Dubose house dream

Date: 10/8/2016

By lilylorraine

Dreamt I got home from a trip and db and I lived in an old house that reminded me of Dubose, but it was even cooler. The main part of the house was grand and southern like Dubose, but art school miscreants had built on side wings with half-height hallways and slanted wooden floors, platforms to stage shows and weird spaces perfect for laying and painting or being on drugs. I came home from the trip and I was exhausted. Db was setting up for a party with one of our numerous other roommates, all believably real but not real people. There were flowers and stage props moving past and blocking doorways already blocked by a normal askew washing machine that was never installed correctly. I gathered that there was a wedding to be had. Someone from Orange Twin, our neighbor, was graciously letting us use "the village" for the ceremony which I knew to be a muraled spiritual space/luxury villa. It was all very Athens, GA. I got past the askew washing machine to the front porch of our house to see db through wispy white curtains making the aerobed for dad and how's visit. I was grateful to him for helping me out and expressed stress for being so tired and there being a wedding at our house the afternoon i get home from a trip that I didn't know about. The party begins. I'm in my towel, but haven't showered yet. Melanie W or Mayra is wearing an incredible felt rabbit/fennec fox felted headdress and maroon velvet dress. She's leading guests to the ceremony. I get caught up in the flow of people while holding her arm. I tell her something about "no one treats me that way". I mean something vaguely sexual, and then relent with her a little. I walk opposite the guests back towards the wooden fun-house art school addition to the house to find my bedroom or possibly look around. I feel somewhat lost. There are college kids hiding a stash of some kind of drugs for the party in an empty defunct washing machine, while their friend who is talking is pouring out a full can of paint (burnt orange? Blue? Lavender?) onto the floor. I spy on this to expose it later. I walk through the crowded doorway with the askew washing machine back towards my room, realizing at this point I am still in my towel. I say "well I should put clothes on since I am finally home from work now." I walk into a room where Daniel is laying on a futon couch with a lavender chenille blanket pulled up over his head. His phone is on his lap under the blanket, ringing off the hook. It's loud and I can see the screen illuminated. I realize he won't answer it because he's unreachable; he's dead. My subconscious gets scared that db is hurt, dying or might die in real life while on bachelor party in Cancun for James Gannon. I ask myself if I need to wake up from my nap to check my phone...is it almost time to get up anyway? I decide to go back to sleep until my alarm goes off because my nap can only be 30 mins longer at the latest.