I had gone to what might be a park forest and was in a tall building which had a type of large round dome at the top in which people appeared to be going to sleep in sleeping bags all around on the floor. Windows were all around the sides of the large round room and through them I had have glimpses of the verdant forest below me.
Someone else (who seemed like a woman) and I were supposed to meet some other people in a tunnel or cave in a forest. She and I had found one short tunnel, but it had a stream flowing out of it, so we couldn't enter. I was just not able to find the tunnel we were supposed to find.
Some people were gathered together apparently having a picnic, perhaps in a park. I saw a plate with some fried chicken on it and picked up a piece of white meat – it looked like a breast. As I began eating the chicken, I reflected on how long it had been since I had eaten any chicken. But didn't I recently have a little chicken salad? At any rate I knew I usually didn't eat chicken, but I had decided that this time I was just going to dig into it and I soon had eaten all the meat so nothing was left but the bone.
I sat down on the ground and sitting near me was Weinstein. He commented on the fact that I had been eating the chicken and I told him I ate meat. But I felt uncomfortable with that fact, and as the conversation continued, the subject of eating meat became a focal point.
I explained to Weinstein how in general I felt feel good about my life. Indeed, even as I talked with him I felt a certain healthy vigor and power in my limbs. The feeling seemed to reflect the general healthy nature of my life. And it seemed to me that Weinstein felt basically the same way about his life. We both seemed to have reached a certain point of being in touch with our lives.
However, the fact that I ate meat was detracting from my healthy feeling and I even felt a bit queasy. As I continued talking about the subject, I stood and noticed what appeared to be a large hunk of beef on a nearby table. The beef must have been a half a meter in diameter. I pointed it out to Weinstein and I noticed the side on which people had been cutting looked a little dark and leathery.
I picked up a knife and poked that side of the beef. To my chagrin, a large slice of the beef fell off onto the ground. I looked at Weinstein as if asking him what I should do now. It seemed obvious that I couldn't put the beef back in place now that it had gotten all dirty. I poked my knife into the beef again and a little sliver was cut off onto my knife. I stick it into my mouth to taste it. I somewhat liked the taste, but it almost immediately caused me to feel even more nauseated.
Finally I stuck my knife into the piece of meat which had fallen onto the ground, picked it up and slung it into some nearby weeds. No sooner had I done this, than I noticed a man wearing sunglasses approaching me walking up what looked like a driveway. I seemed to be standing in front of a house reminiscent of the House in West Portsmouth, and it immediately occurred to me that the beef and the slice I had just thrown away belonged to the man, who apparently lived in the house. I hoped he hadn't notice what I had done.
The man (about 40 years old) walked up to where I was. He reminded me of a man who used to live across the street from the House in West Portsmouth. A boy who was apparently his son was with him. The man was very muscular. He wasn't wearing a shirt and was caked with dirt. Strapped around his chest, arms and neck was a very large link chain. The chain in turn was connected to probably the largest chainsaw I had ever seen which the man was carrying in his hands.
Apparently the man had just returned from work and I attempted to converse with him, but he didn't seem very talkative. I noticed some very large trees there around the house. They were probably two meters in diameter. But some had been cut out about ten meters above the ground and at least one of them was leaning over. No leaves were on any of the trees, which appeared dead. I asked the man if he was the one who had cut the tops of the trees, but I didn't hear any response.
For some reason I recalled that I had had several dreams in which Herb Green had appeared and that in each dream he had been carrying a chainsaw. That somewhat puzzled me.
The man finally took off his chainsaw and had some kind of stand which he could set it on to clean it. He worked on it for a short while and then walked into the house.
Almost as soon as he had gone inside, a young black bear appeared. It seemed as if I had seen the bear before. It was very playful and ran up to me. The trouble was that it was a bit too playful and didn't know its own strength. It was quite strong and could easily hurt me with its sharp teeth and sharp claws. I was in no mood to play with it and tried to fend it off. But it wouldn't leave. Finally, with a short, heavy metal bar which I was holding in my hand, I tapped the bear on its muzzle.
When I did so, the bear yelped in pain and ran from me. I realized I had inadvertently hit one of the bears teeth and I was immediately concerned I might have crushed the tooth. I wondered how strong the enamel on the bear's tooth was. I doubted that I had seriously injured the bear, but still I was concerned.
Finally the bear walked back over to me, but it was no longer frisky and seemed afraid. I tried to pet it and it rolled over on its back and seemed apprehensive. I scratched its stomach, and it looked as if it were uninjured, although I was still not entirely sure.
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