Good morning, everybody.
I was in some rundown room, kind of like a cluttered workshop, hunched over a worktable and shuffling through some cards like business cards. My oldest nephew jumped up from behind me on my right side and huddled close by me. He slapped down a bunch of cards of his own and started asking me about them in a bullying kind of way.
I must have gotten jealous of my nephew's cards. I didn't know how he could have had just as many cards as I had. I suddenly had the idea that he had somehow stolen my cards from me. I'm not sure whether that was true.
My nephew stood up and walked down a hallway to another, smaller room which may have led to the exit of this building. I followed after him and caught and stopped him at the threshold of the smaller room. I accused him of having stolen my cards. My nephew was upset that I would have accused him of something like that.
My brother was suddenly behind me and my nephew. My brother started justifying my anger toward my nephew. He explained to my nephew how I was only looking out for him and trying to make sure he didn't get started down the wrong path in life by stealing things.
I started to feel guilty. I walked back to the workshop. I felt bad for having accused my nephew of stealing my cards. I knew I had had two or three stacks of cards. I now seemed to have one stack less, while my nephew had a really good stack. But that didn't necessarily mean my nephew had stolen anything.
I also felt bad about my brother. He was defending me to my nephew. But what right did I have to be defended, especially by my brother? I'd neglected my brother for all these years. And when we were kids, I'd gotten really mad at him and treated him terribly quite often.
I had probably just gotten off a flight, or possibly off a bus. I now walked into an area like a food court or a waiting area at a bus stop. The place was packed full of people. It seemed to be late at night.
My brother was waiting for me at a table. I sat at the table. I may have spoken with my brother for a bit. It was close to time for me to catch a connecting flight or bus somewhere. I was afraid I was going to miss the flight or bus. But something was keeping me at the table.
I started speaking about my past, about my life in New York. It made me really depressed to think about what potential I'd had and how I'd really blown it all. I hoped I wasn't sounding pompous and self-righteous in front of my brother. But I was sure I did.
My sister now sat in place of my brother. While I'd been speaking with my brother I felt like I was speaking more to myself. But my sister seemed to be more attentive to what I was actually saying.
My brother now walked up from behind me. Apparently my sister was smoking a cigarette. My brother started giving my sister a lecture about how she should stop smoking. He may also have started lecturing my sister on how she should do other things to lead a healthier life.
My sister felt ashamed and annoyed by what my brother said. She may have told my brother to shutup and mind his own business. My brother then tried to drag me into the lecture. He told my sister how much I'd agreed with everything he'd said when we'd had a chance to talk alone about this stuff.
I looked down at the table top. I was kind of annoyed that my brother would say something like that. I remembered the time my brother and I had had the chance to speak alone. My brother had complained nonstop about my sister. I'd just listened without saying anything one way or the other. Apparently my brother had thought that meant I'd agreed with him.
I was possibly looking at a series of photos, either online or in a book, for a museum like the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum. There was some exhibit for something like a space shuttle. Something about the exhibit was smoggy and obscure. It made me think that part of the exhibit included exhaust, as if the space shuttle made normal exhaust like car exhaust.
I thought about something regarding the exhibit for a little while. Then I looked back to the photos, which were now most likely online. In the place where the space shuttle exhibit had been was now a yellow room with a high-tech chair in the center. Jets from the ceiling shot down thin plumes of black-brown exhaust. I thought that this was an exhibit of the interior of a shuttle.
I was a little disappointed. This exhibit, I thought, was far less grand than the exhibit of the exterior of the space shuttle had been.
My disappointment may have caused me to continue (?) reflecting on what I'd been thinking about before: the fact that, if you aren't near the museums all the time, you're missing out on the most important things happening at the museums. The museums never show the best stuff online, I thought. They do that on purpose, so that people close to the museums can brag about having seen stuff other people didn't get to see.
I was now standing in the museum. The space was huge, very dim, with dark walls and carpet. The space was empty of both people and decoration.
I could hear something just around the corner. There was some video exhibit down the way. One video was projected onto a huge wall. Slow, kind of spooky, technological music accompanied the video. But the video was obscured by another wall. The wall hung from the ceiling and stopped about a meter or so from the floor.
I wanted to get past that wall and into the room with the video. But instead of walking I jumped up in the air and kick-pushed against the wall. I flew, in a swimming position, toward the room. I couldn't believe I was actually flying. I lost confidence in my ability to have continuous vision -- which would have implied the reality of my flight. My vision broke up.
I had flown into the room, apparently. The room was now bright, with yellow walls. It was full of people. Everybody may have been dressed in cosplay outfits. The room was apparently an exhibit celebrating cosplay culture. There were even cosplay artworks on the walls: masks that looked like ancient masks, but done in a bright, modern, cosplay style.
My view drifted clockwise around the room, finally settling on two women who were apparently my friends. The women were Asian, in their early twenties. They were being led, probably by an older, father-like figure, through some racks of clothes, as if part of this space were now a normal clothing store.
But one of the girls got distracted and came over to me. I was lying on a chair or couch. The girl straddled me. She wore jeans and a jean jacket. She showed me what she'd bought: a whole bunch of jean jackets.
I took two jean jackets and started playing with them like they were puppets, to amuse the girl, like she was a little girl. But then I got aroused by the girl and began fondling her legs and chest.