Dreamt a group of us were seeing Stone Temple Pilots play in an intimate setting.
I had a scrapbook I made of them and even had stickers of them on my 2025 iPhone, which was an odd tidbit but still.
One of the people in our group was a new coworker who decided to have his arm around the back of my neck as he kept talking during their performance. I shrugged it off quickly even though he helped me when I had knee issues leading up to the concert. (I had issues with my knee over the weekend.)
Scott was youngish and in his prime while his band mates had aged. One of them ended up sitting by me at the end of the concert and complimented me on my phone, while Scott took my hand when I told him I was so mesmerized by the performance that I didn’t take a single photo. He was going to lead me to the small stage to do some selfies I suppose, to which I clammed up mid-walk and told him I didn’t like myself in selfies. He respected that and led me back to my seat, letting go of my hand. He was so gentle with me.
The band headed back to the stage for an encore, and Scott grabbed the mic, waited until I made eye contact with him and said…
“(my name). Take pictures.”
They then started to play the SpongeBob SquarePants theme song so I wouldn’t get transported into Scott’s personal lyrics. Every sang along and I got pictures of it all, including the audience full of smiles while they sang their hearts out.
But then I sat down and within my fingers was a small news article clipping of Scott’s passing. The dread of that rushed over me as I looked up at him being so vibrant and full of life on stage, grabbing the hand of his band mates one at a time and pulling them in for a hug.
My last thought before I woke up was I have to save him.
One of the people in our group was a new coworker who decided to have his arm around the back of my neck as he kept talking during their performance. I shrugged it off quickly even though he helped me when I had knee issues leading up to the concert. (I had issues with my knee over the weekend.)
Scott was youngish and in his prime while his band mates had aged. One of them ended up sitting by me at the end of the concert and complimented me on my phone, while Scott took my hand when I told him I was so mesmerized by the performance that I didn’t take a single photo. He was going to lead me to the small stage to do some selfies I suppose, to which I clammed up mid-walk and told him I didn’t like myself in selfies. He respected that and led me back to my seat, letting go of my hand. He was so gentle with me.
The band headed back to the stage for an encore, and Scott grabbed the mic, waited until I made eye contact with him and said…
“(my name). Take pictures.”
They then started to play the SpongeBob SquarePants theme song so I wouldn’t get transported into Scott’s personal lyrics. Every sang along and I got pictures of it all, including the audience full of smiles while they sang their hearts out.
But then I sat down and within my fingers was a small news article clipping of Scott’s passing. The dread of that rushed over me as I looked up at him being so vibrant and full of life on stage, grabbing the hand of his band mates one at a time and pulling them in for a hug.
My last thought before I woke up was I have to save him.
46-50, F
