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    maboroshi

    bashful around co-worker; obama and southeast asia

    by , 01-08-2012 at 02:52 PM (477 Views)
    Good morning, everybody.

    Dream #1

    I was in an office. The office was like a hallway of big, heavy desks, rather than a big floor full of cubicles. There was some kind of dull, greenish, fluorescent light. But daylight flowed in through windows, giving the atmosphere more of a gold-white feel.

    I stood before some desk. I had probably been given some task by "my boss," who then walked away. There was a stack of papers on the desk. I picked it up and turned away from the desk, as if I were going to walk to my own workspace.

    But the hallway was now blocked all the way across by the desk of one of my old senior co-workers, RW. RW sat at his desk. In the usual mild manner he took with me, he asked me if I was happy with my new position. Apparently I was doing research on semiconductors.

    I bashfully giggled and told RW it was okay. RW said, "Well, I certainly don't think I could do something like what you're doing. It would be too much for me, just picking up on semis like that. That's really hard."

    I just giggled and smiled. I couldn't do anything else. RW, who does research on diagnostic equipment and PBMs, had a reputation for being extremely witty, incisive, and self-assured. He could cut anybody down. But he'd always been gentle with me. Even now, I didn't want to spoil my unique relationship with RW by getting over-confident.

    But RW said, "Now, come on! You have to admit that what you're doing is pretty good!"

    I didn't know what to say. I think I might have started to talk about how I thought RW's research was really cool. But before I could say that, I think RW started talking about how his reseach wasn't so difficult.

    Dream #2

    I was in an auditorium full of high schoolers or college kids. There was a group of high-level officials on the stage. The stage was really high up, compared to the seats. I was in the third or fourth row. But I often saw as if I were a video camera, closed right up on the group.

    The group all stood in a kind of random fashion. There weren't any podiums. I'm pretty sure there weren't even any mics. There was no decoration on the stage, either. It was just a bare stage.

    The people on stage were from all over the world. There was some kind of major announcement being made. It had to do with some decision of President Obama's.

    But the main person, who was to make the bulk of the announcement, was alternately Obama and some tall, bald, white, slightly overweight man. But even when the man was Obama, he spoke of Obama in the third person.

    The man first asked a woman to leave the room. The woman's name was something like Piti or Peetee. She looked (to my reflection now) Iranian. She had short hair in a kind of Jackie-O cut. She had pale, olive-colored skin, and a healthy, round figure. Her dress was pale blue-grey. But the fabric was really strange, like a mix between terry cloth and cashmere.

    Piti left through a door to a stairwell, on the right (my right) of the stage. After she left, the man said that Piti had already determined that if Obama's decision was unfavorable to her, she would take some kind of action against him. Apparently Obama had already done something to Piti, basically barring her from making any appearances in the United States.

    But Obama's decision was going to go against Piti's desires. The man explained to all of us that Piti basically had control over all of Southeast Asia. She could bar (I think the man called it "sanction" in the dream) Obama from Southeast Asia, just as he'd barred her from the United States.

    It was pretty obvious (I don't know why) that it was a lot worse for Obama being "sanctioned" from Southeast Asia than it was for Piti to be barred from the United States. But it seemed pretty obvious, as well, that Obama wouldn't tolerate this sanction. So we were all basically told to prepare for a conflict.

    The man had now, apparently, handed out paper presentations to all of us. The presentation was, I think, an argument for why we should aim for some kind of compromise, rather than heading into a conflict. But the presentations were all in Chinese.

    A boy asked the man (who may now have been alone on the stage) if he could give an English translation of the presentation. I turned around so I could see the boy. The auditorium was huge! And it was packed -- full of high school or college students!

    The boy sat at a folding chair along the right wall. He was an Asian boy with a squarish, shortish haircut, squarish glasses, and a dark blue winter jacket.

    The man may have voiced a little disappointment that the boy needed translation. But there was a girl, also Asian, sitting with a female friend. This girl actually yelled back to the boy, "Why do you need a translation? Didn't you study your own language, like everybody else does?"

    The boy said something like, "Well, yeah, I studied. But I just thought if we got a little translation here and there, it could help us get through the rest of the text faster on our own."

    The girl sighed at the boy, like she couldn't believe what a lazy excuse-maker he was. I turned back forward and looked at my text as the girl said, "It basically says that China believes, if the whole world cooperated, we could reach the ends of the universe, with the energy we have right now."

    I looked at the presentation in the hands of the girl to my left. There was a screenshot printed on the page. The shot was of some YouTube video, showing some view of the universe. The sky was mostly black, with just a few faint dots of stars.

    For some reason I was now running to the bathroom. I was somehow involved with some meeting with President Obama. But it also had to do with some branch of Satanism. The branch was named something like Gen Schele. But "Gen" may have been "Glen." And "Schele" may have been "Shell" or "Schnell."

    Obama had possibly already explained something to me about the government, this cult, and some decision being made in international affairs. I really disapproved of it. I thought it would end with a lot of people dying. But I thought it would be weak to voice my disapproval. And I acted like it was perfectly natural.

    But now I needed to go to the bathroom so bad! I was running toward a restroom. I was wearing khaki shorts for some reason (great way to meet the President, right?). And now I couldn't hold my pee anymore. The inner thighs of my shorts were all soaked.

    I didn't think it was so bad. If I got to the bathroom and to a urinal, I could pee the rest of the way in there. Then my shorts would likely dry quickly.

    I was in a bathroom now, peeing in a urinal. But my pee was coming out so much, so forcibly, that I was still spraying all over my shorts, making them even more and more soaked. Plus, I just wasn't stopping! I had peed so much that the urinal was completely full. A huge puddle was already forming on the floor.

    At some point Obama saw me. He asked me, with a bit of disappointment and disdain, what was bothering me so much. I didn't want to tell him what was bothering me. I didn't want him to think I was weak. But I'm pretty sure he knew what was bothering me.

    I just wanted, really badly, to finish peeing, so I could go into one of the stalls, crouch into a fetal position, and just lie there until my shorts finally dried.

    (When I woke up, I seriously expected to find that I'd wet the bed, my dream was so vivid. But, thankfully, I did not. Also -- just as a side note, the "Gen Schele" might be a mix-up of the name of the artist Egon Schiele, and also of the name Rothschild. I've been reading about the Rothschilds lately.)

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    Comments

    1. maboroshi's Avatar
      Ugh..., I hate to comment on my own dreams. But just ruminating over my weekend chores, I realized that "Gen Schele" has everything to do with the Rothschilds. So I wanted to get my idea down.

      The first Rothschild to start up the money-making dynasty was Mayer Amschel Rothschild. His family lived in Frankfurt in the 1700s. In those times, Jews weren't allowed to have last names (another shining example of Western "civilization"). So the Jews would take their names from the signs in front of their houses. The Rothschilds got their name from the red ("roth") shield ("schild") in front of their house.

      As Mayer got wealthier, however, he moved to a house with a green shield in front of it. As I read about Mayer, it kept bothering me -- how would you say "green shield?" But I was too lazy to go to Google Translate to find out. So I kept turning names around in my head, like "Groeneschild," "Groenschild," and "Grueneschild."

      The connection to Satanism probably has to do with the fact that Mayer had a secret bank underground. This reminds me of Mithraism, the underground religion of Ancient Roman times. Mithraism, as far as I know, isn't connected to Satanism in any practical way. But they are both connected in a symbolic way -- since they are both religions of the unconscious.

      (EDIT, 1/9/12, 8:03 PM ET: Another comment, within this comment, for my own purposes, so I don't make this thing pop back up on the recent comments screen and bore everybody with my nonsense.

      I was really curious to see if anybody had been banned from the United States like the woman in my dream -- Piti. I found out that on Friday, Livia Acosta Noguera, a consul in Miami from Venezuela, had been expelled from the U.S.

      The news was big on Sunday, right around the time I was writing the dream. Probably some time between Friday and Sunday I heard or saw the news on the internet and just processed it into my mind.

      Here is a photo of Livia Acosta Noguera -- the curtains behind her are grey and blue. The dress of "Piti" in my dream was blue-grey. "Piti" in my dream, by the way, did not look like Livia Acosta Noguera.)

      Updated 01-10-2012 at 02:08 AM by maboroshi