Dream Log: May 1, 2001

I am at the airport. Everything is fine as I check my bags and prepare for departure. As I head towards the gate, however, I begin to notice chaos gradually brewing around me until the entire airport is engulfed in absolute panic. The monitors are saying that a very important and very large airplane has crashed in the vicinity, and all the public must be herded into a single large room for emergency procedures.

The room is full of thousands upon thousands of screaming people. A full-sized movie screen descends from the ceiling as we all gather around to see what's really going on. We are informed that the plane has not actually crashed, but rather a rogue group of passengers is busy brutally murdering everyone else on board. The screen actually shows live, uncut footage of the incident; we all watch in horror as the terrorists put guns to one innocent head after another, slit the throats of mothers and their children, hack the flight attendants to pieces. It looks like I won't be flying today, after all.

It is here that I wake up in cold sweat.

Graduation Karmic Clean Up

• I am graduating from college after just slipping through a serious bout of senioritis. Now I'm cleaning out my two big lockers in which I've stored stuff over the years (lockers in college?). On my right in this row are the two people I knew best when arriving as a freshman since we went to the same high school: my ex-girlfriend Radha and her roommate Meghann. I don't speak much to Radha, which isn't surprising since we haven't shared more than a few words in the past two years. But Meghann is my friend and we laugh at old memories and the strange stuff we pull out of our lockers. I find clothes I've never worn and CDs I've never listened to. On my left in my friend Adam, who I've known since the beginnings of consciousness in a montessori preschool. I hand him one of the CDs I find in my locker and he puts it in the stereo he has: Jazzanova. Meghann's mom and step-dad come to retrieve her stuff and I say hello to them. It's strange how I feel nervous about the future but at the same time refreshed to be cleaning out all this old junk that I have no use for. Simplifying my life and mind is perhaps the most fulfilling activity I know.

I'm a part of some spy group for the government and we're doing a case on some evil drug dealers. We go into action everyone carrying guns. We're outnumbered and once again I get shot in the back. However, the guy who shot me muttered something and the girl beside me was spared. I fall to the ground, pretending to be dead although I wasn't even in any pain at all. The evil people left and I, along with some other people are lying on the ground. I could feel the bullet in my back and I remember how it felt as it hit me. Suddenly all the people got up from the ground including me and we went back to our headquarters. A bunch of doctors are there to check how badly each of us are hurt. There is a metal bed and doors that we are supposed to go through after our check-up is done. All of us get into a straight line and we are told to strip out of all of our clothing. I do as I am told when it was my turn and a guy behind me made a comment about my body. I feel embarassed as I let the doctor check my bullet wound. He says all these things about nerves and my back but I do not understand him since he was using medical terms. He tells me I need to take the bullet out but he cannot do it for me now. I am not in any pain though, he explained why, but as I mentioned, I could not understand him. I walked to one of the doors, still naked. As I was going through the door I woke up wondering if there was still a bullet in my back.