Dream of:24 September 1996 (2) "What Matters Most"
I was in a large factory owned by my father. He had once manufactured cellulose insulation in this factory, but he had converted the factory so that he now used it to manufacture a completely different product. Looking around the factory, I was amazed at the number of gears, and metal chains revolving on the gears, which I saw overhead. I thought it must be terribly complicated to simply keep the factory going without its breaking down.
Inside the factory stretched a short railroad track on which a train traveled, carrying things back and forth. I hoped on a railroad car loaded with supplies being brought into the factory. Bundles of old newspapers were stacked on the car, just like the bundles which used to be shipped into the factory to be chopped up to make the insulation, when the factory used to produce cellulose insulation. The bundles of paper were now used for something different – I was unsure what. I grabbed some of the bundles and flung them off the railroad car. I was high up on the car, and I liked watching where the bundles would land.
Another fellow also on the railroad car with me began talking about how a lot of white smoke was produced by the factory when a certain process was being performed. The fellow said that the smoke was illegal, and the only reason the smoke was allowed was because it blew into an area where no one lived.
When I finally jumped off the car, I saw that the grungy-looking factory workers sitting in a large cafeteria-like area for some kind of special meal. A thousand workers must have been there. I saw my father in a special area of the cafeteria and I thought I would go eat with him. But then I decided that instead I would prefer to go eat with some friends of mine who I knew worked in the factory. I thought my old friends, Walls and Anderson, worked in the factory, and I began walking through the tables, looking for them. But as I passed all the workers, I realized I didn't know anyone here anymore. Finally, however, I thought I saw someone I recognized sitting at a small table, and I walked over and sat down with him. He seemed vaguely like Anderson, but it wasn't quite clear. But then I saw Walls walking toward us. He walked up to my table and asked if he could sit with us. I told him that of course he could.
Walls sat down and began talking about a woman in the cafeteria who was his date for this meal, although she wasn't with him at the moment. He was especially proud that he had been able to find an attractive woman to come here with him. His family members hadn't thought he would be able to find someone so attractive. I sardonically told Walls that what matters most was being able to impress people.
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