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maybe its a sign...

I often have dreams about really specific events happening either to me, or to my friends/family, before they actually happen. A few weeks ago, I dreamt that I was driving with my friends, and one had suggested we go to a new place. The GPS rerouted and we took some weird back roads to get there. Halfway through the drive, I noticed some flags (the bad ones) on people's porches and I started to get this weird feeling, but I kept driving. A little bit later, my tire had popped, so I pulled into a sketchy looking gas station and asked the clerk if they were able to help fix my tire. He gave me a funny look, but decided to help with the tire. I caught a glimpse of the truck sitting outside the shop "Tony's Auto and Body," wiritten in black, on the sides of a run-down grey pick up, just in case. While this guy was fixing the tire, he made weird comments the whole time about how I'm such a pretty lady (I'm a trans guy, but I look pretty fem), and he asked how old I was, a whole bunch of creepy stuff. I politely rejected him, and we got out of there pretty quick, and my friends ultimately decided to go back to my place for the rest of the night. A little bit into the drive back, I notice a truck tailgating me, so I ask my friends to look and see what the truck looks like. They described it to me as the exact truck that I spotted earlier at the gas station: A run-down grey pick up truck with writing on the sides. I asked if they could see any writing on the sides, and they could see "Auto and Body," written in black. At this point, my heart dropped to my ass, so I kept driving for a while to see if the truck was going to keep following. It did. And because my friends had made it obvious that we saw the truck, he wouldn't let up, and kept following (idk why nobody thought to call the cops... dream logic, I guess). We called a friend, and explained that we were being followed, and to see if we could go to their place (terrible idea), and the friend obviously told us no, and to drive to a populated area to lose the guy, so that's exactly what we did. Eventually we were in some random neighborhood 30 minutes out from my house, and we pulled into a shopping center, and we finally lost the guy, and the dream cut out. The next day, I get a call from my friend, frantically asking if she can come to my place for the night. I asked her what was going on, and she explained the dream I just had, down to a tee: She had been out driving with her friends to some place, but they had got rerouted, and ended up on the back roads. She told me about how her tire popped, and she had gone to some sketchy gas station/auto shop to get it fixed, and how the guy was being a weirdo by asking how old she was, and saying that she looked really pretty. She told me that she was being followed by (presumably) the same guy in the shop's truck: A run-down grey pick-up with black writing on the sides, that she couldn't make out. I sternly told her that shouldn't come to my house if she's being followed, or any of their houses either. I suggested driving to a mall or a populated area, and asked to stay on the phone with her until she got there. Some time goes by, and they make it to a shopping center, and she tells me that she thinks she lost the guy, and that they were going inside to process what just happened, and then to the police station to make a report of what happened. After she hung up, I sat feeling super uneasy. Knowing that I had dreamt this exact situation, but someone else was living it. To this day, I never told my friend about the dream I had, and I don't think I ever will.

@4everinbliss

4d ago

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show at the mayan palace/theatre + weird dinner table events

had this dream a few days ago and i can't stop thinking about it. i was at this very hippie, psychedelic inspired festival but my mom and some other family member were with me also. we are about to leave when i see this huge building overgrown with moss and vines. it looks like a mayan building, not the usual pyramidal temple like thing but more like the inside of a palace that had the height of about 3 two-storey houses. i walk closer and closer and see the arc of an entrance that i just know is off limits to the public, perhaps because it leads to their sacred city. a shaman appears from the entrance, makes his way to the open space where lots of peolpe are gathered now as if we were in a theatre. now the lights are all on the 'stage' shining on him as he starts dancing and doing tricks. he has a bunch of different knives, necklaces and artifacts i can't identify and the show feels magical. however, suddenly a man sneaks up to where the shaman has intricately placed his 'props' and takes them one by one. i am watching in utter disbelief about how disrespectful this is but somehow i have this insight that the robber man has been drugged with something that is making him act completely out of character. the shaman of course notices what he's doing and asks him to leave and give his things back multiple times in the calmest voice. this is until about the 4th time when the guy is finally escorted out of the place by some club bouncers. because of the time trying to get him off the stage took up, the shaman's show had to end early to get back on schedule for whoever is performing next. i notice i am now sitting at a table, farther from the stage with some of my family, with my mom's best friend on my left side and her husband on my right. the next show starts and it's a hungarian band singing one of the most popular songs in hungary (unfortunately i can not remember which one they played) but it was interrupted by the drugged man who now appears to be on a stretcher, tied down, he's foaming at the mouth, lips swollen to thrice their original size and his eyes look like he had been crying for hours or as if he was having a serious allergic reaction. i redirect my attention to the menu/table we're sitting at and my legs feel really cold so i ask dora (mom's friend) if she can give me some of the blanket her and the other people are covering their legs with. the blanket is not long enough so she covers only my left leg and her husband my right with the blanket the other side of the table had too lol dora then starts apologising for not bringing me any presents, even though she knew i would be here. i ask my mom if there are any news about my childhood best friend (the neighbour that my parents still live beside) and one of my old classmates from primary school because i dreamt of them 2 days before i was in this dream (i remembered the dream i had while dreaming???!!!). but she says no nothing new except old classmate now has an online brownie store (website is xyzbrownie.data) and sells little cereal shape brownies of all kinds of flavours. the waiter comes and it's my best friend from hungary and she asks me if we're ready to order but my mom's ex-friend cuts me off and asks for a cappuccino. abruptly i awaken

@loopsie

Jul 17, 2024

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WOKE UP FROM A NIGHTMARE AT 4AM

i had to kill my cats and i was being chased by the mimic fnaf. I don’t know why, I didn’t want to kill my cats, but I felt like I was forced?? By whom I’m unsure. I also weighed their bodies afterwards euuh. I dunno when or how the mimic came in, I think it was just in my house. Anyways all that to say I’m so tired and everything hurts

@randomaccessmemory

4d ago

Top Recs from @taterhole

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Never changing

My dad teases me about how when I was a little kid, my favorite thing to do when I was on the landline phone with somebody—be it a relative or one of my best friends—was to breathlessly describe the things that were in my bedroom so that they could have a mental picture of everything I loved and chose to surround myself with, and where I sat at that moment in time. Perfectly Imperfect reminds me of that so thanks for always listening and for sharing with me too 💌

@taterhole

Feb 23, 2025

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SURFING THE TIDES OF THE EVERYONE TAB

I am a woman of the people

@taterhole

May 28, 2025

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Rejecting the Commodification of the Self

I’ve been thinking about how much of social media is centered around curating our self-image. When selfies first became popular, they were dismissed as vain and vapid—a critique often rooted in misogyny—but now, the way we craft our online selves feels more like creating monuments. We try to signal our individuality, hoping to be seen and understood, but ironically, I think this widens the gap between how others perceive us and who we really are. Instead of fostering connection, it can invite projection and misinterpretation—preconceived notions, prefab labels, and stereotypes. Worse, individuality has become branded and commodified, reducing our identities to products for others to consume. On most platforms, validation often comes from how well you can curate and present your image—selfies, aesthetic branding, and lifestyle content tend to dominate. High engagement is tied to visibility, not necessarily depth or substance. But I think spaces like PI.FYI show that there’s another way: where connection is built on shared ideas, tastes, and interests rather than surface-level content. It’s refreshing to be part of a community that values thoughts over optics. By sharing so few images of myself, I’ve found that it gives others room to focus on my ideas and voice. When I do share an image, it feels intentional—something that contributes to the story I want to tell rather than defining it. Sharing less allows me to express who I am beyond appearance. For women, especially, sharing less can be a radical act in a world where the default is to objectify ourselves. It resists the pressure to center appearance, focusing instead on what truly matters: our thoughts, voices, and authenticity. I’ve posted a handful of pictures of myself in 2,500 posts because I care more about showing who I am than how I look. In trying to be seen, are we making it harder for others to truly know us? It’s a question worth considering.

@taterhole

Dec 27, 2024