Sausage Death

Date: 1/18/2017

I was watching a motorbike race, like the Isle of Man TT; it was night. A man was racing without a helmet, riding at 200 mph. He took a jump, and banged his head on the petrol tank when he landed. I was shown a photo of what happened to his body - it had stretched out like a massive floppy sausage, several meters long. A female rider (a friend of Diana's) had also been slightly injured. She was a kickboxer. My mum and I went to her house; my mum made her lower her shoulders, to reduce the impact trauma (which had also been making her behave irritably). She was married to William Crouch, someone who'd been at shool with me when I was 10. My mum was pleased to see him. Someone told me that the long-sausage photo had been faked, and that the man was alright. I was due at Hampstead Heath. There was some kind of pageant or show. All of my girlfriend's friends were coming to see me perform. I was dreading it - I was thinking about what a loser I was, how my girlfriend always goes out with losers and they knew it. I was badly dressed. Other friends of mine were there - Beatrice Loftschultz appeared with some family members, walking up a steep flight of stairs. I was relieved to see her - we agreed to fly around for a while, and flew down a few steps together. Then I realised I'd lost my phone. Beatrice quickly flew back in time to the Chinese restaurant I'd left it in; I joined her - I used time travel to communicate with the owner. My smart blue coat was also still there. Music rehearsal at school. I was playing the drums, though I'd partly forgotten how to play. There was a wind wand, playing a jazzy number. The teacher was the bald man from Whiplash. He was stopping the orchestra to chastise me. I couldn't find the music past the first two pages. There was a pile of sheets, but not for the piece we were playing. I tried to search subtly while keeping the beat. The teacher approached - I explained there was no music. He didn't get angry. He was surprised and we looked for it together.