Dream Journal

I was in a strange dark world. It was like The Tower in its starkness and tallness and angularity. There were guards all over with visors and there were glowing green bean-shaped things that caused you to bounce really high if you jump on them. [there’s a scene like a video game of trying to jump up platforms using the beans]

I helped my friends up, then I proceeded down the narrow square passage on my hands and knees. There were several exits. Around a corner the light was different and brighter, like midday under a cloudy sky, and the carpet was green instead of brown. I was now excitedly galloping on all fours. I turned another left into this dilapidated room in the attic of a small house in a small town. I took it to be my college dorm room. (Did you notice the hyperspace tunnel? Wow!) A whole bunch of friends arrived bit by bit. All I remember of the conversation was how most were telling me how sucky my place was.

Then there was a bit about a brown pit bull that no one loved that needed a home. Somehow I associated it with my childhood dog Velvet. I went to play with it and it was so happy that I decided to take care of it. Continuity break. . . . I was now on the road in front of Blaine House with a horse. The dorm had become a home, and the dog had become a horse. So I got on the horse and tried to ride it down the street, but was having trouble controlling it. Soon I got the hang of it and we rode down to Radisson Road. Traffic was crazy. We bolted across and were nearly hit.

On the far side, things were different (a crossing). A couple wanted me to play a game with their son down the hill by the little stream. “We” went down there (myself and nobody), but found a large tripod blocking the way and so we walked on. Eventually “we” became Rebecca and I and the area north of Radisson became a huge park with rolling hills and trees and the smell of tar. People were tarring new paths all over, stinking up the place. The name of their company was “Flick.” Rebecca and I had two hoses, one spraying a strong solid stream and one merely dribbling (chakra/energy flow manifestation). We found the site of current tarring and sprayed our hoses at it.

This woman (who was part of the project but also spraying a hose) got mad and stormed over. Rebecca started telling her how they were ruining the environment. Rebecca started crying. The woman put on a fake smile and said even meaner stuff. The woman walked away and I, furious, followed her. In front of a cameraman, I said “You talk with smiles and pretend kindness but underneath you are saying FUCK YOU.” These last I said in a guttural tone. “You should work for the government, able to smile while saying horrible lies. . . . ” I went on and on and the woman fled, crying. I then awoke.

Also notice the extreme emotions typical of the astral.

References: In physical life, the area north of Radisson was more neighborhoods.