Dreams I've had since returning from Chicago April 27
1 My boyhood neighbor Michael Gross, was floating around in the air near the ceiling of a tall warehouse like room. I was on the stairs watching him. He would sort of jump into the air way off the ground, and then somehow slide over at a high speed to rest on a pipe on a wall. he would slow his fall towards the ground like an astronaut. He would fly through the air this way and that. He was a hero. The culmination of his heroics was that he and this cop, I think it was the Italian Waltham cop who would not shake my hand at the TV station, disappeared. The cop was controlled by the Michael Gross powers. But all the heroics turned out to be phone; in the basement of the huge warehouse like room I saw a room where they kept all the props and things, just as in a play in a theater, that were used to put on the show about Michael's heroics. These people in the basement who were putting on the phony show wanted me to spy for them.
2 There was a football game involving tiny kids on the Midway in Hyde Park in Chicago; it was it seemed at night, but the field was well lit. One little child less than two feet tall kicked off the ball. Waiting a long way off to receive the ball, were what looked like pretty yellow haired little white children, dressed in black priestly looking robes, who were less than two feet tall. They waited a long way off as if they expected the ball to travel 50 yards. They looked up in the air as if they expected it to travel high in the air; but the kicker of the ball, who I did not see he being off to the left of my field of vision, was another little child, I think a white boy with brown wavy hair who was less than two feet tall. This in the vicinity of the ancient Christian architecured neo-gothic U of Chicago buildings.
3 Money and clothers were moved from one place to another. I do not remember this dream now, but I noted down such words.
4 I was cleaning up my brother's apartment in Chicago. I had done this in real life a few days before. The apartment was very dark. I felt depressed. As I cleaned up his apartment for him, rats or mice jumped in and out of my pockets.
5 There was this big building, about 80 yards wide, three tall stories high, about 60 feet high, the walls on the outside were curved like the outside of a medieval castle, and colored a light brown color, but the building was modern looking. From my point of view whefrom where I was located the left half of the building belonged to my brother. He had put up some kind of blue tarp, about 20 feet high and about 60 yards wide, up on the third floor wall of his half of the building, which stretched all the way over to the other half of the building where it covered up some important words on the other half related to the fact that the other half of the building was owned by Neiman Marcus. This was a problem. I saw a family walk into the ground floor of the Neiman Marcus half of the building. They were white, the adults were average height, there was a young adult female with them, the child I guess, who was about five feet two inches tall, pretty, with long thin straight waist length brown hair; she wore tight blue jeans, that showed she had stocky muscular yet shapely legs like cylinders nine inches in diameter. They were all excited because of these emails I had sent to this Neiman Marcus containing poetic prayers I had written designed to spiritually electrify places. As I watched them go in the building, I was thinking, did they even recognize that I, me, the person they were glancing at, was the author and creator of the exciting email blitz? I was on I think the second floor of my brother's side of the building, smoothing over the feelings of my brother's friends, who had been hurt by words spoken by my father while he was visiting my brother. I was talking to these friends of my brother about the impending economic meltdown in the USA; I was telling them that to survive the impending meltdown they had to become good at camping, tenting, hunting and fishing, or good at serving foreign tourists coming to the USA, or some third thing I do not remember now, because the economy was going to come crashing down.
2 There was a football game involving tiny kids on the Midway in Hyde Park in Chicago; it was it seemed at night, but the field was well lit. One little child less than two feet tall kicked off the ball. Waiting a long way off to receive the ball, were what looked like pretty yellow haired little white children, dressed in black priestly looking robes, who were less than two feet tall. They waited a long way off as if they expected the ball to travel 50 yards. They looked up in the air as if they expected it to travel high in the air; but the kicker of the ball, who I did not see he being off to the left of my field of vision, was another little child, I think a white boy with brown wavy hair who was less than two feet tall. This in the vicinity of the ancient Christian architecured neo-gothic U of Chicago buildings.
3 Money and clothers were moved from one place to another. I do not remember this dream now, but I noted down such words.
4 I was cleaning up my brother's apartment in Chicago. I had done this in real life a few days before. The apartment was very dark. I felt depressed. As I cleaned up his apartment for him, rats or mice jumped in and out of my pockets.
5 There was this big building, about 80 yards wide, three tall stories high, about 60 feet high, the walls on the outside were curved like the outside of a medieval castle, and colored a light brown color, but the building was modern looking. From my point of view whefrom where I was located the left half of the building belonged to my brother. He had put up some kind of blue tarp, about 20 feet high and about 60 yards wide, up on the third floor wall of his half of the building, which stretched all the way over to the other half of the building where it covered up some important words on the other half related to the fact that the other half of the building was owned by Neiman Marcus. This was a problem. I saw a family walk into the ground floor of the Neiman Marcus half of the building. They were white, the adults were average height, there was a young adult female with them, the child I guess, who was about five feet two inches tall, pretty, with long thin straight waist length brown hair; she wore tight blue jeans, that showed she had stocky muscular yet shapely legs like cylinders nine inches in diameter. They were all excited because of these emails I had sent to this Neiman Marcus containing poetic prayers I had written designed to spiritually electrify places. As I watched them go in the building, I was thinking, did they even recognize that I, me, the person they were glancing at, was the author and creator of the exciting email blitz? I was on I think the second floor of my brother's side of the building, smoothing over the feelings of my brother's friends, who had been hurt by words spoken by my father while he was visiting my brother. I was talking to these friends of my brother about the impending economic meltdown in the USA; I was telling them that to survive the impending meltdown they had to become good at camping, tenting, hunting and fishing, or good at serving foreign tourists coming to the USA, or some third thing I do not remember now, because the economy was going to come crashing down.
posted by David Virgil at 11:33 PM
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