Last night I dreamed
that I was running for a political office. I had to meet with a church official near the Incarnate Word. When I got there, I realized that he had some kind of a mental problem. When the gunman showed up I tried to get the official to close the side-door as I threw the bolts on the front, but he just stood and shook. Stuck in a close room with an armed drunk guy, all I could do was try to run by him.
Lucky for me he was too slow. I got out and went down the street. There were lots of people around, it must of been some saints day. I made it down to the office of a non-profit I work with, told them my story, and the guy in charge starts looking around for the gun man. He's talking too loud and pointing around, and of course, the gunman happens down the street and notices.
The manager disappears (of course) and I start running down the alley. Somehow, I screw up and get cornered again in an alley. The gunman starts talking more crap (I wish I could remember why he was after me), and he turns his back on me. I figure it's now or never, so I start hitting him in the back of the neck. I wake up hitting my pillow three times -- my hand hurts.
Last night I dreamed
of Fû. This page isn't really intended for public consumption. If you've happened upon it, read at your own risk, I don't promise that all the dreams are real.
Unfortunately, now that I've gotten the page designed, I can't remember last night's dreams very well. Oh well, it will be here next time for early transcription.
Thanks to andy for the ink-blot and the I ching for the navigation (be careful if you're using ie6.) If he keep his brilliant qualities concealed, (a good issue) will descend (as) from Heaven.
