Dream of:24 June 2012 "Immoral Guide"
finding the key to immorality's prison is hard work
I was in a strife-torn Islamic country. The entire country was in turmoil and was about to explode into war (very much like Iran did in 1979). I was presently being transported to a refugee camp. When I arrived, hundreds and thousands of poor-looking brown-skinned people were thronging to get through the steel wire fences into the refugee camp. Most were walking, although some were crowded into buses. I myself was in a car. I had previously passed by this camp, but it had never looked like this. The tense throng of people seemed volatile and ready to ignite at any time. Being a foreigner with different beliefs from these people, I was immediately fearful for life and limb.
Instead of stopping, my car passed slowly through the crowd and exited on the other side until we ended up on a multi-lane highway. When I looked around at the imposing downtown skyline, I realized we were in Dallas, Texas. It seemed natural to be in Dallas, even though I knew we were still in the country which was about to explode. The fellow driving the car apparently lived here. He seemed somewhat like a tour guide and he began describing the Dallas skyline. He said that Dallas should build new buildings downtown to make the skyline more interesting.
I could see that the Dallas skyline hadn't changed for years. I commented that when I had lived in Dallas I had seen many building-cranes erecting the tall skyscrapers downtown. Then suddenly all the cranes had disappeared and the building had stopped. No new cranes had appeared and the downtown skyline didn't change. I thought it a shame that the skyline had remained stagnant.
Also in the car with us was an extremely beautiful blonde. Probably in her early 20s, she was wearing a low-cut top which partially revealed her lusciously perfect breasts. The tour guide made a pass at her. Clearly he wanted to have sex with her.
The girl was in the same situation as I: she needed the tour guide's help. Apparently he was driving us to a place of safety. Although he didn't say it outright, the tour guide seemed to be implying that he would only help the girl if she had sex with him.
I knew a little about this girl. I knew that she used to freely have sex with many men, but then she had stopped and changed her ways. I didn't know what she would now do. She stared at the tour guide, obviously realizing that she was in a fix and that she would be depending on this fellow for help. She reviewed the fellow's request, then indicated that she would go along with him. She knew that she needed him.
The fellow wasn't malicious. He just liked the girl. The question of whether they would actually consummate the physical relationship remained uncertain.
Suddenly I realized that the fellow and the girl were actually in a white car ahead of me which I was following. The vehicle which I was driving seemed like a car, but not exactly. It didn't have a steering wheel and I was guiding the car with something like a little marble which was at the center of a round plate-sized board. By holding my finger on the marble I was able to keep the car moving straight down the highway. At times I seemed to be standing outside, almost like on a surfboard. I noticed that I was going 60 miles per hour, which was extremely fast for me. I had driven this kind of vehicle before, but had never topped 30.
I noticed that not many cars were on the road the way I remembered the traffic to be. I attributed the paucity of cars to the civil strife and violence which was affecting the area.
When the white car in front of me veered off to the left, I followed, but I lost sight of the car for a moment and I wasn't sure that the white car which I was now following was the same car. When the car stopped in a residential area in front of a building which looked like an apartment building, I also pulled in.
I stepped out of my car, walked up on the front porch, and stood in front of a door. The building seemed as if it might be a duplex and a woman on a phone was standing in front of another door at the other end of the porch. I worried that she might be reporting to somebody that I was there. Since I thought I was supposed to go through the door which was right in front of me, I started looking for a key. Some compressed dirt which looked like a door sill was on the porch. I pulled it up and saw some carpentry tools under the dirt. I picked them up, then pulled back a second dirt sill and found yet more tools, including one large red pipe wrench. I also gathered up those tools.
When I stood back up, I simply opened the door and walked into what appeared to be an old-style apartment built perhaps in the 1940s. An extremely tall fellow walked in from an adjoining room and greeted me in English. I thought I recognized him and I started talking with him. I didn't see the tour guide and the girl anywhere, but I had the feeling that they were in the apartment. I was ever more fearful that I was going to be captured by some faction involved in the civil war which was erupting outside. The tall fellow could see that I was upset and he lightly hugged me.
The fellow was perhaps a meter taller than I, and I wondered if he had played basketball in high school. I felt sure that I had seen him before and I thought we had gone to the same high school together. I asked him when he had graduated and he said "67." I thought to myself that I had started high school in 1967 although I hadn't graduated until 1970. The tall fellow, therefore, had been a few years ahead of me. I figured I had undoubtedly seen him at high school during my first year there, and I told him that I had seen him there. He was very friendly.
I walked into the adjoining room and laid all the tools down on a round table. By that point, I was almost shaking. I felt like a bundle of nerves inside. I was so afraid that I would be captured. I didn't know what would then happen to me. I had thought that I had control of the situation until I was inside, but now I felt as if I were almost ready to collapse. I knew the whole country was almost ready to explode.
The preceding dream is an actual dream included in my dream journal, and does not describe actual facts
Copyright 2012 by firstname.lastname@example.org