Dream of: 21 October 1999 (2) "Traumdeutung"

My wife Carolina and I had gone to a rock concert being held on an outside stage. Everybody was seated on the ground, and Carolina and I were in the front row, right in the middle, in an excellent location. Just before the music began, a pile of books was placed on the stage, obviously to be passed out to the audience. There must have been 15-20 different books, with multiple copies of each. I quickly saw the one I would like to have: a thick paperback copy of Sigmund Freud's Traumdeutung.

I immediately recognized the book because it was exactly like a copy which I had, in the original German language, with a blue and white cover. However, I knew that the copies on the stage were newer editions, and that a few extra pages had been added to the end of the book, pages which I had never seen. Thus I was definitely motivated to obtain a copy.

A man stood up on the stage and told the audience to make a path down the middle of the people so he could walk there. In a flash a large path was created about two meters wide. I was sitting right on the edge of the path, and as the man stepped down into the path and began tossing books into the audience, I hollered out, "Freud! Freud!" When I saw a copy of the Traumdeutung being thrown in my direction, I lunged toward it, like someone sitting in the stands of a baseball park trying to catch a fowl ball. To my surprise, I managed to grab the book. I held the book greedily in my hands and flipped to the last page to make sure the extra pages were there. They were! I was so happy to have the book.

When the dispersion of the books was finished, people settled down and the music finally began. To me, something seemed missing, and I finally realized what it was: Carolina and I had brought nothing to drink, nor did we have any kind of drugs. I hadn't been to a rock concert in a long time, but I was sure almost everyone there was probably using some kind of drugs. I could see people smoking what appeared to be marijuana, and I just wished I had some.

Since I knew people were much more relaxed there than normal, I simply turned to a fellow sitting behind us and I asked him if he knew where I could buy some pot. He asked me if I only wanted a couple of joints, and I told him yes. He told me to wait a couple minutes and he would get them for me. I turned back around toward the stage, thinking I would probably have to pay about $5 for two joints; or, if necessary, I might even pay more. Satisfied I would soon have some pot, I began focusing on the music.

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