From: dicksilk@gmail.com   
      
   Just a slight catch-up on the "cubic-motel" with gold-crimson lines... as of   
   today (11/24/23) some of the hostages are being transferred out of Gaza to   
   Egypt (to freedom) — As of the time of this editing, they have arrived back   
   in Israel.   
      
   Meanwhile, as yesterday was Thanksgiving, I was a bit too preoccupied to make   
   a post, but here's the entry that should have been posted yesterday morning:   
      
   2023/11/23 Thursday (Thanksgiving):   
      
   One very peculiar dream-like (possibly astral?) experience stayed with me all   
   day (as well as being relatively still fresh this morning, Friday) so here it   
   is:   
      
   The dreamer had, for *some* reason that was relatively *so fast* that the   
   intro to the sequence was nearly a blur of activity, gone out upon a ledge   
   (approximately 2' "wide", that is, running the length of the outer wall of a   
   building, away from the wall    
   by about 2', some unknown distance above whatever was below) and was in a   
   *primarily* supine position (on one's back) but possibly a touch rolled onto   
   the right arm/side.  It was *as if* the dreamer had awakened (in a night   
   scene, rather dark outside!) *   
   on the ledge.*   
      
   The "feeling" was as if the ledge were either 40 floors or possibly even 140   
   floors above the street below.  The dreamer had the *distinct* feeling of   
   gravity (*and* height!) such that if the dreamer were to fall asleep and roll   
   further clockwise (onto    
   the right side) the dreamer would roll *off* the ledge, and gravity would take   
   the dreamer to whatever came next (like a *splat* with the sidewalk, etc.) so   
   the dreamer was *very* mindful of *staying* mindful ("alert") so as to avoid   
   possibly falling    
   asleep and rolling off the ledge.  (The mental state of the dreamer was such   
   that it would have been *very* easy to release focus / mindfulness and fallen   
   asleep.)   
      
   So as the dreamer was lying there, contemplating {his/her} position (the   
   gender/sex of a dreamer is *often* unthought of) there was the thought of the   
   outside temperature (at night) which was *considered* to be on the side of   
   "cold" and there was even a    
   hint of snowfall out across the city night.   
      
   At this point of contemplation *by the dreamer within the dream,* the dreamer   
   looked across the dark sky towards a distant skyscraper that had something   
   like a golden (bronze?) bell (similar to the "Liberty Bell") as something akin   
   to a lit image (   
   perhaps it was just a lit sign, perhaps it was a bell with a light on it,   
   perhaps it was a bell of light itself, perhaps it was something else   
   entirely?) and about that time, the dreamer considered the consequence of   
       
   in contrast/comparison with the idea of moving in any direction possible   
   (either towards the feet or towards the head) in order to generate *some* form   
   of "change" in the situation.   
      
   At the time of the dream, it was rather clear which way the dreamer went, but   
   a day later, it's unclear as to whether the dreamer shuffled towards the feet,   
   or towards the head (I *think* it was towards the feet) when the very next   
   moment, the dreamer    
   came onto a slightly wider platform, of perhaps 4' square in space, presumably   
   there so that the disabled (those in wheel chairs) could "sit out" and enjoy   
   the view.  (Was it a "plank" for pushing old / infirm people off of tall   
   buildings?  Reminds me of    
   the old Norse tradition as well as the Muslim / Shari'a / jihadist practice of   
   tossing queers off of tall buildings, but that's an observation made while   
   writing this up.  In the dream, it was just an "access point" for the   
   disabled.)   
      
   At any rate, the dreamer immediately arose / stood up, and sure enough, the   
   door was *unlocked* and the dreamer went *right into* / inside the building,   
   made a left turn (as if heading down a corridor) and was met by at least one   
   face (that looked a bit    
   like my younger self) heading towards the dreamer.   
      
   The dreamer was *beginning* to share something akin to [Guess what I just went   
   through!] when the dream ended, feeling a bit like entering into the oncoming   
   rush of energy/light that followed the face that had come down the corridor.   
      
   And while the night-view was *clearly* "dark," the "mental focus" of the   
   dreamer was relatively strong, even though the dream itself *may* be some time   
   of time-summary, wherein *numerous* events (throughout a period of time) have   
   shaped a type of "   
   corridor" through which an idea has traveled (with an "idea" being akin to a   
   soul's existence) so I'm gonna give this a clarity of 10-/9+.   
      
   The other dream (from the evening/morning of the 23rd) was that of the dreamer   
   *looking in* "Gina's diary."   
      
   While there was no overt effort to *read* her diary, there *was* a single   
   observation (with some clarity) wherein she (specifically, *the writing*)   
   mentioned a dislike for the name "Dick Silk" (written in cursive.)  While I   
   *could've* quoted it verbatim    
   upon waking, the best I can do now is an approximate paraphrase: [I dislike   
   the name "Dick Silk."]  (Gina has always known me as "Richard" — as best I   
   know myself.)   
      
   Incidentally, I *have* a sample of Gina's handwriting (IRL) and, like *many*   
   women, it is (or at least "was") rather flowing and full, whereas the writing   
   in the diary was more like my mother's handwriting, a bit sharper / masculine   
   than most female    
   handwriting. Another observation is that, while my elderly mother's   
   handwriting is *very* light (and has been for a few years now) the writing in   
   the diary was very dark, black ink on a white page, indicating some strength   
   in the penmanship.  Clarity 9-   
   ish.   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)