19781005

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Dream of: 05 October 1978 "Fleeting Images"

I took two pounds of marijuana to Ramo's house in Portsmouth (Ramo was a friend with whom I started smoking marijuana when I was 17 years old when we were both seniors in high school in 1970). I wanted to sell the marijuana to Ramo, but when I realized Ramo didn't yet have the money with which to buy the marijuana, I left.

Outside in the street I encountered Rico (a German fellow with whom I was incarcerated in prison in Iran in 1978), and we began playing a game of chase. As I chased Rico through the streets, we came to a fire station and walked inside. We saw a fire truck, as well as the beds where the firemen slept. We also saw two, large, glass jugs of milk. Since Rico and I both had mugs with us, we each filled our mugs and each drank a mug-full of milk. As we filled the mugs a second time, intending to leave with them, Rico asked a fireman how much the milk cost. When the fireman said the milk would cost 1,000 rials (currency of Iran), we thought the price was ridiculously high, but when he finally said the milk would only cost 60 rials, we paid him for it.

***

I returned to Ramo's house where I found Ramo in a room on the first floor. When I poked a stick in a hole in the chimney in the room, I could hear stones which I had knocked loose falling inside the chimney. It sounded as if the chimney had no floor and that the stones continued falling down.

I noticed McGee (a Portsmouth acquaintance whom I briefly knew in 1977) sitting in the room, smoking a joint. He said the marijuana he was smoking was some of the same marijuana I was selling. I praised the marijuana, took a hit from the joint, and passed it to Ramo.

Ramo and I then walked upstairs to his room, where I saw many little white bags full of white powder on his dresser. Ramo said that the powder was just like psilocybin mushrooms and that the powder was good when sprinkled on marijuana.

Other people were also in the house; I heard Ramo's parents coming up the stairs. Obviously they knew what was going on in Ramo's bedroom, but they didn't say anything. Suddenly an excited man burst into the room. At first I thought the man was a policeman, but then I realized that he was only complaining because he couldn't pay his rent because Ramo owed him $200. When two or three other men also showed up, a fight seemed to be in the making, but the men finally left without further incident.

I stood up and told Ramo if he would simply sell one pound of marijuana, he would have enough money to pay the man. When I also told him he should do something with the white powder, he gave me a bag and I began snorting the powder from it.

I noticed a doll in the room which reminded me of my brother Chris (five years my junior, crippled with muscular dystrophy). The image of Chris made me remember a time when I had been with Chris at the Pike County Farmhouse. I recalled that my step-uncle Ivan, Ivan's wife, and two small girls had walked into the room. Chris had spoken with one of the girls, and then they had all left.

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