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Dream of: 21 June 1976 "The Holy Meeting"

have faith in god's voice

as strange as it may appear

nothing else matters

On a lark, I had gone with two other fellows to a white church (which reminded me of the little white church in the village of Patriot, Ohio). I expected to find the preacher and his sermon to be absurd. As the church began filling with people, I noticed a girl sitting behind me who reminded me of someone I had once known named Bev. Even though the girl's mother (who looked vaguely like Carol, the first woman with whom I ever had sex) was with the girl, I thought I would like to be with the girl.

After the preacher walked to the front and began preaching, I quickly became tired or disgusted with the sermon and I headed toward the door. As I walked out, I shouted some words back into the church, one of which was "Raserei," a German word which I thought meant "nonsense."

After the sermon had finished, the other people in the church also walked outside and I spoke with the girl. She told me that even though she was 18 years old, she couldn't go anywhere because her mother was so strict. I told her if she were 18 she had the right to do what she liked, but she didn't believe me. After talking to her a while, I felt as if I might like to go to bed with her, but I decided that doing so would be foolhardy.

I was surprised to see Dr. Weinstein (an optometrist who was the father of my good friend Steve Weinstein) outside. Dr. Weinstein and I spoke briefly.

I also saw my father outside. Although I had ridden a motorcycle to church, I decided to leave the motorcycle there and depart with my father in his car. On the ground lay about thirty centimeters of snow which my father began helping me pile onto the motorcycle to camouflage it. My father and I then boarded his car and arrived at a house in Portsmouth, Ohio, where my father parked the car. We both stepped out of the car and walked into the house.

I knew that my mother and two of my brothers were in a room somewhere in the house. A blonde-haired woman was also running around the house.

My father and I began performing a rite. He told me to stand on his shoulders and say something like, "The holy meeting with my father will now begin."

I did so. He then dipped his head into a bowl of water (which he had in the closet) and shook his head. I in turn took the bowl and poured the water over my head.

When I then heard my mother moaning somewhere in the house, I asked my father to accompany me to find her. As he and I walked into the hallway, I discovered I had lost my voice. When I saw the blonde-haired woman standing in a doorway for a moment, I thumped my hand on the wall to get my father's attention. When he stopped, I formed the words "blonde woman" with my lips, but no words came out. My father advanced no further with me.

I walked alone through the hallway and passed the room where my two brothers were engaging in homosexual activity. One had his eyes turned back as if he were insane and yellow sperm splotched on his butt.

I walked into a room where my mother lay covered with blankets and moaning. When I saw that the blankets were soaked with blood, I thought she was having her period. After I walked over to her and asked her if she were bleeding, she virulently cried out, "Even if I weren't bleeding it wouldn't make any difference. Mother can't seem to keep her hands clean."

Sensing the dire meaning of her words I groped for her hands. In one I found a knife which, buried deep in her flesh, was ripping out her insides.

Dream Commentary of December 12, 2014

It seems that the major difference between the Dream Journal and a church is belief in God. As far as I know, the members of a church are supposed to believe in God. Belief in God, however, is not a requirement for the Dream Journal. Dreams, rather than God, lie at the core of the Dream Journal. If anything holds the members of the Dream Journal together, it would seem to be a belief in the publishing of dreams.

In this context, I have noticed a religious metaphor in my dreams (which is apparent in this dream when I pour the water over my head) and I believe I detect a similar metaphor in some of the watery dreams of others: baptism. I suspect that part of the symbolical significance of religious baptism is the washing away of sin. I think - for some at least - that the publishing of dreams is a process which serves much like baptism to wash away sin. For the brave, the publication of dreams serves a similar purpose as the cool baptismal waters of a church. In a sort of public baptism, we reveal our sins to the world and in doing so, we seek to have them purged. In my opinion, it works - at least to some extent.

Of course, I'm sure not everyone will agree with this assessment. The idea of baptism on the Dream Journal does help me personally, however, to reach what I believe may be a unifying belief of members of the Dream Journal, which is:

The members of the Dream Journal are united in their belief in the power of the publication of dreams.


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