Posted by: normanlgreen | January 28, 2012

Dream, January 28, 2011 time bomb & tie clasp

Dream, home 9:15 am

Part way into a long dream, I travel with all of my belongings in a car. I have stopped to see a gang leader, a man of great charisma and no sense of humor. He uses as his calling card, the neckerchief clasp used in the boy scout uniform. He has pockets full of them and hands them out with quiet ceremony. When he runs low, one of his assistants gives him more. He and his crowd are having a barbeque in a backyard surrounded by a high wooden fence.

I leave their party. When I try to start my car, the engine fails to turn over, and the brakes give out. The car drifts downhill backwards until it come to a stop against a triangular medium at a three street intersection. I leave the car with the knowledge that in a few hours, a time-bomb will explode – more smoke than fire – and will fling t-shirts into the street for the people to take to their homes.

I walk a few blocks until I am in an old commercial district. Remembering that I have an apartment above a store that faces the street. I climb the narrow staircase between two shops. The lights are on in the cluttered apartment.  A bed stands beneath the windows that face the street. I climb under the covers. Through the open window, I hear the voices of two young women arguing with some young men. The women sound threatened, so I go down to the street. The men who had been harassing the girls walk away – not because I have come, but because the do not want the hassle. The women are upset because they have no place to go. I tell them to go upstairs, that I will follow them. At the top of the stairs, they turn right toward the apartment, while I turn left, where I meet the gang leader. He says nothing, but pulls from his pocket one of his signature tie clasps. He turns it face down onto his palm, unfolds the two metal tabs and removes yet a smaller tie clasp from within it. He hands it to me and leaves.

I return to the apartment. The middle of the room is dominated by a large dining room table that is piled high with books. Each of the girls has laid a small mirror on a pile of the books, has cut a line of cocaine and is snorting the stuff. I am infuriated: they had no money for a place to stay, yet they can afford drugs. The room fills with other guests, so I leave.

Realizing that the smoke bomb might be dangerous if it were to explode with anyone near to the car, I walk in the direction of the intersection where I abandoned the car. I take a short-cut through an old opera house. I find myself on a proscenium stage. The house is empty, but the work lights are on. I look to the wings at stage right. The walls and catwalks and lighting rigs are all painted flat black. My eyes trace through the shadows upward toward a platform where I expect to see stage hands. The platform is empty, but a thin cloud of cigarette smoke drifts by.


Waking words: you can’t, so that others might.



  1. Q”Waking words: you can’t, so that others might.”Q

    Powerful statement and beneficial to our entire Peoples of earth

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