I want to roll back to one of the stories I posted this morning. Because it seems to have taken place…
“Some Personal Woo-Woo
Odd dream overnight about a seriously overweight gangster/fat-cat/politician who was having lunch when I walked into a restaurant and sat down across the aisle down one table and facing the door.
The capo with him as a body guard.comes over and says “Boss wants a word.”
I get up, walk over to the table. “I don’ts like youse lookin at me while I eats.”
“Nothing personal. Just every since I was a kid, I always faced the door no one can sneak up on me,” I explained. I went back and had a good lunch.
There was more to it, but after a vivid dream like this one, we’re just waiting for the lunch picture of a mobster/politician with a body guard to hit the wires… odd looking future ahead, indeed.
I’ve been using my “light crown” for about a week and a half now…reduced power level and 20 minutes a day. Seems to add to the quality of dreams.
But you could have pushed me over with a feather when this came over the wires today:
In the dream, open collar light-colored shirt and what looked to be a dark overcoat.
It’s not a perfect fit. But, in the dream the setting was an Italian joint with booths on either side of an aisle (might have had a row of tables between ’em. And no, this wasn’t at lunch-time. It was apparently early morning at the office of a consigliere. Not sure how the “lunch at the Italian joint” got into the dream.
The sense of direction was that the “boss” was facing north, away from the door and I was facing south – with the door at the south end of the joint and exiting east onto the street.
But, one of the issues I raised in my book “Psychocartography” is that in “dream realms” you can have the angle relationships right and get the location of north mixed up. Had a similar set of “clear directional” in the dream before a double-decker bus accident I dreamed in advance down in Melbourne, Australia. All of the directions were about 90-100 degrees off from how the real city of Melbourne (in this reality) is laid out.
But the speechless part?
When I did the image search for Pat Musitano. I swear to you, that was the face of the overweight mobster/political figure in the dream, The tingles in the spine are still firing occasionally even this afternoon.
Goes in my growing book of “No shit…this is some serious woo-woo.” When I wrote this morning “…we’re just waiting for the lunch picture of a mobster/politician with a body guard to hit the wires…” it’s another one of those “way better than chance” events.
Can’t tell you how they work, but by God when they do…
I don’t generally ask publicly for prayers for people, but I will for this fellow. I’d like him to recover so maybe someday he could give us a call. Skype would be fine. Because my visiting life-long buddy (the Major) thinks that there’s some kind of “entanglement” or “karmic linkage” when I get such “direct hits” in my lucid dreams. At a minimum, it would make for an interesting conversation.
Oh, and yeah, the market dropped so this morning’s question of capitulating stock bears tossing the towel in too early is still on the table, too…
Next time I write “...we’re just waiting for the lunch picture of a mobster/politician with a body guard to hit the wires...” let’s all hope it will be under more pleasant circumstances.
Moron the morrow.