Dream log

Memorable, especially for the way in which it ended.

I live in a tall apartment block. My unit has a wide, long window which faces out onto an unfamiliar city. The shape of the apartment block is like a 'C', and my unit is in the centre, several storeys high.

It is night. I am the only one awake, sitting out in the lounge, looking out of the window. I see aeroplanes taking off from the left, and climbing away to the right. It is a soothing sight, amid the twinkling night lights of the city. Suddenly another 'plane takes off - it rises sharply, at about 45°. It levels a little, then, at the far right of the vista, it seems to climb directly up into the air. It drops and climbs once, twice, and I think it's a military 'plane, one of the ones that can hover, but it moves too fast, and has too many lights.

Then I realise it's a helicopter, and it's coming towards me. I'm shocked, I don't know whether to move or stay. The helicopter - at a distance it's more like a gyrocopter - comes close enough to shout at. I try to warn the pilot, to tell him he's too close, he'll wake everyone. I realise the gyro is a motor scooter, a Vespa, and the pilot is a tall dark-skinned man, older than me but not a whole generation apart. He grins, and says he's there to deliver pizza but couldn't find a way into apartment block. He asks me to let him in, and I demurr.

My attention is drawn by my downstairs neighbour, who puts his head out from the balcony and calls up to me. I reach down to touch his hand, and then I climb down to visit him.

He is a young man my own age, who (in real life as well as in the dream) I co-edit the university newspaper with. He is sitting in his balcony, at a computer. I admonish him, both for having the equipment outside and for working on the paper in the middle of the night. He says the computer is safe where it is, and he is working on an assignment - an acceptable excuse.

We go inside to his apartment, identical to mine. I wonder if anyone will miss me upstairs if I stay here all night. We sit/lie on his couch-bed and start talking. He tells me he wanted to see me as I was his co- and he needs me for an AIM or AMY meeting (the acronyms have no meaning to me, in the dream or in real life).

Somehow we draw into an embrace (although I hold no attraction for him in real life), and I am vaguely embarassed, aware of the light and flimsy clothes I am wearing. He starts to kiss my neck and shoulders. It is an exquisite feeling, so pleasurable I have to pull away. A nagging thought occurs to me, I ask him about his girlfriend - does she know? He laughs and says she is a social student, she understands. I am not satisfied and keep asking, ruining the feeling. He pulls away.

He gets up, and I know I have done the wrong thing. There is no harm and no shame in what we were doing. I feel young and inexperienced again, but this time I can fix the mistake. He goes to open the curtains against what is now a sky blue with day - but I stop him. He comes down beside me and once again we embrace. He is close and warm - the feeling of two friends becoming intimate. Seamlessly, with no embarrassment, no break in our pleasure and joy in eachother, we join and I feel myself filled. We begin to rock, slowly, in rhythm.

Just then, I slowly feel a wave of consciousness wash over me, and I feel the bitter disappointment of awakening. As I awake the feeling of being filled and pleasured stays with me.

All I can remember is that I, the faction of moJoe (an important player in the secret theological warefare that rages heatedly under the placid exterior of western society) actually had to team up with the Church of Scientology in a desparate gambit to rid the world of the Church of Mormon. All I can remember is scenes of action and danger as I and the Large haired Hollywood hero type liason from the CoS braved the perils of fighting the Evil LDS Empire.

I'm not sure how this epic theological adventure story ended because my subconcious mind kept stumbling over the team up with the Church of Scientology part, to an effect somewhat like watching a David Lynch movie on a DVD with a scratch in it. I guess the ends often don't justify the means, even in dreamland.

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