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A Marching Band Trip (But in Space and with a Pitbull Attack)

Things started off kind of crazy this year in terms of dreams. It’s unfortunate my PTSD involving school life hasn’t been cured at all because I keep having school related dreams. In any case, this one was pretty crazy to put it bluntly.

I was at this airport looking place but the thing is, I wasn’t on solid ground per say. You look out the viewing ports and you can see the stars and shit. Yeah I’m in space somehow and yet for whatever reason, gravity seems to be about the same on here compared to Earth. Must be some space port thing. I have my Saxophone case with me and I’m wearing some relaxing athletic wear (basketball shorts, and one of those lightweight athletic shirts.. At least it’s more relaxing than what I used to wear in my school day. Cotton shirts and cargo shorts were a real pain on hot summer days. Though I’m not here to talk about summer camp or any of that shit. I’m in a fucking space station waiting in line for what I can presume to be our transport to what I can assume will be one of the game we usually perform in. Where that is I don’t even know. Some other planet perhaps. Everything in this station by the way is all brutalist and commie. Figured the future was going to end up looking like this. All of the new sci fi movies are going with this shitty aesthetic. Perhaps it’s all predictive programming. That’s a conspiracy topic I should get into because it’s really interesting.

Though it’s no conspiracy that our transport ship is lower than economic class in terms of perks. The exterior is just this big boxy long thing and the interior looks like a storage warehouse. You have a center area for sitting around with some simple tables to eat off from and there’s a second level with catwalks and little benches where you could in theory lie down and take a nap. It seems like this general area is where our school band is going to be staying in as there will be other passengers/groups traveling with us. There’s not even lockers to put our shit away. We have to lay our instrument cases around and hope they don’t slide around. Not that they do anyways considering that we are in space and you don’t feel the momentum or whatever the scientific term is when the spaceship takes off from the port. We aren’t exactly floating around either as it seems the same gravitational tech from that space station is also present in this sorry excuse of a space ship.

Speaking of a sorry excuse, I’m doing exactly what I would of done with any school band trip, I’m all by myself not socializing with anyone. Typical but not surprising. I never had a liking for any of my school bandmates. Everyone here seems to be mostly the same as the ones I recognized from my real high school years. I don’t see my crush though. She’s probably called in sick or something. Doesn’t matter. I just want to relax during this trip. I take out this tablet like device about as uninspiring and unmarvelously as tablets in reality and start lurking some websites. I don’t recall what kind of sites I end up checking out but it’s mostly text stuff. Now that I think about it, I was probably using some kind of e-reader. They still use this shit in the future? Either way, the trip is mostly uneventful or so I thought.

Some alarm starts going off and then suddenly, one of the door hatch opens and a herd of pitbulls come running out and start attacking everyone in this part of the ship. Everyone is all panicking and screaming (no duh) and some people try to get up to the upper deck. Too bad some of them made it up here too. One of them even bites me in the leg and I try to shake it off me only to be thrown off from the catwalk and fall down into the lobby area. Luckily I feel onto one of the cushion chair things because then my dream would’ve probably ended right there and then. Why would anyone keep Pitbulls on a space ship? It’s bad enough I really don’t like dogs. Pitbulls is just icing on the shit cake. Some security personal do come in and eventually taze/paralyze some of the dogs with some lance like equipment and herd the rest back to their designated section of the space ship. We only suffered minor casualties. No one died but some people were too wounded to preform at the stadium which was just a couple of minutes away.

So eventually, our transport ship thing docks at this skyscraper thing on this planet that may as well be Earth. It certainly doesn’t look or feel like another planet. Anyone who didn’t get completely rekt’d by the pitbull attack got off the ship and took this elevator large enough to hold all us as we descend down into the ground level where we would be close to the stadium field. It is here where we do our tuning routine, uniform check and equipment, and basically getting ready to preform. We walk through this walkway underneath what we can assume to be the bleachers and sure enough we are preforming at some school football game. If it weren’t for the fact everything was big, gray, and intimidating, you’d mistake this as some sort of typical modern high school football game. I am not to versed on football terminology as I never really cared to watch the games back then but I certainly knew about half-time. That’s usually when we preformed our show which was sometimes never really finished until competition season. Sure enough, it was gonna be half time and we’ll be preforming real soon.

I won’t go into too many details because then I’ll be here talking about sets, coordinates, and all that technical detail for something as complex as a marching band performance but I’ll give you a quick rundown as to what happened. We were preforming our Gypsy themed show (the same show that I preformed in the real world during my last year in marching band). At the very least we preformed the first part of that three part show. The first part of that show was an arrangement based off Franz Liszt Hungarian Rhapsody. To be honest, I always preferred the music of the show I did when I was a Freshman but this one was okay I guess. And just like in the real world, nobody in the audience really cared for our show to show any enthusiasm. They just wanna see some footballers slam into each other and watch the cheerleaders. I don’t blame them. Right when our show finished, was also the perfect timing as I was waking up from my dream. Feels good to be back on Earth. I hate space and especially space travel. But you know what I hate as well, marching band. Oh and pitbulls. You know what, I’d honestly hate this dream but It’s not really a nightmare so it has that going for it. Why space though? What’s wrong with my mind?

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