Dream of:23 August 1999 "People Watching Me"
I was standing in a field, which also seemed like the inside of a room. I was under the impression that I was somewhere in Gallipolis, where I had recently come to live. My grandmother Mabel was standing off to one side, watching me.
I was preoccupied with an Hispanic fellow who had been in the field/room with me, bothering me. As soon as he departed, I got on a phone and called the police. When I hung up, I noticed the Hispanic fellow had abandoned a bowl filled with something which looked like tuna; I would be able to give this bowl to the police as evidence against the fellow.
Suddenly, Vernon, dressed in a black suit, came bursting in. I wasn't happy to see Vernon, and I immediately told him the police were coming, that he couldn't stay there. I even told him I would report him to the police if he didn't leave. But Vernon paid no attention to me. Instead, he sat down on the ground and began demonstrating some hatha yoga positions; he ended up sitting in a lotus meditative position. I concluded that Vernon went from place to place, trying to teach yoga to people. I was amazed: Vernon was hardly the person who would be qualified to teach yoga. I finally walked up to him and told him that nobody here wanted him to be here, but he paid no attention to me and he continued sitting. At least, I reflected, he seemed somewhat friendly, and changing my tact somewhat, I asked, "How's Louise?"
He didn't answer; he seemed completely engrossed in concentrating on his yoga positions. I spoke again, asking if he knew the Hispanic fellow with whom I had been talking earlier; I was under the impression that the Hispanic fellow used to work as a paralegal for Vernon. Vernon again showed no inclination to answer me, and I had the impression that he didn't remember the Hispanic fellow. I figured Vernon rarely paid any attention to anyone who worked for him.
Finally, Vernon stood up in front of me. I was surprised by how tall he was – a good 60 centimeters taller than I. I had never realized he was so tall. He stood in front of me for a few moments, turned and walked away.
As he was leaving, I noticed a small black sign, with black letters, sticking up out of the ground. The sign, which seemed to be written in French, appeared to be the announcement for a rally to take place here in the field.
Suddenly, from one side of the field, a group of men came marching toward me. I immediately concluded these were the people who would be holding the rally, and I had the distinct impression that this was some kind of French political group. I was immediately interested, thinking that since I had recently moved to Gallipolis, I might want to become involved with a political group here, especially a French group. Obviously the members of the group were local people, many dressed like farmers.
After the group had marched past me, a fellow (about 20 years old) followed, and headed toward me. As he approached, I thought he was going to ask me to join the group. But instead of stopping, he walked past me without saying a word. As he passed, I noticed he had dropped something. I walked over to the object he had dropped, picked it up, and saw that it was a white tablet, some sort of drug. When I saw the letters "SP" stamped onto the face of the tab, I concluded that this was a Quaalude, which I thought of as a "soper." With the tablet in hand, I ran after the fellow.
I quickly caught the fellow, who had stepped into an alley which abutted the field. Now I could see him more clearly: he had long hair, and reminded me of someone I might have known back in the early 1970s. Almost immediately I concluded he was a drug dealer. Once I had his attention, I asked him if the white tablet was a soper. He answered in a rambling fashion, saying something about the sexual benefits of the drug, how that a man who took the drug could stay hard for hours. Since I was aware of the aphrodisiac properties of Quaaludes, I concluded this must indeed be a Quaalude.
I was rather self-conscious as I stood talking to the drug dealer; I knew respectable people were still in the area, possibly watching me, and I didn't want them to associate me with this fellow. I myself didn't look bad; I was well-dressed, although my hair was a bit long. But even though I didn't want to be seen with this fellow, I saw an opportunity here perhaps he could supply me with some drugs. In particular, I would very much like to acquire some LSD. Sensing my chance, I asked the fellow if he knew where I might buy some acid.
The fellow seemed to want to have nothing else to do with me, and without further ceremony, he turned and walked away. Only then did I notice a couple other fellows who had been standing with the drug dealer. They were both probably in their late teens, and I had the impression that all three were part of the same gang. Since they seemed more willing to talk, I asked them if there was any good acid available. One replied that none was available at the moment; but I had the impression these fellows definitely were knowledgeable about the availability of acid, and that if some acid came on the market, they would know about it. I should definitely find out where I could later locate them. I thought to myself that I hadn't taken acid in a very long time, but I definitely wanted to do it again. If I had some, I might even take it today.
One fellow then pulled out a baggie of marijuana and rolled up a gigantic joint, about two centimeters thick. The guy was obviously already quite intoxicated, and I definitely didn't want to stand out there in the open and smoke grass with him. But I wouldn't mind having some grass for myself for later.
I asked the fellow if he could sell me some pot, perhaps $10 worth. He didn't answer. Instead, he threw his joint down on a counter, and watched it roll off to the ground, where it fell apart. I walked over to the joint and began scrapping up the loose marijuana which had fallen out. There were seeds the size of peas, and grass which looked like live ivy leaves. I looked around for some kind of container to put the grass in, still conscious that people in the field/room might be watching me.
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