dreams: December 4, 1998
I'm in a kitchen. A luminescent older woman is next to me. I can't see her face, but she has big blonde curly hair like an angel's halo. All of a sudden I feel the force of God -- Christ more precisely. (Not necessarily Jesus, but the force of his inner Christ spirit.) Christ feels golden, like total divine light pouring into me. [I wake up for a second in bliss, my body shaking with the vibration.] I hear Sarah McLachlan's song, "Into the Fire," except the words are "Into the Light." Benjamin, from the D., is here. He's being healed. I'm giving him my prayers.
picking through old squash
NEXT, I'm in Phoebe's room at John's house. It's a mess. There are bowls of old food sitting on the floor. I see a dead mouse. I'm disgusted. I'm at Megan's house, next-door. It's evening, and we're hanging out together. We are still in high school. Then I'm at a social event with Megan. A girl is preparing a salad, and she POURS ranch dressing onto it. Veronica is here too. Then I'm at a kitchen counter, putting together a dish for a small meal with a number of people. I'm combining already-sliced and cooked zucchini and squash from big plastic yogurt containers. I have doubts because some are old; they've been sitting around unrefrigerated for days. I'm going to be microwaving it all, but I don't want anyone eating weird bacteria that may have accumulated. The squash looks beautifully golden. But one of the square shallow pans of the veggie is really old, because I remember seeing it sitting in Phoebe's room. I notice it has a big dead ant floating in the water in it. A few other bugs are there too. I'm picking out some pieces of squash, while leaving out others. All the stuff I want is getting put into another plastic container. The kitchen counter is in the parking lot on Water Street. It's nighttime. Others are here too. A male friend comes to see what I'm doing (Will Nessly?). As he leans over next to me, we have a moment of intimacy -- close friendship that feels really good, even though it's not acknowledged out loud in any way. I walk home, up to B Street. It's dark. All of a sudden my forehead gets all warm. It's as if I were leaning over a steaming plate of food. It reminds me that I'm only carrying an empty plate (a big blue ceramic serving plate with flowers). I can't find where I put all the selected squash/zukes. I look through my pockets. I forgot it, so I have to go back.
- FIN -
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