[11:00 PM] I don't know how it happened, but I somehow angered Bill Gates to the point that he was using all of his wealth, and any manpower he could muster, to get me killed. Initially I was in a building with a friend of mine, #2662-31, being pursued by a hispanic assassin that Gates hired. We both rounded some stairs and ran further down, but, as I turned around, I noticed he took a different direction than directly behind us. I stopped my friend, as I concluded he was trying to take a shortcut and would intercept our path, so we should instead turn back. We began running and halfway up the stairs saw him also going up the stairs. He told us he expected us to have done this, and we turned back around again and continued running. During this time, I felt very much like Bill Gates was playing a game with us (as in, he was having fun doing this). I don't know how he told us this, though I remember seeing his face very clearly at one point in the dream, and he said he would be installing cameras everywhere (on the planet o.o) incrementally, until we were caught. He also stated that everyone would begin searching for us (it kind of felt like he put a post on something similar to America's Most Wanted). Yet he would spare one of us, so long as either myself or my friend was caught. We ended up on a bus, and both hid between the seats because, as the bus began moving, armed men started walking down the aisles looking for us. I noticed for some reason that many asian men were hiding in the same spot as I was, and the guards would talk to them, and apologize for confusing them with either myself or my friend (who is asian). Twice, two separate guards passed me but didn't say anything (or perhaps didn't see me), despite me being hidden in between some seats. As this was happening, I managed to find a piece of paper and a costume and place it over me. Eventually a guard did spot me, and immediately apologized for wasting my time, once I showed him the piece of paper (which had the name Frank instead of PonyLemon). Once the guard passed me, my friend told me he thought it was wrong I lied to the guy, and should be honest about who I am. I felt incredulous at his hypocrisy, even debating to myself whether or not I should tell the guard my friend is one of the guys to capture, especially considering this would mean I was safe. I decided against it though, unless I felt like he was going to throw me under the bus. I don't remember getting off the bus, but we ended up finding a gang of refugees or something, who immediately took us in. I believe we lived in an RV for a bit, and ended up driving to one of the member's home, where my friend and I crashed in the basement. We both seemed to have aged significantly (by like 30 years), and had long scraggly beards. We were also aware that it would only get harder to escape, and were doing our best to come up with a solution, which we finally managed to do- a time machine! We started building the machine, or perhaps had it finished, when I woke up. [3:00 AM] (I kept my eyes closed when I awoke, so I'm only guessing the time) I was in an auditorium, near the front, where a class was being taught. While sitting there I see this girl I used to really like there as well, and she decided to sit next to me. We caught up a bit, and began flirting for a while, pushing each other playfully. Later on, we moved around and sat together at a different table, but still in the auditorium, where we observed someone I've seen before in my classes (but never talked to) tell the teacher he needed to drop out of this course (about filters). The teacher tried to convince him that he didn't need to, but the student said he did not need this class, and he could take an alternative more suited to his interests. There was a lot more to this, but I didn't get a chance to jot notes down when I awoke.
Good morning, everybody. Dream #1 A TV interview show, like Oprah, with two people on the stage. One of the people was a black-Latino man. The other may have been a black man. They both sat in swivel chairs on a smallish, slightly raised, circular platform. The black-Latino man sat on the left. The black-Latino man had been diagnosed with HIV about twenty years ago. But he was still really healthy. In fact, I thought, he may have been even healthier than the other man on stage, who didn't have HIV. Dream #2 I was in an office, sitting at a cubicle. I was kind of slouched back in my chair, maybe with a knee pressing against the edge of my desk. I could see the CPU for my computer on the desk. It was taller and wider than usual, and pale grey. Somebody, possibly a pretty woman who was my boss, tossed a cardboard box on my desk. I opened it. Inside was some kind of pale grey device that looked like an electric label maker. It was long and narrow, with a keypad of yellow, red, and green buttons. It had some sort of rolling tape or paper dispenser coming out the top. I knew or learned, somehow, that this was a new device from Apple. I knew that this device probably wasn't mine. But I figured I'd hook it up to my computer and use it anyway. I didn't even know what the device did. I found some wires in the box. I then learned the instructions for the device -- somehow -- I didn't read any instructions or look at any papers or anything. I knew that the device sednt messages to the office printer. The printer then printed these messages out. The device had to be connected by wires to the printer through a long, complicated process. I thought the process was too long. I didn't want the device anymore. I put it back in the box. My boss, the pretty woman, sat down in the cubicle behind me. I realized the device had been meant for her. I said, relaxedly, as if it were true, "I was just looking at this new device you got. I was trying to see if I could hook it up to your computer for you, so you don't have to. I think I can do it." There was now a view of Bill Gates, or somebody who looked like him, except, possibly, with no glasses and skinnier eyes. Bill Gates was surrounded by a group of people in a space that looked kind of like an office, a kitchen, and some kind of science lab, near a window on some high up floor of a skyscraper. Bill Gates was talking as if he were the head of Apple. He was saying that he hadn't actually made a really big deal regarding some kind of copyright or patent dispute over one of his products. He didn't actually care too much about it. Bill Gates now lifted up a device. It was like a water-pitcher. But it was as big as a CPU column, and it was shaped like the Apple logo. It had a grey-tan outline, and a body of clear, smoky-grey plastic. Gates was pouring out glasses of water for everybody. But I was trying to get a better view of this device (as if I were watching onTV). The device, I knew, was some kind of computer device. It had some kind of mechanism at its mouth, where the water poured out. I just couldn't see what it was. I was now standing before a desk, at which sat a guy I know from a Starbucks I go to. The guy was apparently trying to sell me works of art. The guy was flipping through the pages of a book. I had probably seen the paintings I had wanted already, as if I had already looked through the book. But the guy was flipping through the pages so quickly that I wasn't sure if we'd gotten to or passed the pictures of the paintings. Finally I told the guy something about how I'd look for the pictures more carefully -- probably just by looking through the book myself. The guy kind of acted annoyed. He started talking with a friend of his. I got worried that the guy was getting bored with me. I wondered if I was being too specific with the pictures I wanted. I thought maybe I should just take one that I thought looked kind of like the ones I wanted. But I also really liked the pictures, and I thought my choice would also be interesting and impressive to the guy as well. I remembered one picture, black and white, of a Millet-like painting of two people standing out on the field. I kept searching for this painting, but I couldn't find it. But I found the second painting I was looking for. This was of a big shrub on a field of clumpy grass, possibly with a little cabin in the distance. The photo of this painting was also in black and white. I was apparently going to buy the photos, and not the paintings themselves. Also -- possibly -- the photos I'd buy would also be the pages from this book -- like the guy would cut the pages out of this book and sell them to me.
Morning of January 4, 1998. Sunday. I am near a water reservoir in an unfamiliar location which has apparently been contaminated by army tanks and jeeps somehow ending up in it (though I am not sure of how this had happened). A man who reminds me of Bill Gates (and who may be him) starts warning people about this situation and says that people could start dying. However, the problem is supposedly being solved (in a seemingly timely manner) by putting large plastic tarpaulins over the inside walls of the reservoir (though that does not seem logical as I do not think water could properly filter through them). I help with the task and it is seemingly working. In an additional dream or offset of this sequence, I am dancing and chanting in a very positive and cheerful mood (commonly recurring). In dreams, water has been validated for me to represent sleep. The condition of water in a dream relates directly to the dynamics of sleep in real time. Water getting lower over time represents the natural waking transition, a scene which has occurred at least once virtually every night for the past fifty years. In this case, during the waking transition, there is even the additional tarpaulin association (dream sign) with bed sheets. Translated directly: “The water is contaminated by the presence of army tanks and jeeps in it though using tarpaulins to line the reservoir will filter the water” becomes, “Sleep is presently somewhat restless with conflicting thoughts towards waking but by relaxing more within comfortable clean sheets a bit longer, sleep will be better.”
Recent Comments
