Purple Patches, How Do I Get His Job?, Fire, and The Next Generation

Purple Patches

I remember some movement where people wore these purple patches and badges to show they were part of it. The patch was lavender and had a phrase on it in bold, white sans serif font with the first and most prominent word being “No” or “Not.” I told them that it’s bad marketing and if they wanted their movement (which I didn’t agree totally with) to succeed, they would need to choose a symbol and use it instead of a lengthy phrase that people can only read if they know English and are close enough to read it.

How Do I Get His Job?

There was a scene where I was working for some government job with two others. Our manager was in the room just passing the time. He reminded me of a manager from when I worked at the Census, where he was once in our position and mostly became manager because of the length of time in the position. He was mostly there to make sure we did our work and helped answer our questions. We were adults with a good work ethic, so his job was easy and he was friendly. I remember wondering if I could ever have a job like his.

Part of the scene incorporated the noisy rooster from waking life crowing its head off outside of the place we were working.

Fire

I remember looking out of a front window of a house and seeing Kevin, Stephen, and another guy their age (about 5 years younger than me) that I assumed was a friend of Stephen’s from the military. They weren’t wearing uniforms, but their stances looked military and I already knew Stephen recently joined.

They were standing around a pile of large debris from what looked like a construction site for a house. I remember a door without a doorknob lying on the pile. Kevin was sitting in a lawn chair. The other two sat in lawn chairs on either side of him. Kevin lit a match and threw it onto the door. It caught fire quickly, but I felt it was safe because it was away from where I was and the surrounding trees. Stephen and his friend got up when the fire got bigger. Kevin stayed in the seat as if he knew it couldn’t hurt him.

I noticed what looked like gasoline “leaking” in a drip-like pattern, but it was like it was “falling” onto the underside of the awning over the small porch outside of the house. It “rolled” like a drop on a surface – part of it absorbed into the wood – until it hit the siding. Then, it ignited.

I moved away from the fire and was frustrated because I’d have to go outside in night clothes. There was another person in the house, so I thought I’d get them out first. I decided to call 9-1-1 on the way getting the other person, but couldn’t dial the number. After trying so hard, I realized I must be dreaming – dialing numbers into devices are one of the hardest things for me to do in a dream.

All this did was send me into a false awakening loop that played the same scene, but in different ways. I didn’t have any fear, it was more a frustration that they couldn’t burn crap without this gasoline thing happening.

The Next Generation

I remember walking along a beach area at a fair or carnival with a friend. He was an older male, but this was the future, so I might have been the same age. We were there with his teenage daughter who wanted to buy material to make clothing. There were vendors and they were selling handmade and recycled items. It seemed to be a trend. The guy said he thought everything looked “ragged” and nothing looked new like it was when we were young. I said it’s a good thing the younger generation was learning how to have recycled things and to scavenge because their generation will have to face wars over resources, devastation from climate change, having too much trash, etc.

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