Tomas's DJ - "Exploration of the inner Self"

I am flying home to Czech Rep. I remember my way through the airport. I was very confused about the organization of the airport. It wasn't very busy, but I had to walk for long and through a complex labyrinth of rooms. I fly home to visit my grandmother. There is my friend Ivan sitting next to me. We chat a little, but I cannot really understand what about.
Next, I am in my grandmother's house kitchen. I can clearly see the room with all the details. It's a good size room, all toned to a light green color. I am sitting by the table on a funny, wobbly chair with a thin cushion. I sit towards the living-room, with the white and blue ceramic clock behind me. I see my hands (!!!!!) holding a cup of tea. The tea is so clear, it must be an earl gray (my grand mum uses water from a well. Anything the water is used for taste amazing). I see the cup in incredible details. It is a small, wide, white, ceramic cup with a line of little green leafs around. It is worn off a bit over the years of using. I can feel the warmth of the cup in my hands. I think I am there on my own.
Suddenly, I hear someone knocking on one of the windows by my right hand. It surprises me, because the kitchen is on the first floor. So I look there.There is a homeless man (I assume that from the way he looks). It is not a winter time, but I can feel that it is pretty cold and miserable weather outside. I stand up and open the window, but not the one right in front of him, just one or two aside. I see he is hanging on the parapet of the window. The homeless starts telling me a story.He is saying the usual story,how difficult his life is... I look at him but I don't really listen. (I saw a homeless man begging in the underground the previous day, but I was listening to some music, so I didn't hear what he said. It might be somehow reflected in this dream). As he hangs,he moves towards me. I can see his dirty hands with long and dirty nails. He is missing many teeth and the ones he has left are pretty randomly scattered in the mouth. I notice one massive tooth in the middle of his jaw. It takes quite a lot of space inside his mouth. I am surprised by this and think for a moment how that happened. (I think I was becoming lucid at this point). I am also thinking to myself, "come on spill out the story and tell me how much money you need". (this is certainly connected to the homeless guy in the underground the previous day. Even though I couldn't hear, I saw him carefully counting some coins in his hand and saying something. I thought to myself, he is probably saying how much money he is missing for hostel or something). Nevertheless, I am still wondering how could he hand or stand there.(I think I woke up at this point,and realized it was just a dream.Then I fell asleep with the intention of continuing in the dream lucidly).
I am in my grand mum's kitchen again. I look at the homeless still hanging there. I think for a moment, and then I tell him to climb in and to tell me his life story. He starts telling me the usual story. (I don't remember details of the conversation, but I was being pretty tough).
I keep asking him very direct questions about his situation, breaking through his excuses to show him that the causes of his problems is no effort to change them, that he is just feeling sorry for himself. In his story, he describes that he was held by Japanese soldiers(:-D) who wanted to pull out the big tooth. He is saying that he cannot learn anything. I am getting annoyed quite a bit. I look him straight in the eye and tell him. "Look, I am not going to give you any money, but I will give you the opportunity to make them". At the back of my mind I am hoping that no one will come in, as that would be quite difficult to explain what does homeless man doing in the house. Then suddenly someone is knocking on the window again. I look there and I see Ivan with his friend 'Filak, Fifka Fiala'. They ask me whether I go out with them, or if I go running. So I show them the homeless man. They say ok, with understanding. (what do they understand to??). I ask them if they want to go running with me as I am going between 3-4pm. The homeless man says "I fuck it", I look at him, thinking that he probably assumed he was invited too.
Then my grand mum comes in. So I start explaining the whole story, they just stand and listen. Suddenly, I feel a little bit anxious whether I catch my flight back to UK today. I am thinking, how do I get to the airport? I am looking for some brochure, but I cannot find any. I must take a coach, but what time does it go? Does it go today at all? I think it's Sunday! I must have an email with all the details about the flight, and maybe there will be details about the coaches too. I feel even more anxious.(I believe I have lost my lucidity around here).
Its 3:30, I am standing in the lobby of my grand mum's house. It is a large cold room,with stone staircase up to the second floor and down to the basement. It always smells a little bit funny in there, thought I have never been able to identify the smell,its just the smell of my grand mum's cold lobby.
I have to leave, so I excuse myself and tell everybody that the homeless guy goes with me. But I cannot see him anywhere. I look around. I am surprised. Then he walks in from the kitchen. I tell him something (I don't know what it was) and his face just all brightens up, with a real happiness. I stand there, staring at him, thinking, what the hell have I said that made him so happy? He also stares at me, realizing that what he heard was not what I said. (I don't know how I know this. It's just a feeling). Then he gets all upset, his body posture weakens. I ask him what happened. He looks at me, and says "I thought, you said you were going to make me a cup of coffee". I can see the disappointment in his eyes. Then, everything stops. I just realize how much it meant to him, that someone would care enough to make him a cup of coffee,that someone would even offer him,in my eyes such trivial thing. I am starting to feel bad. Not for not making him the coffee, but for being so hard on him before... (this must come from the interaction with my friend the night before. We talked about life goals and directions, and as I often do, I was being a little bit hard on her, just to push her to realize what it is she wants to do and not what she is expected to do. I does work in most of the cases, but it may not be necessarily pleasant experience. She told me that even though it was helpful, I should be more supportive. I think she has a point. So I thought about it quite a bit before I went to bed).