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09 July 2014

DREAM DIARY #4 - Soccer-Basketball, I Did Not Invite You Here...

Hello BITC readers... its been quite a long while. Needless to say anything more than here is my latest dream I would like to share with everyone. Salut!

I was on a floating version of my childhood driveway-slash-basketball court... there were a dozen or more, what seemed to be friends of mine, playing basketball... with no hands. Literally, they had no hands and were using their feet. I HAD hands, but also, when the ball was passed to me, used my feet. In a flash I was at a bar. To my right there was low talking by familiar voices. I quickly turned my head and it was a pal of mine directly by my side, who I just immediately knew was very important and everyone in the place knew it. He was being talked at by a, what seemed to me, "up & comer" - and was being polite about it. There was a man in between them, but I could not see his face. The one-way discussion becomes a conversation and escalates rapidly. I cannot remember what was said exactly, but the man furthest from me stands up and pulls out his gun, hoisting it in the air and firing a shot. The bar clears out, including my "important" friend... its just me and hot shot, and he spills a drink on the bar in front of where I was sitting. It drips onto my lap and I proclaim, "what did I ever do to you!?" And he replies, "I don't know..." and stares at me, waiting. I huff and puff as I walk around him and out of the building, which within a moment, turns into a frantic flee running down stairwells, thru hallways, and past groups of children in what seemed to be a school-like setting, then a church, then a museum, all in the same building, all with people running from the man with the gun or so I thought. Somewhere stuck in all of this, there is a moment, on a balcony of warehouse like buildings. I am there with a woman (girl) that I knew in high school. I have not seen her in person SINCE high school and we really don't know anything about each other, sans Facebook info. Her face lights up, "Its so good to see you John!" I chuckle and agree. "Your hair! Its... a little thin." As she runs her fingers thru my front hairline. "Oh, well, you know..." I mumble confusedly and a bit startled since no one has ever told me that. (In real life I totally bolted to the bathroom after waking up and performed a thorough inspection of what seemed to be my regular hairline, phew.) There are slight breezes that pass and lots of dust in the air, but we don't talk much. More like a moment frozen in time than anything else. She was beautiful, I must admit. Flash back to the museum-like building and the race from the crazy gunman is over, but who am I now? Am I the same man who ran throughout these halls and stairs? It kinda does not feel like it. Regardless, I find myself sitting at a small table with maybe the same woman from the balcony...? Everything is a bit off here and I realize I am choking on a food substance mixed with paper. I am pulling this weird mixture of stuff out of my mouth. She looks on and asks something to the effect of "what is wrong with you? what are you doing?" And now the finale... as I spit out the final pieces of whatever-that-was-in-my-mouth I bellow, "Who ARE you?! Did I ask you to come here? What are you doing asking me that shit?! I didn't invite you here!" Cut (dream)scene. END.