Chat
10-13-2014, 01:23 PM
I'm in a basball stadium, but instead of a field the stadium embraces a bay with a marina crowded with personal (not commercial) boats of all sizes. Large luxurious yachts to rowboats, all intermingled. The bay opens to the ocean on the left. The stadium is filled to capacity with young, old, rich poor, well, infirm, family groups, singles, every nationality and religion, all intermingled. Daytime, weather is calm with scattered gray clouds. There are no people on any of the boats.
There is a sense of something important. A voice arises from the down among the boats yet I can't see who is speaking, "You are here to learn." A figure to my right leans over to me me and says, "Listen carefully, this is important stuff." What's odd about the figure's voice is that it seemed to be both man and woman at the same time. I keep my eyes on the marina and nod. Then there's a period of instruction. A whole list of "dos and don'ts". I understand, yet don't hear the specifics. I know without hearing. The information makes me very uncomfortable. As I look around people are in various levels of attention to what is being said. Then the voice from the marina says, "Write down the accident ." Accident , singular. Not accidents, plural. I think, "What's he talking about? What accident? A car accident, fall, smash my thumb with a hammer? What?" I don't know what to write. I also think, "What business is it of his (the voice) anyway?" I don't write down anything.
I wake up and look at the clock. 2:49 AM MST. Thirsty, I have a glass of water and went back to sleep.
Wham! I'm right back into the dream. I enter the stadium, but now only 5%-10% of the people and boats are present, but still in the same proportions. Yachts and rowboats, rich and poor, old and young, etc. But there are partial famalies where before they were complete. Children without parents, parents without children, a toddler alone. It's an emotionally heavy and scary environment. Why would parents leave children behind? Why would children leave, but not their parents. I make my way back to my seat, scanning the marina and stadium. I sit down and fell the prescence of the person who told to listen carefully. Whle looking out over the stadium and marina I ask, "Where did all the people go?" The figure says, "The Collector came." For the first time I turn to the figure next to me. He/she is enveloped in a gray cloud. I cannot determine what he/she looks like. I fear I was left behind and but then think maybe not being collected is a good thing. I don't now. In either case it's scary and sad. There's no sense the collection was some sort of joyous rapture event. Not at all.
There is a sense of something important. A voice arises from the down among the boats yet I can't see who is speaking, "You are here to learn." A figure to my right leans over to me me and says, "Listen carefully, this is important stuff." What's odd about the figure's voice is that it seemed to be both man and woman at the same time. I keep my eyes on the marina and nod. Then there's a period of instruction. A whole list of "dos and don'ts". I understand, yet don't hear the specifics. I know without hearing. The information makes me very uncomfortable. As I look around people are in various levels of attention to what is being said. Then the voice from the marina says, "Write down the accident ." Accident , singular. Not accidents, plural. I think, "What's he talking about? What accident? A car accident, fall, smash my thumb with a hammer? What?" I don't know what to write. I also think, "What business is it of his (the voice) anyway?" I don't write down anything.
I wake up and look at the clock. 2:49 AM MST. Thirsty, I have a glass of water and went back to sleep.
Wham! I'm right back into the dream. I enter the stadium, but now only 5%-10% of the people and boats are present, but still in the same proportions. Yachts and rowboats, rich and poor, old and young, etc. But there are partial famalies where before they were complete. Children without parents, parents without children, a toddler alone. It's an emotionally heavy and scary environment. Why would parents leave children behind? Why would children leave, but not their parents. I make my way back to my seat, scanning the marina and stadium. I sit down and fell the prescence of the person who told to listen carefully. Whle looking out over the stadium and marina I ask, "Where did all the people go?" The figure says, "The Collector came." For the first time I turn to the figure next to me. He/she is enveloped in a gray cloud. I cannot determine what he/she looks like. I fear I was left behind and but then think maybe not being collected is a good thing. I don't now. In either case it's scary and sad. There's no sense the collection was some sort of joyous rapture event. Not at all.