summon whoever is good, and if they don't exist imagine them
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first dream -- forgottenIn the second dream, I am at work at the hospital. But the buildings are greatly altered, as well as my duties as a lab tech. When we are on duty, we are strangely allowed to go on the internet in a little office that is at the other end of the hospital, near its main entrance. Security for the hospital is greatly increased -- we have to show ID's and be frisked to get through the main entrance. I am wearing my turquoise scrub shirt, and am working diligently on some all-consuming hobby on the computer (I think it might have had something to do with genealogy, but in real life that's my brother's hobby, not mine). Finally, I realize I've been in the little office for too long, and it's someone else's turn to spend time up there. I go back to the lab, and find that I've been away SO long that the next shift has already started.
third dream -- I'm disabled mentally, and am wandering around the grounds of the hospital I used to work at (false memory: this was a very altered version of that hospital, and barely recognizable as such). I finally come to consciousness completely on the green of an indoor golf hole. The fairway is indoors, too, and it follows downwards the slope of the hill it's built on. I'm lying in a crumpled heap as if I've been that way for some time. I see that I'm holding a paper that has a drawing on it that I remember doing right before I began wandering (I didn't remember doing the drawing, though, after I woke up). There are old men waiting for me to move so that they can take their shots off of the tee, far above. I find a door and crawl out onto the grassy hillside.
After crawling for a ways, two nurses find me. They try to ask me who I am -- I embarrassed to have to tell them that I was just hired at the hospital, but now it appears I'm very sick. They get help and I'm carried into the hospital on a stretcher.
Now something is already starting to nag at the corners of my mind. Not only is the indoor golf hole weird and clearly a clue to me that this is a dream, but the state of being mentally disabled is a clue to me as well -- that I am stuck between dream states (OBE and a regular dream). But I'm not quite ready to believe all that. I began observing things VERY carefully for dream flaws.
But all I have to watch is the small view I'm getting of the old hospital's hallway ceilings, for they now have a blanket wrapped up around me, right up to my face. They bring me to an old room, where there is another patient sitting up in a chair. It's a young woman. I don't pay much attention to her as they also seat me in a chair, for I'm still not feeling so well.
As soon as they leave us by ourselves, I promptly fall out of the chair and begin crawling again. I get out of the room, and somehow end up near train tracks that come right up to a room that has an open-air side. There are empty boxcars there, and I somehow hoist myself up and into one. It immediately takes off at a blinding speed.
As we leave the hospital, I try to read the signs on the outsides of its various structures. I think I notice some inconsistencies (I couldn't remember what these were after I woke up). This IS a dream! I think triumphantly to myself. That explains the disabled state of mind, the strange golf hole, etc.
However, what I fail to realize is that the dream is starting to fall apart...and this is still yet another clue for me (the third one of the three types that I usually get in a dream). It is simply that when the dream starts to deteriorate visually and otherwise, something far more profound and perhaps supernatural is about to occur.
Right on cue, the boxcar I'm in morphs into a room with sand on a brightly colored floor. I begin floating above it in slow circles, while my index finger traces a line in the sand. This goes on for a while until my finger gets sore. I look at it, and it's red.
Finally, I get it. The dream wants to stop providing amazing special effects and beautiful sets so that it can move onto something more important. As soon as I think this, the whole dream changes dramatically.
I go into a room where there are a collection of people. Their faces are a little shaky, but I take that to mean the dream is just not bothering to portray them perfectly anymore. I wonder who they are, but do not have much time to think about it. For I am swept away into still yet another room.
Scene after scene goes by (I could not remember what all of these were after I woke up). There is a theme that is continued through all of them that I begin to sense -- that this dream does not have any good, benevolent power behind it, directing it. In fact, all I feel that it is bringing my way is nonsense! This causes me to have a feeling of despair. How can any good come of this -- shouldn't dreams be our gateway to the paranormal? And shouldn't it be a kinder, gentler and WISER paranormal?
(I really wished I hadn't forgotten all the scenes that went by after I woke up -- but I kept going back and forth between sleep and waking. I would just lie there when I woke up, and go back into the dream. I knew perfectly well that this would make me forget large parts of the dream, but I wanted to resolve the aforementioned problem VERY BADLY).
I'm in an altered version of the room I was in earlier, with the sand on the floor. Once again I'm floating above it and tracing out patterns. But I'm feeling a little discouraged, thinking, Is this all there is to life and dreaming? Is it just a big dead end? I know my dream time is about done, for I have gone back and forth between sleeping and waking about five times now.
However, I get another idea. While I did all this thinking, the room morphed yet again -- I am now back in a train boxcar, and there is a tiny arched window on the door on the side. It is kind of dark in there. I cause a flame to flicker to life on the tip of my index finger, and I hold it up to the little window.
My idea is to summon whoever is good to come to my aid in my dreams. And, if there is no such thing as such a being...to imagine one into existence.
I then go about waking up. I stretch one leg, and then the other. I raise myself up one arm. But something still isn't right. I'm in my room, but it looks funny...and my body feels too light.
I do the time-honored way of waking up...I shake my head back and forth. And this time I wake up for real.
