Dream of: 08 June 2017 "Waiting For Death"

the dead-end road of

the fear of eternal death

should be avoided

 I'm staying in a motel in a small town which is almost a village. I end up in the motel's attic which is a big room where five or six other fellows whom I know are congregated. They kill someone there. (One of the fellows looks like "Rico," a German with whom I was imprisoned in Tabriz, Iran in 1978-1979.) When an official mounts to the attic, the fellow who looks like Rico hits the official and the official dies.

We know we need to leave this place so we all quickly go downstairs. I now feel like an accomplice in the murder.

While all the others leave apparently to go to a bus station a couple kilometers away on the other end of town, I stay in the motel and walk to the front desk with my bag. I do not think that the bus leaves until about six o'clock in the evening, and right now it is only about ten o'clock in the morning.

A woman is standing on the other side of the counter at the front desk. I want to ask her if she has an actual schedule for the bus lines. After she finishes talking to me, a second woman steps right up in front of me and starts to ask the woman behind the counter a question about the price of a room in the motel - I assume. When the woman behind the counter does not say anything to the intruding woman, I step up and say that I was first. I even actually touch the head of the intruding woman, but she still does not step out of my way.

When I am finally able to talk with the woman behind the counter, I learn that she does not have a bus schedule after all.

I walk outside of the motel and see a field in front of me which is covered with tiny, little seeds ("millet" at some point comes to mind). I see a trail through the seeds which I think was left by the other fellows when they left. I think I need to smooth over the seeds so that the tracks will not be evident since the tracks seem to have something to do with the murder.

I stand with my baggage, look toward the other end of town and wonder how I'm going to reach the bus station. I do not want to go to the bus station early and simply stand there for six or seven hours until the bus arrives.

I try to figure out exactly what I'm going to do next.

Commentary of 16 June 2017

It seems that dreams are primarily focused on a moral message, as if the purpose of life was "to be good." That just seems so crazy that as a human, I have been given the task of "being good." It is as if we are being given a test while we are alive on earth and the test is passed by "being good."

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