Crust Punk Dream

I’m looking for my dog on the “campus” of a “college” but every building should basically be condemned. The only people who use any of them are crust punks, anarchists, and really grumpy old people. They live in them too.

I go to a DIY art gallery/house show and one half of the house is solely comprised of functional but really gross toilets. There are no walls, really, just supports where walls used to be. People keep challenging me with disingenuous questions about my thoughts on very specific issues of social justice like: “Why do you support the declawing of baby seals!?” And I’m all “Where’s the art and/or bands and have you seen my dog?” And some lady comes by flinging some sort of liquid on people and saying something about holistic earth blessing, except it burns me and turns my flesh purple. Everyone looks at me and the lady says it’s arsenic water and that I’m a traitor. I pretend like I’m allergic and wig out so I can get the hell out of there and continue looking for my dog. Everybody calls me a liar.

I head to another house where I had left my pants, because I figure that’s where my dog will be. I’m trying to find a bathroom, but there aren’t any. I know my dog is here somewhere, but I keep running into ex-girlfriends who tell me what a bad person I am. I’m all “What the hell, I’m just trying to find my dog!?” I go back outside and there’s my dog, so I go give her a good scratch.

Then I woke up and went to the bathroom.

I think this dream is about how I am annoyed by my perception that I’m required to take a stand and act upon every injustice when I’ve got my own problems that I’m trying to take care of, along with a dis-ease that I’m the white moderate that Martin Luther King, Jr. talks about in Letter from a Birmingham Jail.