GAME:

Game:

My dog could not wake me from half-sleep with his musical barking, but my father could, ironically trying to silence the dog.

I recall a lot of travel. I was in foreign territory, though it was not enemy territory.

My feelings of personal vindication from conscious life carried over into Dream. I am shedding the apprehensions that I was imbibed with by Bullies and parasites who required me to be different in order to carry out their totally arbitrary and self-centered agendas, only to blame me later for having any agenda at all when I pointed out to them that mine was the more noble and inclusive of the lot. I am beginning to reinforce my natural good will with an acquired charm and confidence. I am ceasing to allow leeches to take advantage of my good graces. And I can look right into the Heart of any life situation without clutching at it. I am surfacing from the corrosive depths. Even fish need air.

My Dream revisits familiar places but with renewed vigor. I travel to a lot of the same venues and houses; I am engaged in plenty of the same games. And as though I had broken through a tough boss battle or puzzle in a computer game, I am beginning to win and to progress. It is frightful at times. But there is glory and excitement in the difficulty. I blame neither the game, nor do I blame myself FOR the game. This is Life, and Life is a Play. Those who denied this Truth were, by the very nature of their alien obstinance, reinforcing the difficulty and tragic integrity of the Game.

Dm.A.A.