Dream of: 30 July 1987 "Professional Dream Writer"

who one is is

a result of what one does

with one's fleeting life

Having left the Gallia County Farm (my grandparents' 386 acre farm in Gallia County, Ohio), I was now standing beside some railroad tracks and packing some of my clothes into a suitcase. Preparing to depart on a long journey, I suddenly realized that although I had a suitcase with some towels and shirts in it, I did not have my backpack with me. I thought my backpack might be back at the Farm and I considered going back to get it since I would have preferred to have had the backpack instead of a suitcase. As I thought over the situation, I sat down beside the tracks.

When a fellow approached me, I stood up. I was unsure, but I thought he might be someone who worked for the railroad. I was a little worried because I was rather far from anyone out here. When he walked up and asked me if I could loan him some money, I answered, "We all need our money."

I backed away from him and he walked on. After he had gone a few steps away from me I hollered out, "Well, where you going?"

Since I did not particularly want to travel alone, I was considering the possibility that he and I might travel together. He said he was just going across town (apparently we were on the outskirts of a small town). Since he was only going a short ways, I decided it was best if he just went on alone.

When I sat back down on the railroad tracks, a small blonde girl walked up. Behind her was was my high school girlfriend, Birdie. They both walked up to me and I was happy to see them. I immediately recognized that the little girl was Birdie's daughter, Brandi, and that Brandi was possibly my own daughter. After Birdie and I began talking, I told her that I had left Texas, but that I now would like to return. I told her I had been on a long journey and had traveled in China, India and Russia. I thought about telling her I had learned Chinese, Russian and Sanskrit.

I felt rather exhausted from having traveled so much, as if I would just like to settle down in one place for a while and try to regroup myself. I was thinking of returning to Texas to do just that, but it seemed I still had some traveling to do yet. I was not quite sure if I might actually be on my way to Texas right at the moment.

It seemed as if Birdie might want to go along with me. I mentioned to her that my backpack was back at the Farmhouse and that I might need to return for it. I asked her if she could watch the things I had there with me while I returned to get the backpack.

I ended up walking into a house and into a room while carrying Brandi with me. She looked as if she were 8-9 years old, but I thought she was older than that, perhaps 13-14 years old. My family was going to have a meal together in the house and I was going to surprise everyone by bringing Brandi. When I encountered my mother in the hall, she did not know who Brandi was.

Brandi began sucking on my neck, right on my Adam's apple. I pulled her away and wondered if someone had been teaching her bad habits, such as giving hickeys.

I looked in a closet for a shirt, found several, but none was mine. I was unsure what kind of shirt I was going to wear to the meal.

In the dining room was a dining table which had a place for one person at each end and three people on each side. Ronald Reagan (wearing a black suit) was seated at one end of the table.

Birdie came walking down the stairs, unaware that Reagan was going to be at the meal. She was dressed casually, wearing a black sweater (with white designs) which belonged to me. She was excited by Reagan's presence.

We all sat down at the table. I was sitting on the side to Reagan's immediate right, while my brother Chris (who died of muscular dystrophy at the age of 16 in 1974) was sitting to my right. Birdie, Brandi, my father and some other members of my family were also at the table. I had not seen Chris for awhile and I was happy to see him there. I put my right arm around him and hugged him, wanting to be as close to him as I could. He seemed somewhat sad and I tried to cheer him up.

I wondered if Reagan was going to be asking me what I did for a living. I knew I was a lawyer, but I did not feel like a lawyer. I thought that telling him that I was a professional dream writer would be a bit difficult, but that was what I was, so if he asked, I would probably tell him that.

When I finally began looking around the table I became quite emotional and began crying. Crying seemed strange to me, because I had not cried in such a long time, but crying in front of everyone felt good. I was glad to see everyone there at the table even though I was not accustomed to it.

It seemed to me that someone was missing, and it occurred to me that Louise (my ex-wife) was not at the table. I thought she should have been there, but then I thought, "Well she was just a fleeting part of my life and apparently this was not the proper place for her to be."

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