"it came to me like a song i wrote"

this morning i went to the doctor to see about my leg.
i came home and took a nap. in this nap i had a dream.

i was in front of some bodega at night. there were flowers in front of the bodega (as usual) and the streets were wide and empty. i looked onto the lot across the street; it had an building in various states of construction with a big courtyard in the middle.

i was on a charter bus with my parents and a lot of other people, including one average-looking white guy with blond hair. i got off the bus because it was about to leave and my father and i went to the underhold to put some suitcases and stuff inside. he was tossing all of my stuff in but it wouldn't fit because my lacrosse sticks were positioned poorly. for whatever reason i felt very frustrated but too depressed to complain about it. so i took over, forcefully repositioning my lacrosse sticks and then stacking the suitcases on top of each other.

i was in a vast and busy subway/train terminal underground. the platforms had red tiles all over them. it was the last station in the line so there were about four or five parallel trains lined up. my beautiful friend lexy got onto one full train which then promptly departed. i was left in the station with a bunch of other people, so we started walking around the end of the platform so that we could board another train. as i started walking, i was accosted by a young white male with wavy black hair who introduced himself to me as lexy's brother. i was very surprised at the information, since lexy had never mentioned him to me. i asked him "out of curiosity" what their father did for a living. in my mind i saw their father as a spry old white man with freudish/leniny grey hair and a goatee. i misheard the brother's response as "he manages blah blah." i asked him to repeat and he said "he runs nations." a liberating wave of relief and understanding washed over me - it was the answer to everything. i felt like i immediately understood everything - why alexis was born in jamaica, that this kid and i were destined to go into the nation-running business, that i had emerged from the darkness and depression that had followed me for quite some time. max (brother) and i passed by a table on our way to the train platform; three asian kids in white polos were sitting there passing out free samples/fliers/whatever for mcdonalds. i said "wait up" and turned to the table. the kid closest to me made me a soft serve cone and handed it to me. he then handed me a small rectangle of paper (some kind of temporary tattoo) and gave me a huge slap across the left cheek. i was a bit shocked and looked into my hand at the piece of paper, which more and more resembled a big cookie with some japanese kanji on it.