Friday, September 18, 2009

Dream - Flying in an old black pickup truck

On Sunday, January 18, 2009, I had a dream about flying in an old black pickup truck with several other people.

In the dream, I was at the radiator shop. It was night. Several people were there with me. I think some of them were relatives, but not all of them. I'm not sure what we were originally doing there, late at night. I don't think it was radiator work. We seemed to be having some kind of get-together and were discussing things. There was a little bit of tension involved, some anxiousness, and a feeling that time was short, that we had to get things figured out soon. I think we might have been eating there also, and one or two of the rooms may have been set up for sleeping. For some reason I seemed not to have any pants on, and this was starting to increasingly bother me.

I went out the front and around to the side entrance, gliding through the air I think. In the dream the side entrance went directly to a large bathroom, but my younger brother, who had not been there earlier, arrived and got there first. He went in and closed the door. I didn't linger. As I saw him going in I continued forward, going toward the alley as if that had been my destination. I was already a ways out, maybe ten or fifteen feet, from the side of the building so it didn't necessarily seem as if I had been going to the bathroom. I'm not sure he even saw me, though he looked s little somewhat in my direction.

Out by the alley it was much darker. The area around the shop had been brightly lit. After drifting around out by the alley for a while, I went back. My brother was just getting out of the bathroom, and went around toward the front. I went and got inside an old black pickup truck that was parked on the pavement beside the shop. I still didn't want it to look like I was trying to get in the bathroom. I was also becoming more bothered by my lack of pants and didn't really want my brother to see me this way. The truck was out a ways from the wall, maybe enough to park a small car beside it. It was pointed toward the alley, away from the street. I'm not sure it was there on my way by the first time, but it was now.

I sat there in the truck considering what to do. I finally decided that I would have to go home and use the bathroom there. Several people came out from the shop, rushed out really, and got in. They were apparently employees, though some of them may have been used for something other than radiator work. I didn't really know any of them, though I guess I knew enough to know they weren't strangers.

Both side windows were down, and I reached out and grabbed the window sills on both sides of the truck, and, gathering my strength, pulled the truck up into the air with me. I flew up and toward the back a little, but the overhead lines got in the way as I tried to go up. I went back down at least some and then back up a bit and tried to go south down Scottsdale Road and then go up higher again, but lines were still in the way. I turned and crossed the road and tried to get up again, and lines were still in the way. There were band after band of them, some bands going across diagonally. Some of the bands had wires that weren't very thick, like they were used for some purpose other than telephone or power. I was thinking perhaps cable. (In reality a lot of those are thick, and some telephone lines are thin, but I didn't think of that in the dream.) When I got past one set of wires there was another set going some way or the other, a little ways higher.

I went back across the road to the shop. I had to get up somehow, there had to be some way, I couldn't just give up. I pulled up on the truck again, spiraling upward, the nose of the truck pointed straight up. I wandered around in the path I was taking, trying to get past the wires, the truck still pointed up, and ended up slightly south near the neighborhood street, trying to work my way around the lines there also. There seemed to always be more going some direction or other.

Finally I was past the last bit, a set of regular heavy black lines, but then I saw more above that, a layer that seemed to cover everything. It looked like little sections of thin grating two to four inches long and an inch to an inch and a half wide, turned this way and that. There seemed to be no way around it, but I felt that we couldn't be stopped, we couldn't allow ourselves to be stopped now.

I had kind of a feeling, and, still wondering if something might happen, if I might get zapped, I reached up with my hand and pushed at them. They separated, moving aside, and with my fingers sticking out past them I pushed at them with my hand, moving it back and forth and to the side, moving them around. They were just a layer of debris of some sort, things that had floated up from the wires and associated devices below, floating on the surface of the water.

I moved the truck up through them, taking it up nose first and then leveling off with it floating half in the water. Water was rushing out of the truck, pouring out. The back of the truck, a dark metal boxlike structure, stayed tilted back, like the bed of a dump truck. A man was still in it. I pulled on it, trying to right it. The man said no, to leave him. I objected and kept trying, but he insisted, saying that he would be alright, so I prepared to leave him floating there with the boxlike bed of the truck, and fly on toward home with the others.

Much more happened earlier at the shop, but I wrote down the dream the following night and had forgotten the earlier part by that time, though some remained for a few hours after the dream.

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