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  • I need to write it down now while I can still remember some of the details. I’ve never remembered such a vivid, bizarre dream as this, and I tell you, it felt very real. A part of me seriously wonders…was it a dream? Or was I transported somewhere else, as someone else, or maybe as me, just in a different dimension and time? I know none of the answers to these questions. I only know what I remember from the bizarre, “dream” I’ll call it, but that just doesn’t ring true as to what it was. I’m not even going to bother looking for a message or a sign, because none of it made any sense like that. I will just report what I remember.

    It began with an interview. I was there, observing, but I was not part of the interview. I was not being interviewed, nor was I an interviewer. I was just there, “presence-less”. She was a rather large black woman being interviewed, maybe in her mid-twenties, with tattoos on her arms and torso. They were asking her if she was really serious about what she was going to do, if she was committed enough to go through with it. She reassured the interviewers that she meant business.

    The next thing I remember was the scene just outside of the warehouse. The warehouse was some sort of a large manufacturer of some unknown product or products, whatever they made was not germaine to the story that unfolded. It was nighttime. There was a large van parked on the street in front of the warehouse, and there were people inside and outside of the van dying, or already dead, including the large black woman with the tattoos. It was clear that this was what she had been interviewed about. These deaths were happening for a reason, they had been planned this way, and she had willingly given herself over to this bizarre act, so committed was she to the “cause”, whatever it was. It clearly had religious overtones.

    Next thing I knew, I was inside the warehouse, and I was a worker there. I was new. Another worker commented on the sick religious people who were killing themselves for their cause out front, and asked if I was one of them. I denied it vigorously, then wondered to myself why I felt so defensive about being asked the question. I didn’t even know those people, and I had been shocked when I’d seen the girl, whom I’d earlier watched being interviewed. So, I tried to blend in in the warehouse, act like I knew what I was doing, and hope that I didn’t get caught.
  • I quickly learned that no one knew what I was supposed to be doing. It was mine to figure it out. But, I had no idea, and was getting no clues. So, I spent most of the dream doing my best to fake it, to blend in, to seem like I knew what I was doing, and this seemed to work. It was a good thing, because the warehouse was not a nice place. There was something very devious about whatever it was they were up to in there, and they were very suspicious of everyone. I really have no idea who “they” were, but it was just understood, in the dream, that “they” were all around, and you had to watch your step, and b e very mindful of your actions, or “they” would fuck you up, somehow.

    I made a lot of friends in the warehouse, found a number of coworkers whom I felt I could trust, and they took care of me, and didn’t blow my covers. On a break, a couple of them told me that they’d been there for a long time, and that if I played my cards right, I would be able to avoid getting caught, and would be able to make a decent living there. They didn’t seem to mind whatever it was that was being manufactured there. They blocked that out. They needed the jobs to make a living to feed their families, their options were limited, and so they made the most of the situation, and looked out for each other.

    I found this hard to accept. I needed to know what was being made in the warehouse, and I decided to pursue this inquiry, while acting like I belonged there, doing my best to fit in. This kept working, though there was peril around each corner. The suspicious “bosses” were everywhere, and I had to make sure they never suspected me of my deceit.
  • In the final scene of this dream, which I had the definite sense would have a sequel, maybe many sequels, I was sitting in a corner lounge area with a fellow with whom I had become friendly, a guy that I trusted, though I didn’t feel a particular “kinship” with. I felt that I was quite different from him, but despite our differences, we had a mutual trust. A very strange looking girl sauntered over to me. She had blonde hair, but a cross between a “biker” look, and a “skateboarder” look, with tattoos on her calves, forearms, and in the small of her back. She was very scantilly clad, with a stunning body, though I was not especially drawn to her, sexually. To be honest, tattoos do nothing for me, in fact, they kind of turn me the fuck off. Hers were no exception.

    But, I was more interested in what she knew, for she gave me a most “knowing” look, and a sly smile, like she had the answers I was seeking throughout the dream. Again, none of this was sexual, in any way, despite her knockout body, most of which was revealed through her practically nonexistent clothing, if you could call it that. Not sexual, but most tempting, filling me with desire, not for her body, but for her knowledge. I needed to know what she knew, and she gave me a look that told me, she would not be “easy” with me, but that she wanted me to pursue her. She was “teasing” me with her eyes, which were far more stunning than her gorgeous but tattooed body.

    I awoke sweating, filled with an aching hunger, and an unquenchable thirst.
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