Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Dream Journal Eighteen.


            Last night, I dreamt that I was involved in a team operation. We somehow flew about between an Ocean and a foreboding skyscape.

 

                        Amanda may have been the chief officer.

 

Towards the end of the dream, the dire fate of the mission(and presumably our lives)seemed to depend upon us Rising to the highest level of a floating, cylindrical, missile-shaped Station in the sky.

 

I was eventually hunted, doggedly, bysome dark force or agency whose intent was to Destroy me.

 

The pervasive Moods were regret and cynicism:The drudgery that I imagine so many of my peers, especially Amanda, feel.

 

At one point,I was in a dark room, like something out of MYST,but less eerie.

 

I was battling with the loss of my dearly beloved drawings.There was one other person in the room, probably of the same gender.I was trying to convince him that the drawings were childish.

 
                                                            dm.A.A.

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