Dream Journal Twenty-one.

I dreamt that I had failed or had probably failed to graduate high school, but my parentsdid not know it.
Rather than worrying, I had chosen to go on a trip – I think to South America—with Jackie and a large group of her friends.The trip would last several months, well into, I think, the arrival of my report card in the mail.

The dream seemed to have been from the sixth chakra, and the predominant mood was that of being a child in a shopping mall–assaulted by absurd flashy signs and advertisements, mesmerized and naive, yet with almost a sportsman hint as to the underlying malice of the establishment.                                                           ^like

Several salesmen(if not only one) offered me an internship of some sort,as though I were the young man who had become famous for exposing several of the CIA’s secrets, even though hislack of a college education seemed to invalidate his claim that he had ever worked for the CIA.

Probably somewhat prior  to this, the dream had taken onalmost the feel of a bird’s-eye view video game, like a much more dramatic Zelda with the expansive ness of Spyro the Dragon and the foreboding tone of Prince of Persia,  as the other travelersandItried to plan our route.

 

The last segment of the dream is blurred in memory and was probably blurred in structure.All I can recall is a woman, probably inspired by Annette, who had supposedly been an INFP,but was behaving in an oddly INTJ fashion.
 

                                                dm.A.A.