Dream Journal

I’m in a dimly lit house with some friends. We walk into another room and find a tall, dark-featured man in there with a dark brown aura. I know that it’s someone autistic or mentally disabled who lives most of his life in the dream world. He turns his attention to me and starts speaking to me as if he can read things about me, like an oracle. He says, “You need to get a handle on yourself”, or something like that. He says “You spend too much time with the spice.” I say “I’ve been dreaming about the spice!” (I don’t remember those dreams, though.) He says “You need more serotonin.” I ask, “What is the spice?” He pauses, then says “vanillin”.