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Jose Jones
- Joined
- Nov 22, 2000
- Posts
- 10,348
Are you given to profound dreams or have you ever had dreams that seriously made you question your life?
I was sitting at a table in a cafe with a man who was dressed in the costume of a fin de siecle British dandy. He was insisting to me that I was guilty of murder. I denied it- I had killed no one. Somewhat angrily I left the cafe and walked out of the village into the countryside as evening fell. It was a lovely, balmy evening and the air was thick with the smell of grass and spring.
I entered a cave... a cavern really. I could see because their were torches mounted on the walls. A beautiful girl came up so me- she had blonde hair and hazel eyes. She wore a light blue dress- but oddly, this dress reminded me of a Swiss costume or German from, again, the late 1800s.
"You did not have to run the way you did," she said to me... and she said something else, but I can't remember what it was! She took a very deliberate step towards me as she turned in to a mist and then stepped into me as if she were becoming part of me.
I am on the prairie. The sun is shining and the grasses are blowing in the wind. There are people with me- I don't know who they are- but they are not strangers. We find a bald patch of sand in the grass- the sand is boiling as if it were water- but it isn't wet.
Then a house out of nowhere- a shack so sun-bleached wood. The bearded "old-timer" in overalls with plaid shirt rises an yells pointing to me "Murder! Murder!"
I run. I run across the prairie until I am alone. I am alone. I run until I come across a prison and I walk right in. I see guys milling about- hanging out. Some are playing ping-pong. A couple of them are making a pizza from scratch. A few are watching TV.
I walk into a cell and this guy looks just like me- except that for some reason he is wearing a beard and is dressed in the costume of a seaman or sailer- yes- from about a hundred years ago- and he looks as though he's a bit more worn by life and the sun.
We know each other. "Hi," I say... "We have to break out of here! I didn't kill anybody!"
"Look around here," he says, "Do you see any bars? Do you see any guards?"
I didn't. In fact, looking around me at the place and the people, it really didn't look like a prison at all. In some ways, it reminded me of a some kind of recreation center- it was made of adobe and everyone seemed to be happy enough- but it was a prison- it was a prison....
"Let's just walk out of here," he says.
Any readings, brothers and sisters?
I was sitting at a table in a cafe with a man who was dressed in the costume of a fin de siecle British dandy. He was insisting to me that I was guilty of murder. I denied it- I had killed no one. Somewhat angrily I left the cafe and walked out of the village into the countryside as evening fell. It was a lovely, balmy evening and the air was thick with the smell of grass and spring.
I entered a cave... a cavern really. I could see because their were torches mounted on the walls. A beautiful girl came up so me- she had blonde hair and hazel eyes. She wore a light blue dress- but oddly, this dress reminded me of a Swiss costume or German from, again, the late 1800s.
"You did not have to run the way you did," she said to me... and she said something else, but I can't remember what it was! She took a very deliberate step towards me as she turned in to a mist and then stepped into me as if she were becoming part of me.
I am on the prairie. The sun is shining and the grasses are blowing in the wind. There are people with me- I don't know who they are- but they are not strangers. We find a bald patch of sand in the grass- the sand is boiling as if it were water- but it isn't wet.
Then a house out of nowhere- a shack so sun-bleached wood. The bearded "old-timer" in overalls with plaid shirt rises an yells pointing to me "Murder! Murder!"
I run. I run across the prairie until I am alone. I am alone. I run until I come across a prison and I walk right in. I see guys milling about- hanging out. Some are playing ping-pong. A couple of them are making a pizza from scratch. A few are watching TV.
I walk into a cell and this guy looks just like me- except that for some reason he is wearing a beard and is dressed in the costume of a seaman or sailer- yes- from about a hundred years ago- and he looks as though he's a bit more worn by life and the sun.
We know each other. "Hi," I say... "We have to break out of here! I didn't kill anybody!"
"Look around here," he says, "Do you see any bars? Do you see any guards?"
I didn't. In fact, looking around me at the place and the people, it really didn't look like a prison at all. In some ways, it reminded me of a some kind of recreation center- it was made of adobe and everyone seemed to be happy enough- but it was a prison- it was a prison....
"Let's just walk out of here," he says.
Any readings, brothers and sisters?
