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Dream of: 30 June 1982 "Men on the Moon"

I was at the House in Patriot, thinking of visiting the Swiver's house across the street. I looked across the street and saw the neighbor Madeline Saunders (probably less than 20 years old) and a man pull up in a car and go into the house. I realized Madeline was now a Swiver and was living there. I knew she was divorced. I spoke to my uncle George (who was in the house with me) and he told me that Madeline had just married the previous week.

Ron Bell (a Portsmouth acquaintance) was also in the House with me, and he began talking about Kim Leitel (a Portsmouth friend), who was also living in Patriot. Ron told me that he was attending college in Portsmouth, that he had seen Kim at the college, and that he had concluded that she attended college there. He wanted to go out with Kim. He also talked about Sussie Schultz (another friend from Portsmouth) and also about a third girl.

I wanted to tell him that all three of those girls were completely insane, not merely slightly disoriented, but really insane. I said nothing, however. I just listened to him talk.

My brother Chris (1957-1974) was also there. He looked as if he were about nine years old. He did not look like himself. He did not have muscular dystrophy and he was up walking around.

I motioned Ron over to the bathroom. After he entered the bathroom and sat down on the side of the tub, I walked over to his side and in his ear I whispered, "Acid." He did not seem to understand me. Some black dust was around the top of the tub and in it with my finger I wrote "LSD." I had written it because I did not want Chris to hear me talking about it. I pointed at the word and asked, "Do you know where I can get any of that?"

Ron muttered "LSD" under his breath. I turned around and saw Chris standing there. When Chris said he knew what I had written, I said, "What?"

"LSD," he replied.

I playfully punched Chris in the chest, and he backed away.

Ron spoke up and told me he might know where he could get some. He asked me if I would like some "STP." I told him that I didnít want any STP, that I only I wanted LSD, or maybe some mescaline or psilocybin. He said he knew where he could get some LSD in little square tablets which cost $10 a tablet. I asked him how good it was, and he maintained it was very good. He had taken some and it had made him see "men on the moon." I figured if I were to take two tablets, it should be pretty good.

He told me if we went to get some, he wanted me to also buy him a tablet. I began calculating that the whole thing was going to be fairly expensive. Two or three tablets would cost $20-$30. I was unsure I wanted to spend that much money. I thought about asking him what color the tablets were.

He said we could probably get the tablets the next day. I did not want to wait until the next day; I wanted it right then. If I were going to take it, I wanted to do it immediately.

We gravitated into the kitchen where a black fellow was sitting at the table. A second black fellow walked in and headed toward the bathroom, but he suddenly turned around and began speaking to the black fellow at the table in an African language. It sounded as if he were asking something about towels in the bathroom. I assumed that the fellow at the table was living and working in the House and that the second black fellow had come from Africa to visit him. The sound of the language surprised me since I had never heard it before.

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