Hallucination date - October 2018
A friend and I were on holiday. We were driving a rental car and spotted a beautiful bay with clear azure water, lots of boats, and not many people as it was low season. We drove down a dusty track to get to it.
We rented a villa on the beach overlooking the bay. At the front of the villa there was a wall that you could climb onto, from which you could easily jump onto the front-facing balcony, and walk round to our one. Our room was on the first floor, and in it were two single beds, separated by two screens. One was Japanese, and very beautiful; and the other was bamboo, and pretty crap. The room had a keypad door lock with a 4 digit entry code, but you could also use a normal key to get in. There was a balcony that overlooked the bay, and beneath it was a restaurant and a bar, which we’d go to for breakfast. Every day a cat used to climb onto our balcony, and we would feed it special wet cat food in silver pouches. I had my records in my yellow DJ box and got residency at a club.
Over the next few days we became very friendly with an American. When I asked his name he said, “Marshall Mathers.” We were out every night partying with him, and didn’t sleep in the villa at all - the beds were untouched.
One day Marshall was kneeling on the pavement which ran from our villa to the town. Grey lockers lined the pavement, and opposite them was the beach. He had a box of Swan Vesta matches on him, and I asked him, “What are you doing?” He was trying to burn lots of A4 sheets of paper with lyrics on them that he got from one of the lockers - some handwritten and some typed out. Some were stored in a ringbinder with a picture of a monkey on it. I said, “Are you sure you want to do that?”. He replied, “Yes, I’m cleaning out my closet. I have to go home on the next EasyJet flight.” I said, “So does my friend, I’ll give you both a lift to the airport.”
As I got into the car and sat down, I woke up.
A friend and I were on holiday. We were driving a rental car and spotted a beautiful bay with clear azure water, lots of boats, and not many people as it was low season. We drove down a dusty track to get to it.
We rented a villa on the beach overlooking the bay. At the front of the villa there was a wall that you could climb onto, from which you could easily jump onto the front-facing balcony, and walk round to our one. Our room was on the first floor, and in it were two single beds, separated by two screens. One was Japanese, and very beautiful; and the other was bamboo, and pretty crap. The room had a keypad door lock with a 4 digit entry code, but you could also use a normal key to get in. There was a balcony that overlooked the bay, and beneath it was a restaurant and a bar, which we’d go to for breakfast. Every day a cat used to climb onto our balcony, and we would feed it special wet cat food in silver pouches. I had my records in my yellow DJ box and got residency at a club.
Over the next few days we became very friendly with an American. When I asked his name he said, “Marshall Mathers.” We were out every night partying with him, and didn’t sleep in the villa at all - the beds were untouched.
One day Marshall was kneeling on the pavement which ran from our villa to the town. Grey lockers lined the pavement, and opposite them was the beach. He had a box of Swan Vesta matches on him, and I asked him, “What are you doing?” He was trying to burn lots of A4 sheets of paper with lyrics on them that he got from one of the lockers - some handwritten and some typed out. Some were stored in a ringbinder with a picture of a monkey on it. I said, “Are you sure you want to do that?”. He replied, “Yes, I’m cleaning out my closet. I have to go home on the next EasyJet flight.” I said, “So does my friend, I’ll give you both a lift to the airport.”
As I got into the car and sat down, I woke up.
Biggie smalls?
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