Like many nights there were an assortment of vaguely remembered dreams. What was unusual was that two of them I remembered.
The first took place in a dimly lit restaurant overlooking a beach sunset. I was seated at the bar. I remember that Lee Marvin was the bartender. I ordered diet Dr. Pepper and when it arrived I could have sworn I saw a tab of $3.50. I gave him a $5 and said, “No change”. He then handed me a bill for around $30.00. For one soft drink! I quietly paid up.
It left we with a feeling of hopelessness. It wasn’t the price but that I paid it so meekly.
A second dream had me involved in some way with a column of desperate people. Think Trail of Tears or Bataan Death March. I felt responsible for them. I had no resources. I didn’t know where I was. Suddenly strange things started happening that began to take care of the people. Windows would open up and sandwiches would be handed out. Someone showed up and asked if there were any farmers in the group and they went away to a vacant farm. What was recurring was it seemed like every time I tried to take leadership a voice would say, “I got this.”
It left me with a feeling of hope. And the hope dissolved the frustration of the first dream.
homo unius libri
Thursday, July 13, 2023
Opus 2023-194: Weird Night
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