Dream: Sifting Through
Last Night’s Dream:
I’m standing watching a bunch of people sifting sand. They’re standing at large wooden trays, and some have huge flat wood-framed sifters, but others have smaller round things like colanders. I don’t know what they’re sifting for. Then, I notice that they’re really not sifting sand, they’re sifting through bags and bags of tiny, brilliantly colored toys and candy; like stuff that would come out of a gumball machine. I look into one of the big bags, which are like a garbage bag in size but clear, and I can see that the little items are sort of grouped by type, but not in separate bags. Now, people aren’t sifting with sifters any more, they’re reaching into these big bags with smaller bags, trying to separate the types of little toys. I do this for a while myself.
I’m watching as a bunch of big trucks back up to a huge pile of rubbish. I don’t know what it’s from, but it looks like lots of dirt and scrap iron. They are being filled by back-hoes, then driving off with loads of the junk in the trucks. I’m talking to somebody, I think a young boy; he asks if I’m one of the loaders, and I explain that I’m just a driver. I notice that now we’re in the truck driving away.
I’m in a room that reminds me of a court room; there is some sort of town-hall style meeting going on. Somebody starts shouting anti-gay remarks, and a riot breaks out – some people are defending the gay people in the crowd, some are attacking them physically. I remember seeing one man stand up, hugging a teenage boy, saying, “This is the only son I have left.” Someone comes by and tries to hit the boy, but the man hits him first. There are a couple of guys threatening a young man with a gun; they knock him to the ground, pointing the gun at his stomach. He cowers on the ground, crawling toward a corner, as they shout at him. I notice that a couple of the people in the room are covered by one of those digitized blurs that you see on television news; it’s like they were minors, or something.
I’m at some sort of awards luncheon; it’s very dimly lit here. I’m sitting next to someone that I know, a woman – it takes a while for me to realize that it’s Virginia from OCP. I talk to her a while, but don’t remember what we talked about. Then, I realize that we’re actually sitting at two adjacent tables, not together; I pick up my stuff and move to sit beside her. I notice that at a table near us is Clara H, and someone else that I recognize, but can’t place… all that I see is a cloud of dark auburn hair. Then she turns sideways, and I recognize her – it’s V. L. I wave, I think, and she sees me and smiles, but is busy talking.
Then the whole group is being rearranged; now, we’re being seated at long tables, banquet-style, to listen to a program. I don’t remember what the program is about, but I remember thinking that it seems like it’s all women here but me; I don’t know if it’s an arts thing or not.
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