Remembered Fragments Of Last Night's Chaotic Nightmares

Trigger Warnings/Adult Content  
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My Metro-Sexual Cousin, R. is trying to seduce me. He says, "You knows what I am." He presses his body up against my own, holding me as if we're dancing, and I could be getting turned on. I'm very confused, yet feel breathless? I'm not sure that I want to be here. In the dream I get a close up of his face and he looks younger, like he's in his early thirties, instead of older than myself.                  
                  
Then I'm a child, then not, and I'm in a massage parlor, a brothel, except it's in one of those open angle storefronts on Magazine Street in the Lower Garden District, downtown-riverside corner of the block. Late afternoon, early evening. Dawne is working there, like a storefront manager she is IRL, and there are a couple of other, younger women in their 20s, as well as a twink kid who works there too. I'm pretending I belong there for a moment, although I knows I'm out of place, because my life is so easy, and I am not a child of hardships. A tough, short, muscular set man come out of the back, angry and full of intent, and I know his anger is a result of my pretentiousness in being there. He grabs me and I know that he will pull me into the back and then rape me. I pull myself out of that front door, he, grabbing, holding on to my right hand/wrist with both of his hands, trying to pull me back in. Plaintively, I cry out,  "Let me go, I'm trying to leave!"                  
                 
Then cut to, I'm with Tomás, it is night, there is some kind of industrial engine going and somehow we are riding it. A waterfront somewhere, like a danish crime flick, something about selling a small amount of pot, something about taking insurance policies out on ourselves. The cops are onto us over it, which is Bad. This dream goes on and on, my father is in there somewhere, an unknown woman associate of his as well, and possibly a man, maybe her partner in something, onlooking, all three unseen in the dream. It is "a situation." The worst part is, I am sure that as a result of this cop action against myself and Tomás, Billy (IRL a hairdresser) and his crew will also go down, and it will be my fault. I think about going to jail, I will have to stop taking my estrogen and t-blocker, hopefully nobody inside will notice that I have small breasts. But toward that end, I think up a glimmer of hope, the cop can't prove a single thing, because No One Will Talk, and so, maybe the situation will be ok.