National Dream Center

Full Version: Men in black and red
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21 May 2016
No intention set

Don't remember details; mostly jumbled scenes but a few scenes jump out of the stew.

A sense of traveling about, being in different areas, different terrains and different locals. People getting on a train. Many are wearing sports jerseys. I recognize Steelers' jerseys but there are other team jerseys, too. Someone sees a woman in a white jersey with red and blue trim and yells out, It's that woman who bitched about-- (missed the last part). The woman starts yelling back, arguing with people as they converge on her. I don't see it but I know they're attacking her.

Pulling into a parking lot. Most of the spots near a big windowless building are taken but there are plenty of empty spots farther out. I go to park out there rather than prowl the filled rows, looking and waiting for an available spot.

A feel of stopping somewhere for a while. Not home, but a place I'll be for a while. I talk to a man in the parking lot. He tells me he's a doctor. He's exhausted from taking care of so many people and he's looking forward to resting and sleeping before he goes on shift again.

I approach a hotel front desk. Long line of people at the desk. Chaotic scene, with people talking all at once. A group of men wearing black denim jackets, black jeans, and red turtlenecks are clustered around the desk. There are instrument cases by their feet so I assume they're musicians on tour. One of the men turns around and looks at me. He's wearing a black full-face mask which reminds me of Deadpool's mask. No one else seems to notice the masked man. As I watch, he pulls off the mask. His skin is completely black, obsidian black. Even his eyes are black. While I watch, the black fades and he takes on the features of a regular Caucasian man. He smiles at me and strikes up a conversation. Idle chatter about how he hopes this room has a functional microwave oven so he can nuke his food; the last room he stayed in didn't have a working microwave and he had to eat cold food. A harried woman approaches us and tells me they have only one spare functional microwave oven but it has a tendency to shoot projectiles at people. That's okay, I tell her, as long as it nukes stuff. I look at the man and tell the woman to give the microwave to this guy. He doesn't say anything when I ask him if he's good at knowing when to duck.


Notes:

First night in a while were I slept for more than 3-4 hours.

Everything was so darned disjointed it was hard to get a feel for things. The only thing that really stood out with any clarity was the guy in black and red.
This reminded me of Windy's dream about the child and man with completely black eyes, except in your case everything was black. Did he have whites to his eyes at all?
None at all. I could see when he blinked, the movement of the eyelids, but that was the only difference. In fact, there really wasn't a difference between the mask being on and the mask being removed. His skin was the color of obsidian, complete with the gleam.
Sorry, been off the grid. Did you feel any sense of fear at all with this guy? In your telling you seemed to not be afraid at all, or surprised at the morphing. (Although I sense you've seen quite a bit and wouldn't be too rattled anyway!)
Nope, no surprise or fear, which seemed to bother him more than it did me. If I felt anything, it was "Hunh. That's different."

Some days it takes a lot to get me worked up. Big Grin