maboroshi

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was on a dark stage with a group of guys. The guys were something like rock stars or performers. I'm not sure whether the stage was in a large or a small venue. Sometimes the atmosphere seemed very small, almost like a coffee shop or a bar. Other times, it seemed like the five guys were addressing a huge crowd, almost like at a political convention.

The stage itself seemed sometimes to be more like a small coffee shop or bar, or even a living room. I could see rugs, tables, and lamps. I might even once have seen a small hallway leading back to another room.

The five guys were going away. This might have been their last performance ever. So, partly for the crowd's sake, but partly for my own sake, the five guys gave some kind of inspirational speech. They each took a turn speaking. As the person would speak, a spotlight would shine on him.

The five speeches were somehow connected. They began in some kind of historical context. They had to do with something like fighting for liberty. Then they moved on to how people shouldn't lose hope, and what kinds of things they could do to keep fighting for liberty.

All the time, while each person was talking, I was touching the speaking person's face. I could see each person just fine. But the way I was touching the people's faces was like I couldn't see the people's faces, and like I was trying to understand what they were like.

The final person, while I was touching his face, began to laugh a little. I got the impression that he thought I was doing this because I wasn't taking his speech seriously. So I tried to touch his face more seriously. I began tapping his forehead and his chin with a fist like a cat-paw, not closed all the way, but kind of flat.

I may have been a little kid at this point, or maybe all through the dream.

Dream #2

I was at a service counter at a FedEx. A pretty woman with olive skin, black hair, and black eyes told me something about whatever I was here to do. She said something like things would be ready for me in a while, so I should come back.

I thanked the woman and walked away from the counter. I was now in a department store. I was walking around some display areas with really nice dark grey or black slacks. The area all around was also nice, kind of dimly lit, with dark green or blue carpeting. All the display stands also seemed to be made of a nice kind of wood.

A few other guys came up around me. There were some tall, white guys and at least one Asian guy. They were all dressed nice, probably in dark blue blazers, pale blue shirts, and khaki slacks. They were all talking with each other, possibly about some kind of business meeting they'd all been to. But they were all hanging around and looking at the pants near me, I could tell, because they assumed, for some reason, that I had good taste in pants (???).

I was back in some line, which, as I faced it, looked like a checkout line for this department or clothing store. The cashier counters looked very nice, all made out of heavy wood. They almost looked like bank counters. I was near the front of the line.

One of the Asian guys was in front of me, talking to some of the other business guys, who were behind me. This guy wasn't as well dressed as the others. He wore a maroon polo shirt and khaki slacks.

They were all talking about something having to do with the military. It was like they had just been to some convention for military scientific projects. There may have been certain aspects of the technology that they either hadn't understood or had been bored by. But there had been a woman there who had really absorbed and processed all the information.

The Asian man was now kind of giggling a little, like you would after seeing some kind of daring feat. He then said, almost looking at me, as if he felt I had been listening to and understanding the conversation, "Well, I guess that she is a HLA." (He pronounced "HLA" as "hullay.") I assmed that "HLA" meant "High-Level Analyst."

I was now up at the Fedex counter, coming to take care of whatever I had been told to take care of. The woman I had come to was the same woman as before. She had been pretty friendly before. But now she was really rude.

She had an envelope, which I knew was for me. But she was kind of angry that this envelope could be for me. She didn't want it to be mine. She didn't want to give it to me. She told me to give her my ID. I did. She seemed to be going through every number on my ID. Then she was going through every number, every digit, on the envelope.

She began tapping her fingernails on the counter, trying to find some kind of numerical reason not to give me my package. She was getting mad that she couldn't. I had a feeling she didn't even want to give me my ID back.

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a car like a limousine with a group of people. The interior surfaces of the limo may have been black. The inside of the limo was very dim, as if the windows were tinted. But it appeared to be a sunny afternoon outside.

A boy sat in a sideways seat, his back against the left side of the limo. To his left was the back side of the driver's seat. A mother-like person may have been driving the limo.

The boy made some kind of statement like, "I see the quarters are of all different colors. They won't be good to take." In my mind's eye I could see the boy's view. Against a black background were a few quarters. They all gleamed with flashing color. I remember one quarter for sure being pink. But others may have been yellow and blue.

A man somewhere, maybe even in my head, said, "That's a strong statement, a blind boy talking about the colors of things. I suppose that's reason enough not to do the thing after all."

I hadn't realized until this time that the boy was blind. I now understood that the boy was slowly being the person in the family who was looked to as the leader. The older man in the family had died recently.

The boy's statement had been taken seriously because he had been blind and yet made a statement about seeing. But it had also been taken seriously because it was one of the first times the boy had made an assertion for his family to listen to.

The boy kind of felt some anxiety. He didn't know whether he could or even should be a leader. He didn't know if his family really wanted him to be a leader.

I also personally wondered how the boy was expected to be the leader in the family. He was just a boy. There were a lot of older men in the family, including the older man who had made such a positive comment about the boy's colored-quarter statement.

The car was traveling past some church, which I saw outside the window. The church looked like a tan-bricked, one-story school. There was a kind of big, slightly rolling lawn in front of it.

I knew we were heading to the church to go to a funeral. I figured it was the funeral for the leader of the family, who, I'd thought, had been an older man. But it turned out that the funeral was for a young girl. I think, however, that it now occurred to me that the girl had been the leader of the family.

I was somehow informed how the girl had died. Her boyfriend had killed her. I saw the boyfriend in my mind. He was white, around 18-20 years old, and kind of a violent, crazy person. I now saw the story in something like an English newspaper that looked like it was formatted in an Asian style. I'm pretty sure that the newspaper was on paper. But the imagery also looks like an online paper.

Apparently the boyfriend killed the girl after she had told him she was only 7 years old. He'd thought that the girl had led him into falling in love with her, and that she had made him a pedophile. But it turned out that the whole thing had been a game. The girl and her mother were playing a little prank on the boy, and then, when the boy was thoroughly flustered, to tell the boyfriend the girl's real age. The girl 13.

But the prank turned out bad. The boyfriend got terribly violent right away and killed the girl. I think the mother got murdered as well.

Dream #2

It was night. I walked into a cafe. The cafe only seemed to be half-lit, as if the store were actually closed down. But there were a lot of workers behind the counter. The workers all wore black shirts and beige baseball caps. They may also have worn aprons. I walked to my left, past the counter. As I turned the corner to the right, I came to another counter.

Passing this way, I saw a girl I recognized as a friend from my past. (I don't think I really know her from waking life.) She was really pretty, with tan skin and blue eyes. Her light brown hair was turning grey. This surprised me. I couldn't believe my friend's hair was grey! But, then, I thought, we're all getting old, me and my friends.

Behind the second counter a lot of workers were all sat in folding chairs before a television. They were all watching some movie. This was like some kind of recreational activity for them. A man behind the counter stood up and walked toward the counter to me. I may have recognized him as a friend as well. He probably asked me what I would like. I probably asked him for a coffee.