Dream Review

Last night’s dream was not a lucid dream, there was no point in it where I thought “Hey, I’m dreaming, let me direct this and go where I want to” which would be interesting but, in fact, that would sort of defeat the whole purpose of dreaming, which is to let the mind go wherever it will and maybe learn something from the places it takes you. Even if I had been trying to direct this dream, it could not have been any more spectacular.
We (there was quite a crowd of us. My brother Dennis was the only recognizable face at that point, although there was a largish crowd of amiable strangers) were watching a movie, which revolved around a gameshow, with a single contestant, so nobody considered it cheating that she was getting outside help with the answers, like an international team that was off searching for clues, because it was a really hard question, it had to do with a famous legend of a missing payroll for an Antarctic expedition, and they were asking for the specific date, day, month, and year, when the funds miraculously appeared, and an Indian gentleman (turban, not feather) appeared and handed her a dollar bill on which the date was encrypted, and then we were all hiding just behind a circus tent and somebody was saying “Wait, it isn’t over yet!” and we could hear the cranking of machinery, like a film projecter stalling or that ka-thunk kind of noise which is quite disturbing if you hear it when you’re on an elevator, and that happened for a few seconds and then we all came rushing out and ran down the street and into a building where it was all superheroes v. villains in a huge melee and of course we were victorious but interesting characters with key pieces to the puzzle kept showing up and then we left the building again and it was a big parade and I was being pushed in a wheelbarrow with two or three teenage girls (I was much younger myself, my dream, my rules) and we were singing but, it was like a conversation and we were finishing each other’s sentences in perfect rhyming synchronization and I remember thinking “how did she ever come up with a rhyme for ‘someone else’ but I can’t remember what it was and then we were back at the circus, or carnival, what have you, and I was standing underneath a roller coaster, sort of like being under the bleachers looking up but with neon yellow curved tubes everywhere, and the woman running the ride looked down and said “Hey, I know you” and it was Mayim Bialik and then the ride started to move, not as in the cars moving along the track, I mean the whole structure was moving, but I didn’t feel in any danger, and it was shortly after that I woke up.

I think it might have something to do with a difference in the marijuana I am smoking, from the legal pot shop, in that I’m smoking just as much, getting just as high, I think, but am still able to remember my dreams. I’m not sure, but if so, that would be one argument in favor of a GMO.

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