# The strangest, strangest dream....



## Homeskooled (Aug 10, 2004)

I dream alot. Most of the time I remember them. But most of the time, the dreams are bizarre and incoherent, without a cogent storyline. The dream I had last night, though, wasn't.

I had arrived in New York City. I was going to work with a group of dysfunctional boys who didnt have anyone to take care of them and lived at a boy's home in the Bronx. I also had done some work, through my political campaign, which was considered "sensitive" by the government. I guess you could say I was somewhat of a spy. Just like a movie, the first part of the dream kind of built up my relationships with the troubled youth. One especially bright one wanted to become a doctor. Then men started showing up asking them questions, roughing them up. I was driving them in our van to a baseball game, when suddenly we were rammed by a car from the side. The boys scrambled out, I went to look in the car.....noone there. The perpetrator had left. Anyways, towards the end, one of the boys was kidnapped, and the rest were threatened. A couple of my roommates, who had also worked on the "sensitive" side of the campaign, came up to visit me, and we noticed that wherever we walked we were being tailed. Finally, we received a hand-written note to meet a "friend" at an old New York mansion.

My friends and I went there, and sitting on a patio outside, drinking tea, was........Janine! Except for one thing. She was a middle-aged Jamaican woman. Seated next to her was Dreamer, slowly sipping tea, gazing stoically through her sun-glasses. You could tell she was no stranger to international intrigue. I walked up and said, "Hello, Janine, how are you? Its a pleasure to finally make your aquaintance." "Yah man, tis good to meet you as well," she said. I thought to myself - didn't she look white in her Internet photo? I wonder how Martin really looks then? Being as delicate as I could, I said " Is your last name....Baker? Because...." "Yah man, it tis....well," and her voice broke into a whisper, " No, it tisnt....but she doesnt want to be found. Now stop asking questions. I have some things for you." As she said this, she slipped a folded slip of paper into my palm, and ushered me into a parlor through a beaded curtain. On the walls were all sorts of fragrant herbs. She handed me one - I guessed that she knew about my weird health problems - and ushered me into what I could only imagine would be called the grand hall. The walls were covered in Oriental tapestries, and the floors and pillars were of rose colored marble. Eventhough I was wearing my white dress shirt with khakis, I felt deeply underdressed. My friends and I followed her as she made a left into a gigantic library, and out a door in the back, which led onto another New York street. A dark van was parked near the curb. I opened up the folded note. It read, in shaky blue-inked cursive " If you want to live: 1. Get in the van. 2. Be discreet 3. Listen to the driver. 4. Get out at the airport .....There are people who care. " It was signed " The gentleman's trust". "Get in," I said, as I motioned to my friends. We piled into the van, our faces concealed by the murk of the tinted windows.

The driver barely acknowledged our presence as he sped, accelerating at a disturbing rate, down the residential street. " The key to staying alive, " he said, as he chomped on a cigar, " Is to never be IDed." He threw me a T-shirt with Grateful Dead on it. I took off my white dress shirt, and slipped the black T over my head. As I did so, he seemed to see someone on the sidewalk, holding up a wallet. He pulled over, grabbed the wallet through his driver side window, and then swore. Behind us was the same make of the car which had plowed into OUR vehicle, some weeks before. We'd been IDed. We pulled out, almost neck and neck with the white vehicle, and began racing towards the airport.....

That was pretty much it. But that was one of the most exciting, coherent dreams I ever had. It was a pleasure making your aquaintance, Janine and Dreamer. Well, almost, Janine. If my dream had continued, I imagine we might have met at the airport. That story reminded me of how much fun it is to write. Almost makes me want to finish the story....

Peace
Homeskooled


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## Guest (Jul 11, 2005)

That had me engrossed reading it!

Shame there wasn't an ending 

Quality dream though


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## terri* (Aug 17, 2004)

Get out of here!

My daughter remembers dreams in great detail like that.

Subject matter...unreal.

So, what do you think it means? :shock:

terri


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## Homeskooled (Aug 10, 2004)

Mrmole, 
Yeah, I was pretty engrossed too. Wish I knew the end....

Terri, 
Yeah, I usually have good dream recall. What does it mean? Well, I'm not into symbolism. I think things we want, our true intentions, etc...come out in dreams and become mixed with our recent worries, thoughts, and actions. I think that this dream means: I think it would be cool to meet Janine and Dreamer and have a DP meet, I've been watching too many action movies lately, and I'm probably doing too much political work as well. Might also mean that I'm leaning towards some sort of work with children in the future, and doing some writing again. Maybe I'll expand on this some time, and make it into a screenplay. My roommate in filmschool might be interested. I dont know. But I think it means I'm feeling better lately too.

Peace
Homeskooled


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## Guest (Jul 11, 2005)

Oracle here, grin.

That's who I think I was in your dream - ever see The Matrix? (the first one). The Spanish middle-aged lady who had beaded curtains in between her rather slumy apt. rooms? Neo and Morpheus finally show up in her house? and SHE is the Oracle, this very very ordinary, rather non-impressive middle aged lady?

That is what came through loud and clear to ME when reading your descriptions.

And it was a pleasure "meeting" you too, lol
Love,
J


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## Homeskooled (Aug 10, 2004)

Janine, 
Your double did look alot like Mary Alice who played the Oracle in Matrix Revolutions. But it was pretty clear in the dream that she wasnt you....you were hiding. I dont know exactly what that means. The oracle is one of your many faces? Or, my dream may have split your ego from your superego, and made them into several different "Janines". I suspect, though, that my subconscious thought it would be nice to meet you and Dreamer at least in a make-beleive way. Its kind of funny that Dreamer was wearing sunglasses. Guess I got that from her website. Your not into herbs, are you Janine? Anyways, I'll try thinking about the dream as I drift off tonight, and perhaps I'll get to the airport.

Peace
Homeskooled


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## Guest (Jul 12, 2005)

LOL....no I am so far NOT into herbs, lol...I'm a steak and potatoes gal. Nothing "New Age" about me in the slightest.

Remember, with any dream, we pick IMAGES that symbolize ideas for us, i.e., me as the Oracle (one of many faces), not because I AM an oracle, lololol...but because I'm such a know-it-all, etc. Maybe you were looking/considering the two sides of psychological issues (represented by me and Dreamer - nature/nurture, etc., the psychoanalytic versus the neurological)

You made us both very "international intrigue" ala I was The Matrix's oracle and Dreamer wore sunglasses like the Men in Black? LOL

Great dream though! And I would sincerely like to meet you VERY much (my only "Self" shall appear, lol)

L,
J


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## Homeskooled (Aug 10, 2004)

Likewise, Janine. If my health improves, I'll be up in New York City, Staten Island, actually, to visit my sister's convent. Probably a couple of months away, but who knows....

Peace
Homeskooled


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## sebastian (Aug 11, 2004)

What really annoys me is that i had a huge comment planned for this post, regarding a similar dream i had the other night. Well, similar in the sense that it was phenomenally bizarre. But of course now i completely forget it. I knew I should have written it down. As soon as i woke up i thought, "Okay, s. You have to write this down or you're going to forget." And the other half of me was saying, "Forget? What am I a hundred years old? Screw you if you think i'm going to forget." A few days have passed since then and i couldn't even tell you the general theme, except that it was wacky. Darn wacky.

So why don't you all just assume that you read something very strange and very witty and you were very impressed. And now you're all just a little bit more interested in the vagaries of my mind than you were before. Fair enough? I should be much obliged.

s.


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