+- National Dream Center (https://nationaldreamcenter.com/forum18)
+-- Forum: NDC's Core Content (https://nationaldreamcenter.com/forum18/forumdisplay.php?fid=46)
+--- Forum: Public Dreams (https://nationaldreamcenter.com/forum18/forumdisplay.php?fid=34)
+---- Forum: Old DreamBase (Imported) (https://nationaldreamcenter.com/forum18/forumdisplay.php?fid=49)
+---- Thread: Mind Control (/showthread.php?tid=15668)
Mind Control - Tessie - 05-21-2014
I attend an outdoor party with my brother on some guy's farm property. The party's host is the owner of a very successful car dealership. The dealership is largely successful due to the efforts of one salesman, the former President/CEO of a large US auto manufacturer. I do not recall the gentleman's name. The party's host is an All-American looking guy, blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, greying hair, maybe in his fifties, nice smile, genuine manners. His right hand is missing all of its fingers and in place of where the ring and pinkie fingers would be is a rounded nub. I shake his hand and thank him for inviting us to his party. In walking around the party, I notice brass parts on the ground underneath a large tree. Some parts are wrapped in plastic and are rectangular with raised two raised notches in the center one above the other, while others parts are unwrapped and resemble larger alligator clamps. I pick up several of both. A smaller man (and for me at 5'4"that's saying something) who is an employee of the party's host walks by saying that my rectangular part is just what he is looking for. I give the ones I have to him as I didn't need them, I also give him the alligator clamps and tell him where he can find more. It is getting late, so I search for my brother so we can leave. He is playing bass guitar with a band at the party which there to entertain. I give him the high sign to leave. He ignores me. After a little more socializing, I again search for my brother because it's getting late and find him still playing bass, this time alone. I am finally able to get him out of the party. I have my mother's old 1988 blue Pontiac Grand Prix and my brother and I dispute over who should drive. I'm not sure if he has been drinking and I don't drink and drive. So we stop inside a white farm house. I'm upstairs with my brother in the bathroom trying to wash my mouth out with liquid soap because I don't want to smell like beer at my mom's house. It's 1:15 am and I'm sure she's going to be pissed because we're coming home so late. My brother cautions me against using the liquid soap because it has a red dye in it and it will turn my aura red, which would make me seem angry. And we had to face Mom. I try to scrub the liquid soap out of my mouth. It froths and is difficult to remove. I finally glance up and look out the upstairs window and see my brother has stolen a truck. The truck has a cab, like any over-the-road truck, but it's hauling a flatbed with red wooden slats on each side, like those on radio flyer wagons when I was a kid. He's weaving down the road, at night, like he's drunk, and he slams into the side of semi-trailer. My brother's truck jackknifes across both lanes of the road. Witnesses start pouring out. There are red flares and lights on the road, which seems wet, as if it has just rained. I find my brother who is just fine and asked him what the hell he thought he was doing stealing a truck and driving. He replies that it was like his mind went blank and he wasn't in control. The driver of the other truck he hit said it felt the same way for him, like there was something wrong with that spot on the road and it made a person no longer in control.