Dream of: 05 June 2005 "Honored"

While I was in a classroom (which seemed somewhat like a prison, somewhat like a courtroom), a slim rough-looking fellow sitting next to me began threatening me. He was holding a piece of white metal, about five centimeters long, in the shape of a crescent moon (the edges were sharp, but the points on both ends were rather dull), and he began pressing one of the dull points into the skin of my left arm. He was trying to break my skin, but I pulled away before he punctured me.

Suddenly I realized we actually were in a courtroom and the fellow threatening me was on trial. When the trial abruptly ended, the fellow was found guilty and was sentenced to jail. He muttered to me that he had "already talked with Graff."

I recalled that Graff had been one of my schoolmates in junior high school, but I couldn't remember exactly who he was. However, apparently Graff did not like me and this fellow had enlisted Graff, as well as some other people, to harass me. I figured I would have to be on my guard in the future, lest these people jump me. I retorted to the fellow that he and I could simply go outside and settle this. I thought I could handle him -- he was a rather diminutive little fellow (about 30 years old). He didn't frighten me.

He didn't accept my offer. Instead, he rose and walked out of the room, leaving the piece of metal behind. Thinking he had forgotten the metal piece, I picked it up and stuck it in my pocket. I figured I would use it if I were attacked later.

I also walked out. The room was on an upper story, about the fifth floor, so I walked down some stairs to the next floor. I intended to go all the way to the bottom floor, but I was a trifle tired. It was around noon, and I thought I might go back to my room and take a nap, even though I didn't think I should take a nap right then.

I gave in to the urge to nap and I walked back up the stairs to the floor I had been on. I walked down to the end of the hall where I had a room which I had rented -- like a room in a cheap hotel. I was still thinking of the fellow in the courtroom. In the future, if I heard someone knock at my door, I would have to ask through the door who was there before opening the door.

As I walked down the wide hallway, I passed some chairs, and I noticed a woman sitting in one. I immediately recognized her as Jeannie (a classmate from junior high and high school). She was about 30 years old, had black hair, and was very pretty. Without saying anything to her, I continued toward the door of my room. Up ahead I could see a note sticking in the door. I wondered if Jeannie had put the note on the door. Just as I passed Jeannie, she said, "How's your dreams?"

I turned and walked toward her. I knew exactly what she was talking about. Apparently she had been reading my dreams on my website. I was uncertain how she would react to them, because I knew she had appeared in some of the dreams, and I couldn't remember how I had portrayed her. Thus I was relieved when she continued talking about the dreams and she said, "I was honored."

I was relieved, because I never knew how people were going to react about the dreams. I told her that I had heard from many people who had appeared in my dreams, that the response had been overwhelmingly positive, and that people liked reading the dreams and liked being in them. Only a small number of people didn't like the dreams. I told her I never brought up the dreams myself when I was talking with people, because I didn't know how the person might react.

Apparently I hadn't portrayed Jeannie in a negative light in the dreams in which she had appeared. I warned her, however, that I couldn't predict what the future would hold. I told her that when I met someone whom I hadn't seen in a long time (like I was now meeting her), new dreams about the person might be sparked.

As I continued to look at her, something didn't seem quite right. She looked very pretty, as she had looked years ago when we had attended school together. But I now seemed to recall that someone had recently sent me a picture of Jeannie, and the picture had showed that Jeannie had abjectly deteriorated. In the picture she had looked so much older and heavier -- not at all like her former self. So I felt confused, looking at the attractive woman in front of me, and trying to reconcile this woman with the unflattering picture I had seen.

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