, "ridiculous." But doesn't help. A strange hippie type, blond haired security guard kid comes to stand near me. I picture the head of the company (SK?) and consider calling him, but don't have the number, consider calling KK to get it.

Eventually the room clears a bit, generally the story and place changes. There's a message for me that someone wants to see me downstairs. I begin to descend the large, high, open circular staircase cautiously - bad feeling about this. I see some characters from the past. I reach the bottom. Some people see me and signal to someone sitting out of view - bad feeling about this, feel like I'm getting marked. Eventually it's EH and RG that approach me, but I'm backing up the stairs to top. EH looks severely beaten, prison-style, but ironically remarks that I "look good". Possibly sarcastic, fore-shadowing. Top of stairs. EH seems to have RG under his control out of fear, tells RG to take it out and do it or he'll be killed. RG pulls out gun and immediately fires at me a few times, hitting me as I try to run. I must be hit at least 7-8 times. Definitely not going to survive this experience, I start thinking about forgiveness, maybe verbally forgiving RG for doing whatever he was forced to do, since there's no way out for me. Close up shot in the chest - death. I'm seeing it from an outside perspective, body is somewhat decomposed, but cleanly.
Credits roll. Watching the credits, I see option to start again when I'm ready, i.e. next life. I choose other option and wake up.

Swallowed Ring / Another Gig / Guitar Bodega

Hanging around with EA, eating something. Whatever it is, it seems to have a large metal ring (shower curtain size) at its core. I am apprehensive when I realized I have accidentally swallowed the ring, which is not meant to be eaten. This happens twice. I feel ok, but anxiety starts to set in; rings may be cutting off air supply.

Long sequence another night, much is forgotten. A gig taking place in a sort of school auditorium. Many performers; other known characters abound, I'm about to play, expectation and excitement is great. Technical problems. Paul tries to help. Opening with "Dink's Song." Cut short due to loss of power. Some people (David A.) helping with power supply cords. Growing impatient, myself and crowd. Crowd has taken stage at some point, but eventually clears out. I decide the performance is over. Twice verbally blasting someone, forget who and why, but I humbly apologize to him afterwards.

Cross between independent guitar store and city bodega; I sort of work there. Some younger people, kids, running around, family of owner possibly, taking stuff for free. This customer guy asks another employee (Chad but very distant from reality Chad) about Gibson guitars, and Not-Chad disparages them, which I take silent offense to. Recommends other manufacturer, customer picks out this small oddly shaped green guitar, likes it, plans to buy, has a gig soon, says he'll sit down while playing it due to weird shape, which I think is unnecessary. Compares nicely to Gibson, he says.

Another sequence with Doug, in his "office." Doug is in a little alcove playing the guitar. ES calls and I listen in on extension. She says some negative things about me and my work. Afterwards I protest to Doug. Doug mentions this idea that at some point he plans on starting his own record company, using the contacts and rejected offers from his current job. I strongly encourage it, pitch some ideas about web ordering and fulfillment. At some point people are comparing biceps. I say I'm not going in to work tomorrow due to earlier negative comments. Doug asks me "what this has to do with the city." Not sure what that means. Doug suggests sticking it out, I suggest some other routes I could take employment-wise.

At some point some unknown girl leaves and I decide to help her out. She is waiting outside now, the bodega/guitar store/apartment/office, to cross the street. I leave via a different entrance and approach the corner of the block. I use some unknown superhuman strength to twist the streetlight from the bottom until it shuts off. I cross the street and do the same to the DON'T WALK sign until it says WALK, or something. But by the time it takes, it may have already changed on its own. This was all done so the woman could cross street, but as I approach, station wagon (with her father? in it) turns corner and picks her up.