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Dream Log: July 11, 2001 (idea)
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by
stash
Sat Jul 14 2001 at 18:11:56
Fly To The Mountain
An old man with a
lemur
and
shaman
ic tendencies gives me
riddle
s. He gets me to solve dream puzzles by moving my body in very precise gestures and performing certain actions like running up and down stairs, climbing on a roof, and spinning around. I
implore
him as to what it's all about, but he's
mischievous
. After awhile, I am released, and I try to
fly
away up towards the mountain that overlooks the landscape. It reminds me of the hills behind my house in
Santa Rosa
.
Now I'm there at my house, flying around the
cul-de-sac
while my friends run around.
Will Smith
is there and I chase him into his house (my house actually). Again I try to fly to the mountain but don't make it.
Sitting on the curb near my house, smoking
reefer
with friends. We get the tip that the
cops
are coming so I walk innocently down the my neighbor,
Michael
's, long driveway then hop the fence after the cops pass. I fly up over the neighborhood and down into the trees surrounding the creek. The cops are in there and I bop them on the head.
A
high school
field trip
about
career
s. I miss the one about
Artificial Intelligence
so I go along on a generic one. Walking up
spiral stairs
. I'm supposed to meet everybody at the
beach
since I'm driving myself, but I get lost and end up at some beach I've never been to. It's a wide, white sand beach on what looks like
San Francisco Bay
. There are crowds of people out lounging under the sun, tossing
beach ball
s, throwing
frisbee
. The beach goes from the water far back inland to a residential road. I park in front of a condo along the street and cross to the sand. Everyone I see is now playing a
musical instrument
. Beautiful sparkling blue water and white, white sand. Then all my fellow students and teachers arrive. They put on a
graduation
ceremony of sorts: we all gather around a little circular
kiddie pool
and put paper cups floating in the water. We are doing a
lottery
by seeing who picks the odd numbered cup. Everyone's cup is numbered 9, which I take to repeating over and over like in the
Beatles
' "
Revolution 9
": "Number nine, number nine, number nine..." Finally someone draws the #1, a girl I know named
Elizabeth
Sayed. We look into the pool to see whose cup has the most water in it. I grab mine back and take a swig. Ah, it's a beautiful day.
Dream Log: July 10, 2001
Dream Log: July 12, 2001
Nalgene
Dream Log: July 13, 2001
A.I.