Good morning, everybody.
I was by myself in a big room. The room had a hexagonal or octagonal shape and was tiered or stepped up from the center. The room had purple carpeting. There may also have been televison monitors lining the top parts of the walls.
This place was probably some kind of party place. I was probably here with a group of friends. Each of us was preparing some kind of performance act. But the performance act would be performed in conjunction with some kind of computer or video game progran.
I didn't know what I was going to do. I thought I might sing something. But I didn't know what I would sing. I may have gone through a number of Japanese songs in my head, but I really didn't feel like I could sing them, or like I wanted to sing them.
On one of the computer screens I now saw the internet home page for a person with an adult baby fetish. The person may have been inviting me to be their friend. I then saw another website for an adult baby. This person was also inviting me to be their friend. For some reason I felt uncomfortable with this. I left the room so I could be away from the computer screen.
I was in another room, which also had an interesting shape and interesting colors, though I can't remember them now -- probably because I was surrounded by clutter and my vision was focused on things really close to me.
I had been having the melody or feeling of a classical rock song or power ballad in my head. I hadn't been able to figure out what it was. But it was really emotional. I liked it a lot and thought that if I could figure out what it was I'd sing that song for my performance piece.
Now the thought came to me that the song was "Stairway to Heaven," by Led Zeppelin. But when I thought about this I knew that wasn't right. But, I thought, Led Zeppelin was also emotional, and it had a good buildup, like whatever song I'd been thinking of. So I could go ahead and sing that song.
But, I thought, if I wanted to sing that song, I'd have to go back home to get the version of it I had on compact disc. I didn't have it here with me.
But now I realized that the computer screen I'd been seeing in the purple room, the one by which the adult babies had been inviting me to be their friends, was also a karaoke screen. Any good karaoke machine, I thought, would have Led Zeppelin on it. I'd just sing "Stairway" from the karaoke machine.
I now imagined a view of the screen for "Stairway." There was some video recording of a field full of tall, flowering grass on a summer day. Some hippie-like people may have been walking through the field. There were thick, yellow letters that would glitter onto, and then off of, the bottom of the screen as the lyrics of the song were to be sung.