As I was standing in the kitchen of a house where six or seven people lived, I found a $100 bill and a $20 bill lying on the kitchen cabinet. Turning to a woman also in the room, I asked her if she knew anything about the money. She said she didn't, but she seemed concerned that I would be asking. Apparently she thought I was trying to claim the money for myself, but that wasn't my intention at all: I was simply trying to discover who owned the money.
I walked out of the kitchen, intending to ask some of the other people in the house about the money. When the woman also left the kitchen, I suspected that she intended to hurry to the others and inform them of the money so that one of them could claim that he or she had lost it. But I found the others first, and when I asked them about the money, they admitted that they hadn't lost any. As I tried to decide what to do about the money, I pulled a $1 bill out of my pocket, and all the people gathered around me.
Noticing thatmy brother Chris was also in the room with us, I walked over to him, sat down next to him, and whispered into his ear, "Was that your money?"
I was surprised when Chris acknowledged that the money belonged to him. He then added, "There's something I want you to do. I don't want you to tell anybody that it's mine."
He was asking a lot of me; it would be difficult to do as he wished. Nevertheless I promised Chris that I would keep his secret. I perceived that Chris was testing me. Not revealing that the money belonged to Chris would be especially difficult because everyone else would think I was keeping the money for myself. No one would know that I was guarding the money because I intended to return the money to Chris, its rightful owner. However, since Chris didn't want me to tell anyone that the money belonged to him, I would comply.
Chris explained to me that he wanted me to do this because he was afraid that he wasn't going to be with me much longer. In other words, he was telling me that he was going to die. The date of his death was even already scribbled on something, and when I saw the date, I knew that Chris would disappear fairly soon. I squeezed him in my arms and held him tight. But when he whispered something in my ear, I straightened back up. I almost felt like crying, but I realized crying was useless and I didn't have time for such nonsense anyway. Nevertheless I was distraught about the prospect of losing Chris.
I was watching a scene from afar. Some of the same people who had been concerned about the money were present. Other people were also in the picture – ten or fifteen altogether – all of whom seemed to be Zen Buddhists. They had invited a man (probably in his late 30s) to visit them. The man, apparently a zen master, was also in the room and was dressed in a white robe. Although the others were preparing to engage in some kind of activity, the zen master remained somewhat aloof and he wasn't going to take part. Instead he retreated to an upstairs room where he was staying in the building.
For some reason, all the people became angry at the zen master and one obese fellow began shouting abusive invectives at the room of the master. The master stepped out of his room onto a balcony where everyone could see him, and called down to the obese fellow, ordering him to shut up. At that point it was abundantly clear that the zen master had considerable control over the others.
The zen master had come downstairs to talk to the others, who were eating. The curious detail of the room was a large vase which stood as tall as a man. Apparently someone lived inside the vase, even eating meals inside it. One fellow, who reminded me of myself, stood beside the vase, looking it over. Although the fellow was a member of this group, he was thinking of leaving. Perhaps he would join some Tibetan Buddhists. The practice of zen simply appeared to be too difficult for him; he just couldn't grasp onto the belief system.
The fellow who reminded me of myself was sitting in the front passenger seat of a car being driven by the zen master. Some other people also riding in the car had been eating some rice off white plates. Suddenly the zen master threw some of the dirty plates smack into the lap of the fellow who reminded me of myself. The fellow instantly responded, "I'm not going to clean these."
Even though the fellow realized it wouldn't take him long to wash the plates, he was determined not to have anything to do with them. The fellow threw the plates into the middle of the seat where some other plates were already piling up, probably 25-30 plates altogether. He said, "I'm not even supposed to be here. What am I doing here? I must be dreaming."
The fellow wondered if he could possibly be lying in bed in his room, dreaming everything which was taking place. He simply couldn't understand what he would be doing in the car with the zen master and the others. He wanted to escape, and even though the car was speeding down the road, he thought he might just jump out. But when he opened the door, the zen master seized him with both hands (even though the zen master was using his hands to steer). The fellow abruptly realized he wasn't going to be able to free himself from the powerful grip of the zen master. He was simply going to have to ride it out.
All the while, as I watched the scene from afar, the fellow continued to remind me of myself.
When the fellow was finally let out of the car, he was unsure where he was. Noticing some newspaper machines nearby, he looked on the front page of one of the newspapers and saw an article about a city called Carribes in Mexico. The fellow read that the city had been founded by Americans, and only Americans lived there. The article discussed the ingenuity of the Americans residing in the city. Also on the front page was a picture of the city, which appeared to be on the sea shore. Most of the homes were constructed of brown adobe. Although the city was attractive, I thought it was probably an expensive place to live.
More and more, I seemed to be the fellow. Although unsure where I was, I thought I might be in the very community pictured in the newspaper. I began walking around the area until I spotted a Mexican restaurant. I entered, but since I wasn't hungry, I only stayed a short while before walking back out into the parking lot.
As I stood in the parking lot, I noticed four black men stationed five or six meters from me, each in a different direction from me, like the points on a compass. They were dressed in black and were probably in their mid 20s. They seemed to be performing an interesting dance, while at the same time they made clicking sounds with their teeth. Although intrigued by their dance, I felt threatened by the men and thought I should return to the restaurant for safety.
I also began to realize that I must have taken some LSD. Already beginning to hallucinate, I became particularly interested in the green vegetation surrounding me. However I was troubled that I would have taken a hallucinogenic drug. I suddenly began thinking about God, and realized that by taking the drug, I might have injured my relationship with God. All my other abilities might also have been damaged.
I continued to watch myself, as if from afar, as I sat down and looked around. Clearly I was unhappy that I had taken the hallucinogen. But now I would simply have to endure. There was nothing else I could do.
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