Dream of: 11 July 2001 "Seeing The Light"

I was on top of a high building in the downtown area of a city. I was watching a most intriguing site: a reporter – a man probably in his mid 40s, dressed in a gray suit – was hanging by his fingertips over the edge of the building. He changed his position several times, each time placing himself in an extremely dangerous position, so that if he made even the slightest miscalculation he would certainly fall to his death. I was standing safely on the top of the building, thinking I certainly wouldn't have the nerve to do what this man was doing. I understood he was conducting an exposť of some government workers who were supposed to be working on the building, but who had complained the work was too dangerous. The reporter was attempting to show it was possible to work at these heights.

As I watched, I became aware of a door on the roof, and I looked through the glass to see what was inside. What I saw stupefied me: four or five beds were in the room and in each bed lay a grotesquely deformed person. One person had four arms, another four legs; and one body had two heads. All the poor creatures looked as if they were semi-conscious; they looked as if they had been lying here for years. I immediately concluded that this was some kind of government institute where this type of people was warehoused and that no one from the outside was allowed to see them. I felt so sorry for them; they were people, too. Nobody should have to live like that, no matter how deformed they were; I wanted to do something to help them.

I managed to work my way inside. My astonishment increased as I came upon rooms full of the deformed people. On one bed I found people who were nothing but heads; about 10 heads were on one bed, all alive. I then came across four heads on the floor. I stopped and spoke to them. All of them answered at once, in a screeching sound which sounded like some kind of wild animals. I had to cover my ears, the sound was so unpleasant. Finally, however, one of the heads began speaking; but I couldn't really understood what it said. At least I noted that they didn't seem to be in pain. I also noticed the attendants in the rooms weren't bothering me, and even seemed concerned for the welfare of the deformed people.

I continued on until I came to some deformed children also on the floor. I was especially concerned about the children being locked away here. I wondered if perhaps some of the children were not really mentally impaired and might have been stuck here by mistake. I asked the children if they had ever been outside, if they had ever seen the light. They responded, but I could hardly understand them; I inferred, however, that they had never been outside. This seemed unforgivable to me. I wanted to do something to help them at least be able to go outside sometimes.

Suddenly a man wearing a microphone appeared. He came straight to me and I knew I must leave. I followed him to a door which led back to the roof. Once I was on the roof, I was met by a young man in a suit whom I recognized as the director of the FBI He didn't seem angry; he just wanted me to get out of here. No one was supposed to know about this place.

I immediately told him I had seen the heads. He seemed shocked, as if he had heard rumors about the heads, but had never seen them himself. I told him about the children who had never seen the light. I told him I wanted to help them get out of there so they could see the light. But I wanted him to understand I wasn't attacking the place; I just wanted to help. I told him the place had three positive aspects: first, it was clean inside; second, none of the people were being mistreated; and, third, the attendants working there seemed to genuinely care about the people in their care. I was trying to emphasize that I understood the problems involved, and I simply wanted to help. The director seemed concerned; he seemed to vacillate between making me leave or letting me stay.

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