Good morning, everybody.
I was falling through the atmosphere of a planet or moon. I may have thought of it as our moon. I was probably in a spaceship with a few other people, possibly family members, or maybe friends. I was definitely talking with other people. But I also felt like my body itself was actually falling through the atmosphere.
The atmosphere of the planet was a kind of pale red. The land below seemed to be rather desert, and of a whitish color, tinged in places with a pale orange red. There were clouds here and there, and the overall feeling of the atmosphere was rather hazy.
We had come here under the assumption that we were the first people on this planet. But now, as we descended, I saw another craft lifting off from the planet. It looked like an old rocket. But it was lifting off with the entire launch frame still attached to it!
I shouted out to my companions that another ship had gotten here first. This seemed like really bad news. I had the feeling this was a Russian spaceship. But now I was starting to question the time period I was in. Based on the looks of the ship, I now felt like perhaps we were in the 1960s or 1970s. It seemed odd that we were exploring other planets on such a scale at that early a time.
We reached the surface of the planet. At this point my view felt like my body itself was flying along just above the surface of the planet. Other people, some of them children, probably all of them "my family members," were around me, sitting about or walking about at a leisurely pace. Yet we were all involved in some kind of scientific project.
I still felt like we were on the moon, or on some other planet. But now I also had the feeling that we were actually on earth, following some kind of nuclear war. I may have felt that my group had something to do with either preventing the attack or retaliating against the attackers. But I felt like we'd been too late. I also felt like my group had to get out of here pretty soon. The radiation was too strong for us to stay here for so long.
I was in some situation where I was around a few other people who thought they were dressed up. But their clothes were kind of old and tattered. I was dressed the same way. But then at some point I was dressed in really nice clothes. I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. I didn't want people to think badly of me because I was dressed nicely.
I was then in a classroom. There were probably two other people in the classroom with me: an older man and a younger woman. It may have been night. The classroom may have been lit with fluorescent light. I was sitting at a desk. The man and woman may have been walking around. They seemed to be focused on me for some reason.
I had two books. I wasn't really reading either one. I was having trouble deciding between which book to read. So I'd go back and forth, not really accomplishing anything in either book.
One of the books had a Philip K. Dick kind of attitude, but it was a bit more literary, more surreal, and less science fictiony. It had a cover like the big paperback versions of the Bollingen edition of Jung's works, with the white cover, black lettering, and thin-lined, broad, colored lettering. The other book was a hardcover book, bound like a standard edition of the classics. It was some kind of Dickensian style novel.
I may then have gone back to whatever situation I'd been in before, where my dress was the same as, then much better than, the dress of the people around me.
There was some talent show in an Asian country, possibly Malaysia. There were a number of kids getting ready for the talent show. But a few of the kids had gotten distracted from the show by the drama of their own personal lives.
At one point some little boy had gone missing. A little girl had gone out at night to look for the boy. The little girl walked through the business area of the small town she lived in. The business area was an interesting mix of modern roads, modern lighting, and kind of old, wooden buildings. The buildings almost reminded me of the Old West in the United States.
The little girl was walking along a gutter. She passed a little outfit that looked like a little bumblebee costume a girl might wear. But it was pink and black, instead of being yellow and black. The costume even had gauzy, pink wings. But it just lay on the ground, like some kind of shed shell.
The little girl may have taken the empty costume to mean that the other little girl (instead of a little boy?) she had been looking for had given up on the talent show. But she also took it to mean that the other little girl had actually gone back, or tried to go back, to the talent show to do something really good. The girl still may have felt she had to find the other girl, so she could help her find her way back.
But now a couple of girls, more like teenagers than little girls, had come back to their house. They were of a somewhat wealthy family in the town. They needed their father to come to the talent show for some reason. But the father was a little cold-hearted, and he was refusing to go to the talent show.
The teenage girls were now trying to get the father to open up his heart. The father had some emotional issues to deal with. If he didn't deal with them, he'd possibly mess everything up for the talent show.
The father was now standing in a big room on his estate. The room was as big as a cafeteria in a small school. It had red tile floors and white, stucco-like walls. It was completely empty of furniture.
The father was facing my view (as if my view were a camera), speaking to somebody outside my field of view. The father had dark, coppery skin, a broad, slightly wrinkled and baggy face, and wide, dark eyes. He had short, feathery hair, black and grey. He had a little bit of a belly, and he wore a darkish blue robe with faint, black stripes running down it.
The father was telling the person outside my field of view, "I don't have any problems. I'm completely fine." This was bad news. If he didn't admit his problems soon, the talent show would be ruined.
But now a group of people were introduced into the room, possibly by two other daughters or possibly by the two daughters who'd first come for the father. The group of people were attendants and family of another older man. This man was very important to the father's life. He may have been important for business reasons. But he may also have been something like the father's father-in-law.
Seeing to this person took precedence over everything else. The father called to his servants. There was a door on the right side of the room the father stood in. The people had probably come in through a door on the left side of the room.
The father had servants open the right door, which was thick and heavy, made of dark wood. I knew that beyond the door was another large room, this room also looking a bit like a cafeteria or restaurant. The front end of the room was the living area, although it was a lot like a seating area for a restaurant. The back area of the room, just a narrow part of the room, was lit by a huge overhead window. It was just large enought to accommodate a long, narrow, table of thick, heavy wood.
The father, still in the first room, called to the servants first to arrange for the bed linens for the guest. The father commanded the servants to have two or three changes of bed linens. This was very important.
The father then commanded the servants to have coffee prepared for the guest every morning, as soon as the guest woke. The father then commanded the servants always to be on call in the kitchen for the guest. The guest may have had his own kitchen, which was attached to the second room.
The second kitchen was to be stocked from the first kitchen with a little bit of every kind of food the guest could want. And the servants were, every morning, gently to insinuate to the guest that he might do well to eat. They might make suggestions to the guest as to what kind of food would be good for him. But this was only to gague whether the guest wanted to eat. As soon as the guest was ready to eat, though, the servants were to make for him whatever he wanted.