When George died, my grandmother said she saw a dog in her room. She rambled on and on about the dog in her room for days. It’s a strange coincidence that she brought that all up after George died. There was no way she would have heard about his death from us. She was hard of hearing, she had dementia, and nobody ever told her.

Something similar happened when my uncle Tony died a few years back. The day after he died she had a lucid moment and she accused us of hiding Uncle Tony’s death from her. She said she knew he was dead because she saw him. Besides all that, she talks to her dead brother all the time. He haunts her like his death haunts her memories.

I guess there’s a thin veil between reality and dreams, especially lately. A couple of nights ago I dreamt I was standing in a line on a conveyor belt. I was waiting to take an exam. There were TSA security guards checking people, so it felt like an airport, but at the same time it felt like I was at an amusement park. There were rides all around me and a couple of strangers who wanted to get famous tried to get the attention of the guards, who were selecting people to join a reality show. Van Halen also held a concert. It was weird that Van Halen was in my dream since I don’t really connect with Van Halen or listen to much of his music. Today, I caught wind on my fb feed that he had passed away due to cancer. Did he dream he was holding a concert, and somehow did that dream seep into mine?

I started a coven with some friends a few weeks back too, just for fun and also as something to distract and comfort me through my grief. Ambulo Coven use to be a meditation hiking group. In Latin, Ambulo means to walk or to wander in the mind. I went to a psychic fair this last weekend, and the medium, there, looked straight at me and talked about the energies she felt. I believed she believed in her gifts, and her story was really compelling. However, we ended up not staying for the entire fair because there were Trump supporters there, and the air was dense. Afterwards, we went to a crystal shop in Old Town and I bought some really cool crystals and stones for a good price. Then we went back to my place and filled a spelljar with good intentions.

Elements of that day found its way into my dreams that night. I dreamt I was alone in a dark classroom with a professor lecturing on spells. On my desk were four piles. One column and three rows. I was working on a spell for a friend who went missing. In each pile there was a crystal wand, much like one I saw at the shop, a cup, a pen, and sand. As I was pouring white sand into the last pile, a young gentleman entered the classroom and sat behind me. He asked the professor for an apology card where he wrote down his apology for being tardy. All of a sudden, there was clapping.

I wrote down other dreams from other nights too. In one, I met two musicians in a gas station. One man was homeless and dying. He needed to go to the hospital. The woman who accompanied him was looking for an online class. She was a surprisingly good singer. Both of them suffered from drug addictions, and people refused to help them, but I stopped to give them a ride. The woman suffered from dementia, and the man was dying. The man was Van Halen. I wrote this dream down on September 29th. I had no idea Van Halen was dying then, and only now did I find out he had cancer.

In another dream, I was in National City, but I was also by the beach in an amusement park. My mom was unhappy and was looking for a new spine. Organ thieves tricked her and took her and my sisters away. When they disappeared, the sky changed and the planets danced. I walked into the future and told people what happened, but nobody believed me.

In one last dream I wrote down, I had to help hide an old crush who whose mother was just released from jail from maybe murder. My sister’s girlfriend was driving, and I feel like there was some kind of love triangle going on there. She dropped us off to my parent’s house where my mother and my grandmother were at the front yard. He wanted me to open his head and edit his memories because he felt like his life was too long and there were elements in it taking too much resources. He was sad, and I was trying to fix that.

Usually, I try to interpret these dreams, but lately I have been just scribbling them down and leaving them be.