Dream of: 10 May 2002 (2) "Visiting The White House"

I was visiting my father, Bill Clinton, in the oval office of the White House. The room was quite small – perhaps only three meters in diameter. Clinton was probably in his mid 40s, while I was probably in my mid 20s. This was the first time I had visited him here, even though he had been president for quite some time. He was friendly and seemed glad to see me, although he wasn't overly effusive. He was sitting at a desk while I sat down on a small bed covered by a white sheet. The bed wasn't comfortable – it sagged in the middle and was infirm. I suggested to Clinton that he might think about buying a firmer mattress, that I had recently bought a firmer mattress for a bed in my home and that I was quite pleased with it.

I stayed for several hours; Clinton and I had a long discussion. He didn't seem in any hurry for me to leave; but finally I rose and walked out into the next room. This area seemed like a mall; people were bustling about; tables and chairs were set up for fast-food restaurants. Many attractive women scurried around; of course I figured the most attractive women would come to some place like the White House. I wondered how these women treat me if they knew I was the son of the president, but no one seemed to know because Clinton and I didn't have the same last names. I couldn't quite account for this; after all, he was my natural father. It seemed that he and my mother might have separated when I had been young and I had been raised by my mother


I was in an upstairs bedroom of the White House. It was my mother's bedroom. Almost everything seemed to be white; a large bed was decked with a white spread, but the bed only appeared to have been brought in temporarily. It appeared that the headboard was only cardboard, although attractively made. I wanted to take a nap but since I didn't want to mess up the bed, I lay down on the floor on my back. As I tried to sleep, I could hear my mother coming up the stairs talking to someone. She would probably soon open the bedroom door and find me lying there. She wouldn't mind.


I was outside in the lawn of the White House. Tourists were walking around here and there. They had all had to pay an admission price to enter, but since I was the son of the president, I had been able to enter free. The White House sat atop a hill overlooking the town around it. Most strange were the number of factories with tall smoke stacks spewing dense smoke into the air. Amazing that this would be allowed right here next to the White House. How many presidents over the years had looked out on this pollution and not done anything about it?

I walked over to a black metal fence which surrounded the yard. Just outside the fence was a steep bank; the fence was necessary to keep people from falling over the edge. I grabbed the fence and shook it. It wasn't firm. It might even fall over the edge if someone were to lean on it. The fence should definitely be repaired.

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