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A bunch of dreams, and then some more dreams. Dreams within dreams. Is life itself a dream? Why are these all called Dreamscapes, anyway? Who are we and where do we come from?

Dreams i (9/26)

March 5, 1991

Choose a different dreamscape

In the dream I am politically involved. I carry a gun; am a guard for some dissenters. I refuse to take a stand on an issue and find myself (surprise!) shot in the back. An enormous blast. I should be dead. Instead, I sit in a chair + face my foe and he shoots me again! No pain, but I know the bullet has ripped ½ my heel away and pierced my thigh (my foot was raised). I know this from the warmth in my leg. I am irreparable; will doubtless die. If I live, I’ll never be the same. One of the gun holders is kind enough to decide to finish me. He puts his gun to my temple and pulls the trigger. Tremendous blast! I am still conscious. It was too low. I am lying on the floor. I try to tell him to finish me, but my mouth is full of blood. Still… no pain. I am torn between the desire to survive above all else, and the desire to be finished… done. The man understands that I’m not dead. I feel the barrel of the gun against the back of my skull. He tries to pull the trigger but it won’t shoot until he raises it. He apologizes, tries again. Again it jams. I just want it over. I don’t want to survive as the vegetable I surely will be. The gun shakes with the pressure of his finger on the trigger. I fluctuate between consciousness and dream / death. Consciousness wins out and I come up from my pillow gasping and flushed.

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