Dream of: 17 November 1991 "Poluka"

I was in Portsmouth talking with a fellow whom I used to know, but whom I hadn't seen in many years. I recalled that he was from an affluent family and had always dressed in expensive clothes. He began asking me what I used to do for fun when I had been in high school. I told him I would sometimes go to parties; he asked me whose parties I would go to. I couldn't remember exactly, but I thought I had gone to a party at the house of Debi (whom I first encountered in 1964 when we were in the sixth grade together). I also thought about Wood (whom I also first encountered in 1964 when we were in the sixth grade together) and Jeff Hurley (whom I also first encountered in 1964 when we were in the sixth grade together); but I thought the fellow wouldn't know Wood, and I recalled that Hurley had died.

What bothered me about the fellow was that he was probably trying to see if I had been invited to the important parties. I knew I hadn't. After reflecting a short while, I finally decided to tell the fellow just what I thought of him. I told him he should try wearing some clothes from Goodwill. He didn't seem to understand that I was telling him he should try to be more humble.


I was sitting in an auditorium which seemed to be in the high school in Portsmouth. It was crowded with teenagers. In the front of the room, on the stage, a person's name was going to be chosen; the person would fill some kind of position. Three names had been written on different pieces of paper, and two were going to be pulled out. The drawing was held, the two names were pulled out, and the assembly began to disburse. I specifically noticed that no one had applauded when the names had been pulled; was it because no one knew the persons, or simply because no one liked the people whose names had been drawn?


I was on a tour bus with approximately 25 other people who were probably in their 20s. As the bus traveled up a mountain, and I looked out over the resplendent view around me; I almost felt like crying at the beauty of it all. Although I thought we were in Ohio, it seemed as if we were in a small island near Australia and that the name of the island was Poluka. I thought I might like to move there to practice law. I could practice bankruptcy law there. However, I would have to learn a lot of state law two; learning new law dampened my desire. What I really wanted to do was to quit practicing law and simply travel around.

I began noticing many unusual holes in the countryside around us. Finally, a man said that this was a test range for the military and that the holes were craters from bombs.

When we reached the top, I saw a cemetery with numerous gravestones on it. I thought it was probably for military personnel. There was a spectacular view, and I would have liked to have stopped, but the driver began heading back down. I vividly began imagining what it would be like if the bus were to careen off the edge of the road and fly through the air to the depths below. How terrifying those last few minutes would be.

We continued down the road and before we reached the bottom, the driver let everyone out; we followed a path along the road, while the driver continued on in the bus. As we walked, I noticed through the trees that a police car had pulled over on the road up ahead, and it looked as if he was waiting for us. I thought it might not be permissible for us to be walking around there, and that he was going to tell us.

When we caught up with the bus again, I looked at the front, which looked more like a building than a bus. There was a seat for the driver, and in front of him on the outside was a small fan connected to an air conditioning unit. Someone flipped it on and I was surprised by the coldness of the air blown from it. But I wondered if it would not dissipate since it was outside, before reaching the driver.


The other tour members and I were sitting in a lounge area, apparently of a lodge. Sitting across from me was an attractive black-haired woman who apparently had learned that I had been in prison in Iran. She looked at me and repeated a couple times that I was a fighter. I didn't really feel like a fighter, but I didn't correct her.

We were waiting to be served a meal, and after 45 minutes I became impatient and walked into the dining area, where I saw a roomful of elderly people eating. The man in charge walked up and I told him that our group was waiting to eat. He checked and said that there must be a mistake, that our group wasn't scheduled to eat and that the dining area was already full.

I immediately began to suspect that the tour guide had defrauded us and then disappeared. I aggressively told the man in charge that if we weren't fed, we would report this and it would give bad publicity to his establishment. I went out and told the others s what had happened. I also said that the food they were serving was much better today that food we had eaten in the same place the day before. They were having lobsters at the present and I even felt like going back in and snatching one, but since I thought that would probably be improper, I refrained.

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