Dreamlog: 1.26.04
Somehow or other I am trapped in an elevator.
With the four men who’ve played some significant roll in my life over the last year.
Three look cautiously at me, and then sit me down between them. They then direct their gazes over my head at the fourth. I cover my face in my hands, afraid to look up.
One, in glasses, tall and stately, asks academic questions as if he were Benjamin Franklin and quips in like fashion. His spectacles lazily drift further down his nose.
“And under these circumstances, the metaconscious did not intercede in causing pause or remorse?”
One, trembling, shudders in defensive fury and confusion.
“You?! Why?! How?! Unfair!?”
The fourth looks down at his feet and is unable of speaking a word. His shoulders shake and I wimper softly for him.
The third. He doesn’t look at the first two. Nor does he look at the forth.
He looks at me, and just as I prepare to flinch from his judgement or glare, he reaches over to lay a kiss on my head and a hand on my shoulder.
He says to me,
“Hey.
So?
I see you.
You.
Only you.”
And this is the one I choose.
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