Dream of: 17 April 1986 "Protecting Karl Marx"
It was Christmas vacation during a time when I was in school. I went to a movie theater where an animated cartoon-like movie was playing. Wanting to sit in an aisle seat, I walked down to the second row of seats and sat down. The screen was circular and the seats were also arranged in a circular pattern.
I spoke to two fellows I knew sitting in the front row directly in front of me. I had met them once before at a movie and I commented to them that it looked as if all we did was go to the movies.
The next thing I knew I and about 15 others had all been rounded up and herded into a room by some communists. I also saw a man sitting down in the room who I realized was Karl Marx – although he didn't look like Karl Marx. Another man was standing and giving Marx a message. Marx in turn was typing on some kind of a machine sending the message to someone.
I realized Marx was working for the military which was opposed to the communists here and which was on our side. The message Marx was sending was to our people and it was important that he have a little more time to continue sending the message. Our allies were getting ready to attack the communists and it was important that we somehow stall the communists for a while. The only way I knew to accomplish that was to cause some kind of commotion. But many guards were standing around with Uzzi-type machine gun. If we caused any disturbance we would probably be shot.
Nevertheless, another fellow and I stood up in front of Karl Marx and began making a commotion. We wanted to stand in front of Marx to be sure he wasn't hit by any gunfire and would be able to finish sending the message. The guards began firing the machine guns at us. I knew I was going to die but I was unafraid because I thought I was dying for a good cause. I was hit by a shot. But I was still able to stand. I was hit again and fell over onto the floor. I knew I was going to die right here on the spot but I was unconcerned because I knew I had done the right thing.
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