Dream of: 17 September 2017 "Flimsy Golden Rings"
pledge yourself to the
divine voice which calls you in
the depths of your dreams
I am at some kind of event in a stadium. I sit down between Dawson (one of my law professors in 1983) on my right and another old law professor on my left. The event is part of a course of some sort. I am not enrolled, but for some reason I have come to simply sit and listen. No one seems to mind that I am present.
When Dawson (died in 2015 at the age of 98) begins talking to me, I remember that just the other day I was looking on my computer at the dreams which I had had of him. I do not, however, mention the dreams to him. We talk and he is quite friendly. We get along. He is very thin and only looks about 50 years old, even though I think he is almost 100 years old. I think he has certainly held his age well. I rather like being next to him.
When the event comes to an end, I notice a ring lying on the ground. I start to pick it up, but Dawson grabs the ring before I can. I notice some other rings which Dawson picks up as well. I have the feeling that he has found other rings like this at the end of other events. I nevertheless manage to pick up a couple flimsy, golden rings - almost paper-thin - and I ask Dawson if I can keep them. He seems hesitant at first to allow me to keep the rings, but finally he says that I can keep any rings that I can find. I keep looking, but I do not find any more.
As we stand up to leave and as I prepare to depart, I think that I will probably never see Dawson again, but he says he will see me soon. I am unsure what he means by that. He says something about my taking a picture of him. I think he may be thinking about the time when I used to be a photographer and would travel to a different store every week to take portrait photography. He may think that I am still a photographer. I want to explain to him that I simply had certain poses which I would use to take pictures of children.
A bunch of people - mostly men - suddenly show up. They are all distinguished and dressed in suits. I am unsure what is going on, but I conclude that they are gathering here for a reason. For some reason, Dawson also seems to want me to stay, but I tell him that I need to leave. I say, "I'm leaving."
Just as I am about to leave, it suddenly occurs to me that Dawson is gay. I never realized that before. I know that I am not gay, but I do not hold it against Dawson that he is gay. Nevertheless, I think, "Faggot. Never would have thought ..."
Commentary 08 October 2017
Love of the law is not always a virtue.
Copyright 2017 by firstname.lastname@example.org