From: dicksilk@gmail.com   
      
   2020/08/09 Sunday:   
      
   Starting with the meal:  there was a group of people sitting at a table, not   
   unlike a board of a business: every person there seemed like a CEO, treasurer,   
   secretary, VP, you name it, with the feel of a bank or some type of financial   
   institution.  I *   
   thought* I heard someone speak my name in a discussion, and casually sauntered   
   up to the table to see if I could be of any assistance / add any input / clear   
   up any misunderstandings that may arise.  Directly, so to speak, rather than   
   in a manner more    
   akin to hearsay / gossip / 3rd person.  As I sat at the table (lower right /   
   nearest corner) someone arrived with a tray full of what looked like pinwheel   
   cinnamon pastries, the kind we normally get only at Christmas or Easter.    
   There appeared to be 6    
   pasties, and what I *thought* to be 6 people (including myself) but as I took   
   one and bit into it, some (female?) person on the far left started to complain   
   that I had taken "hers."  I found this a bit disturbing.  I *suspect* that if   
   this was an    
   incident of dream-sharing, the act of actually sharing a dream with another   
   person in a common framework (such as in a chat room on the internet) then I   
   must have somehow come across a selfish, "woke" libtard.   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)