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per amica silentia lunae

or, across the ferny brae with the evil voodoo celt

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"And by the way let us recount our dreams."
So, as I mentioned in my last (and first!) LJ entry, I had a vivid and unusually linear dream the other night. Also unusual for me was that I was able to remember it long enough to write it down. So, here it is:

I'm in a foreign city- for some reason, I thought of it as Romania, but not for any reason I can put a finger on- definitely European in tone, though; possibly actually resembling Dublin. I'm at a café/greasy spoon, ordering coffee and pastry. The clientele and staff seemed non-specifically hostile. A woman buying coffee in front of me has serious, almost theatrical jitters; I reflect that the coffee must be good.

Because of the slightly hostile atmosphere, I try to pay in exact change- the bill was 1.15, but not sure what currency it was in. It's hard to make up exact change from the coins and bills in my pocket- I remember an 80 on one coin, but I'm not sure whether it was Euros, local currency, or something inappropriate like pence. The coins seemed to be a mix of currencies, as a matter of fact, but I manage to finally pay with exact change, as planned.

Outside the place, a loiterer approaches me. He's a disheveled scruffy guy in jeans and a white t-shirt, dark hair, unshaven; I wonder if he might be a Gipsy. He wants to be my guide and/or bodyguard, but I'm hesitant about it. He then says he will come to help/serve me in the U.S.- he describes a letter he will send me as a signal that he is on his way, with a code-phrase in it about making a grill for me. I'm still kind of leery, and contemplate giving him my work address as a way to keep him satisfied but still at a distance.

I look at a map and realize that the area I'm in is marked in gray and labeled "Under control of Religious Separatists" or some such. Makes sense to me- I noted/note/will note graffiti of that sort, signs of collective living, vacant buildings, the feeling that barricades could go up at any time. The area on the map is not too big, and not too far from where I want to be- my hotel? I think I drive/am driven around a bit at this point, possibly with/by a friend.

Then I run into a joyful Mardi Gras / Vodoun sort of procession- I recognize it (I think) as being for Yemaya. It's led by lots of dancing women who are carrying decorated objects like eggs and hearts; they are wearing robes and jewelry in gold and pink and silver- lots of beads and lamé; they are followed by many more jolly people. I think that this is a bit out of place for the country, but I join in- I am accepted into the parade and I have a wonderful time dancing along.

We head towards a building with a sign saying "Tesla" out front; there are children (all ages and races) going in both via the stairs and climbing up to the porch. I hope that the sign means a museum to Nikolai Tesla, and that I can come back and visit after the procession. We all go down into the building's basement, where there is a big dance floor. There is a blonde guy there who seems to be a choreographer (he looks somewhat like someone in the boffer campaign I game in), with about four others who he seems to be rehearsing. He tells us to leave- I know that it is bad luck for him to thwart the parade/dance like this. As we leave, I say "My curse on you."

So, how about that?

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To sleep, perchance to dream...

That's pretty bizarre. I've been trying to remember my dreams more lately, but I haven't been having too much luck. I remember hearing once that there's a vitamin that's supposed to make you remember your dreams better, but I don't remember which one.

I remembered a scrap of one a couple of weeks ago. One of the space probes that's gathering meteor or comet material and returning it to Earth was due. I was talking to some people who were saying rather matter-of-factly "Oh, we're doomed." I gather they believed that it would bring some sort of alien microbe that would kill us all, but they didn't seem inclined to *do* anything about it.

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