Morning of November 28, 2018. Wednesday. Dream #: 18,972-04. Reading time (optimized): 1 min. Readability score: 56. I am in an unknown residence which my dream self erroneously perceives as my current address as is often the case. I own a big computer printer that also serves as a modem. Much of my current conscious self’s identity is present. I am aware of Zsuzsanna’s presence. I am looking at the Internet, but something happens that causes something to happen to the printer, though I do not perceive it as needing repair by the end of my dream. I may have bumped part of the top. There is a row of several cylindrical containers, horizontally oriented, that resemble oversized cylindrical fuses of about four inches long. They are full of blue liquid. Two of the rightmost ones fall out from where they are connected and spill over the circuitry. Most of the electronics and circuit boards at the bottom are visible. My printer has no cover. Later, I see that an ice-like (or powder-like) residue is covering all of the circuitry. First, I think the printer was damaged by the spill, though I then consider it is part of a process to keep it from overheating. It is likely that the process relates to gamma-aminobutyric acid, the natural form, not medical. The fluid in the containers is also an association with melatonin. As electronic circuity is autosymbolism for the brain and concurrent brain activity, my dream at this point would indicate pulling back on the initiation of consciousness (in relevance to thinking or attempting to read) to sleep longer.
I got a phone call from a friend who was across the bay. He asked me to bring him a large metal cylinder that he had forgotten to take when he left. He told me he needed it right away. I looked where he told me to and found it. It was quite heavy. I wondered how I was going to be able to carry it and still be able to keep my balance. Then I noticed it was attached to what looked like a harness. I managed to get it on my back and all strapped in. I still was not sure if I could manage such a heavy load, but decided to give it a try. I pushed off the dock and began to fly over the shallow water. Because the cylinder was secured on my back and not shifting it's weight, I was able to handle the extra weight. I do not know what is in the tank, but I assume it is some kind of fuel for his fishing boat. I took off across the bay to where my friend was waiting. When I got there he asked me to stay for a while. He had some friends coming over and he would be grilling. I agreed to stay. I got comfortable on the dock. (There is not much I remember in this part of the dream., but he is only there part of the time. He keeps going elsewhere to be with his other friends then returns. At one point we all get together and eat.) While we were all sitting around my friend's cabin after the meal, a man comes up and tells my friend that he was only authorized two fishing passes and there were a lot more people using it. I told the man that only two people had been fishing, the rest were just friends that were visiting. The man left, but I then had a very uncomfortable feeling come over me. I noticed how everyone else was acting jittery and nervous. I felt that I had unknowingly been involved in something illegal and it had nothing to do with fishing passes. The last of the food had been put away and my friend left with his other friends, leaving me alone in the cabin. I wondered what was in the tank I brought over. I looked around and found the tank. When I lifted it, I was surprised to discover that it was now very light. Whatever had been in it was no longer there. I unscrewed the lid and looked inside. Empty. Then I took my finger and ran it on the inside of the container. A white residue remained on my finger. I smelled it, but couldn't smell anything. Then I touched my finger to my tongue to taste it. It had a slightly sweat taste, but it was nothing familiar. Suddenly I realized what I had done. I had no idea what was in that container. Why would I taste it! I thought of the old detective shows where they always tasted the white powder to see if it was cocaine. But I had no idea what cocaine taste like, so what sense did that make. I put the lid back on the container and put it back where I found it. Then I headed into the kitchen. I heard my friend returning and I grabbed the broom and began to sweep the floor. That is all I remember.
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