the sixth child; adult baby and the fetish church

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was night. I was out in some place like an empty dirt lot, like a parking lot for a desert fairgrounds. But something about it also felt like it was indoors, like we were in a living room or a waiting room with a lot of couches.

I was with a group of kids. They may have been young children, or they may have been teenagers with the mentality of young children. We had all finished up with some kind of project. Now we were headed away.

But for some reason we all stopped. I felt like our having stopped would probably lead to some of the kids getting impatient. We'd all gotten through our task well. I, as the leader or organizer of this event, didn't want to have people get impatient and start having bad memories about our task. But I also felt like one of the kids might probably start feeling bad, thinking it had been his fault that we had stopped.

I turned around to find the boy I thought might feel bad. The light all around us was now dim green and blue, like dim lights, like fluorescent lights from over building doors, were shining from somewhere nearby.

The boy stood bathed in the light. He was doing some weird move with his face, where he was kind of juggling his eyeglasses on his face, kind of balancing them on his nose. I now understood that we'd all stopped because some of the other boys had noticed this boy doing this trick. The boys had wanted to point out, possibly to me, if not simply just to point out in general, that the boy had this talent.

But for some reason I felt bad about the boy performing like this. I felt like maybe the boy was performing only to make me less impatient, like I'd acted frustrated because we'd stopped and I personally had needed something to divert me from my frustration.

But now the other boys were showing their talents. All the boys' talents were similar to the first boy's talents. The boys were all juggling or swinging or swirling things about. One boy had some black glop he was juggling around on his face. Another boy had a thin, multicolored, neon string that he swung around.

One of the boys pointed out something like the fact that everybody has a talent, and that times like this, waiting times, when motion has stopped, are great times to practice talents. But something still made me feel like these talents were all being shown to me as a way of keeping me personally from getting impatient while our movement was stopped.

Now we were by a building, or at least by a tall, wide wall. Green fluorescent lamps hung from the wall. My brother-in-law sat with his back against the wall. My view of him was obstructed by some of the boys, who were running around, practicing their talents almost as if they were part of some dance or religious ceremony.

My brother-in-law was talking about his kids' homework. He then jokingly asked if I thought he should be extra diligent with making sure ----- got her homework done. I didn't quite catch what my brother-in-law said, and I only half-responded to it.

My brother-in-law saw that I didn't get his joke. He seemed a little ashamed that I hadn't gotten it. He might have thought I was angry with what he'd said, or he might have thought I hadn't cared enough to listen to what he'd said.

But now the spaced between us was clearing out. I could see my brother-in-law clearly. I thought he'd tell the joking comment again. But he didn't: he just explained who the subject of the joke was. The subject was a little girl, just a baby, and my sister's and brother-in-law's youngest child. My brother-in-law was, in fact, holding the little baby in a swaddling blanket in his arms.

I now saw the joke. The baby obviously didn't have any homework. My brother-in-law had just joked that, while he was being so diligent with all the other kids, he might go overboard and even make the little baby do homework as well.

But I was still a little confused. I didn't know where this little baby, which would have been my sister's and brother-in-law's sixth child, had come from. I definitely couldn't remember the baby girl's name.

Dream #2

I was in a car, going down the road at night. I may have been driving the car, but I may have been in the passenger's seat. I was riding along a rut in the right side of the road, constantly almost veering off the road and onto a shoulder of brown-red, desert soil.

I either knew about or was having a conversation (either in my head or with someone -- my mom? -- who sat in the driver's seat) about a church that accepted gay people. The church may actually have had the phrase "Gay Church" in its name.

I started thinking about this Gay Church. It occurred to me that the church wasn't just for gay people. It was a church, a Christian church, that actually celebrated all kinds of alternative sexualities. I had the feeling that it was actually a fetish church rather than a gay church.

I began visualizing the sanctuary of a church my family had attended when I was nine or ten years old. The sanctuary was huge. I visualized all kinds of people dressed up to represent their various fetishes. Some people were dressed normally. But other people were in things like full-body-and-head latex suits, and other people were on leashes.

I thought how it might be fun for me to go to church as an adult baby. I could dress up as a baby and wear a diaper. Maybe I could even be pushed into the church by my Mommy (whoever that would be...) and suck on a pacifier.

But I kind of got turned off by the idea. I wondered if I wouldn't just look stupid. Something about the clothes I visualized myself wearing looked girlish, but clunky, boyish, and cheap -- stupid and shameful. I didn't want to dress up as a baby if that was the best I could do!

I also worried about who would push me in. If a boy had to be my AB parent, I didn't want to do it.

I also worried about what other people would think of me. Even though the church accepted all kinds of fetish, maybe people just looked down on adult babies and thought they were gross. If so, I didn't want to go in and be seen that way by people.

But it now seemed to me that I didn't have much choice. I may have been getting driven to the church right now. I may also have been dressed up as a baby, ready to get pushed into the church of fetish. I may no longer have been driving the car. I may have been in a car seat, sucking on a pacifier, while my AB Mommy or Daddy was driving the car.

wearing friend's panties; mom accuses me; devil takes over me; creditors harass me

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a room like an exhibit room in a museum. The room was dim, with rough, cream-colored walls. The room was divided into two sections, in an L-shape. At the joint of the rooms there was a huge stack of stuff, like boxes. Among the boxes may have been glass and wood museum display cases and cabinets.

I had been crouching on the floor, my back turned at about a 45-degree angle to the piles of stuff. But I now stood and turned toward the piles. My old boss and very good friend EB stood on the other side of the piles. Apparently my job had to do with sorting out these piles. I spoke with EB a little bit about some of my older jobs. EB listened sympathetically with me, possibly agreeing that there had been good parts and bad parts to my old jobs.

I now turned away from the piles of stuff and toward a conveyor belt, which lay on the opposite side of the room. A young woman also stood at the conveyor belt. Our job may have been to take and sort things which came toward us along the conveyor belt. Or it may have been to take things, sort them, and put them on the conveyor belt.

The woman and I spoke for a moment, then turned toward the conveyor belt. As we did so, three boxes, kind of like cake boxes, slid up toward me. The boxes were a little bit open, and I could see that stacks of well-folded lingerie were in each box.

The young woman told me she had put those boxes together for me. She had a bunch of extra lingerie, and she couldn't keep it at her house anymore. Since she knew I liked lingerie, she thought she'd either give or loan me the lingerie. That way I could hold onto the lingerie for safe keeping, but I could also enjoy it. I think the girl liked me, and was turned on by the fact that I liked wearing lingerie. So she may have been hoping that she could see me wearing her lingerie.

I took the boxes of lingerie and walked them to my room (which was now, conveniently, adjacent to the room I was standing in). I sat the boxes of lingerie on my bed.

I knew the woman and I were in kind of a rushed situation, and that I should get back to work as soon as possible. But when I saw some of the lingerie, I felt like I had to try it on. I opened a box and pulled out a few pairs of panties. One pair of panties was pink satin, in a bikini style. I took off my pants and underwear and put on those panties. I may also have taken off my shirt, thinking I'd put a camisole on instead.

I may actually have gone to the bathroom at some point. I may have gotten an erection before or while I was urinating. So now my erection was pressing up against my panties, and there was a little drop of urine wetting the panties.

I now really felt I needed to get back to work. So I stood up and pulled on my pants, which were now dull-green shorts that went down to just below my knees. The shorts rode a little low, so that the waistline of my panties were visible. I walked back out toward the conveyor belt, trying to put my shirt back on in a hurry, so that the workers other than the young woman wouldn't see the waistline of my panties.

The room the conveyor belt was in was a lot larger and airier than it had been before. The room may even have been open somehow to the outdoors. As I reached the conveyor belt, I was still working to put my shirt on. I was standing right in front of the young woman. I could tell that she could see the waistline of my panties. But her reaction was kind of silent. I couldn't really tell what the woman thought of me.

Dream #2

I was in a large room where a presentation was about to be given. The room was full of people. The room was small, like a side room, or a choir's dressing room, at a church. But the room was decorated so that it looked like a small mock-up of a church sanctuary. The room was rectangular. Folding chairs were all set out to face one of the wide walls, with a stage-like area before it that looked like a flowery altar.

I walked up to the seats and sat down. The seats were now almost completely full. I'd saved a seat right next to me with a pamphlet, and maybe a Bible. I was expecting my mom to arrive at any moment. But now the presentation -- something like a business presentation -- had begun, and my mom was nowhere to be seen. I tried to listen to the presentation, but I was a little anxious about my mom.

Suddenly my mom and sister walked into the room. They stomped up behind me. My mom whispered over my shoulder and into my ear, "Do you want me to be a bitch?" I was a little shocked by this. Apparently my mom and sister were angry with me. I couldn't figure out why. My mom sat down in a seat separated by a meter or two from the rest of the seats. My sister may have left the room, as if she were going to take care of some kind of business against me.

I was trying to figure out what could have made my mom so upset with me. I stood up and walked away from the seats. At first I may have been planning to leave the room. But then I got the distinct idea that my mom and sister were planning something against me, using something about internet usage as evidence of my guilt regarding something.

I turned back toward my mom. She now seemed to weigh about twice as much as she does in waking life. She was wearing a turquoise sweater. She may have said or communicated in some other way that she was, in fact, planning to get me in trouble with the law based on something on the internet. I didn't do whatever she was going to claim I'd done on the internet. But she was going to make it look like I had done it.

I knelt down in front of my mom. I may even have rested my chin against something -- like a huge binder? -- that rested on my mom's lap. I may even have rested my chin on my mom's stomach. I whispered to my mom, "Don't you dare try anything like that against me, Mom. I have a lot of support. There are people who are willing to stand up for me. And I've kept in contact with them. They know what I've done. And they can back me up."

I could now see that my mom was backing down from whatever plans she'd had against me. But now that she was backing down, I was starting to feel guilty. I still didn't know what I'd done to make her so angry with me. I would never have tried purposely to hurt my mom's feelings.

Dream #3

It was a sunny day. I was out in some space like a football field for some high school in a mountain town. Around the field, at least beyond one end zone and the left side of the field, were short cliffs and then tall, wooded slopes.

I may have seen or somehow known that the goalposts at the end zone were secretly missile launchers. At the top of each pole in the goalpost was a tiny canister, shaped almost like a battery. This canister was a miniature nuclear missile. I knew that there were also larger nuclear missiles somewhere in this area, maybe underneath the field itself.

There were now pick-up trucks parked out on the football field, like the football field was supposed to be a parking lot. I was having a conversation in my head with one of my old bosses and mentors, JS. I was telling JS that it was a lot of stress and responsibility always having to know about the status of the nuclear missiles. JS agreed with me. I may have been talking about everything as if I were planning to leave this nuclear missile job, or as if I had already left it some time ago.

As I continued to discuss the stress of the job with JS, I may have gotten onto the topic of keeping a steady mind. There were especially times when this was important, such as when one went into a reverie or dream state.

I found myself falling into one of these states right now. In this reverie state I met with two characters whose faces were really unstable. One had really cartoony eyes. Whenever this guy got upset, his eyes would waver about, like some kind of animation made with pastel crayons. Another guy's whole head would become all blurry and shaky in a really scary way.

I understood that these guys were playing these tricks with their appearance as a way to throw my spirit off balance. I was guarding some important secrets, and I was in control of whatever powers the secrets concerned. If the guys could throw me off balance, they thought, they could get control of the powers.

I managed to resist those characters and wake myself up from that reverie state. But I almost immediately fell back into another reverie state. I first found myself walking up one of the cliffs. But I then found myself walking up a wooden staircase in some mansion or cathedral.

I met with a man who basically said he was the  Devil. He tried to take over my mind, rather directly, without playing any games. He was trying to get into me so he could directly control my identity. I had to fight -- somehow -- to keep this character out of my mind. I managed to keep the character out of my mind.

I woke out of this reverie state in some short, shallow-arched tunnel. I was leaning against the concrete wall on the right side of the tunnel, looking out toward some area like a beach. I was rather proud of myself for having fought against the character I'd just fought against. I felt like it had taken a lot of strength.

I walked out of the tunnel. There was some space like an amphitheater: a kind of plaza of tiered concrete. On some of the concrete tiers there were occasional aluminum benches. Just beyond the amphitheater area was a beach or the ocean or a wide, wide field.

Scattered throughout the amphitheater were some young men and women. We were all friends or students or co-workers. We were planning to do something together here. Whatever we were doing may have had something to do with the secret the reverie-characters were trying to get out of me.

Just as the young men and women were deciding to go away from the amphitheater and start taking care of things, I felt my identity shift. I could feel the Devil character taking over my personality. I didn't even care. I thought it was kind of nice. I had the idea that I, now the Devil character, would get close to each young man and woman and take aware their own identities, just like my identity had been taken away. I was very blissful about this, and it all made me want to act very kindly toward the young men and women.

But as I made a few attempts to take the young men's and women's identities away, the young men and women began to suspect who I was. I got afraid of being discovered outright. So I decided to pull back a bit and find a slower way of seducing the young men's and women's minds.

There were a few young men and women standing around and on a long bench. I began playing around on the bench, like I was doing lazy gymnastics moves, while talking about the science and history of transistors and computers. People seemed to be interested in this. I was still feeling rather scared and anxious, trying not to give away who I really was, and hoping to calm down people's suspicions. As I spoke, my voice may even have quivered a little bit, like I was a little kid who was really eager to please and impress.

Dream #4

I was walking on a concrete path in the lawn of a courtyard of "my apartment complex." I may have been trying to take care of something, like paying my rent. But I also knew I was in a lot of financial trouble. I wasn't sure, from day to day, or moment to moment, whether I'd actually have my rent money in the bank. Some creditor, possibly out to get my overdue student loan payments, could actually have found a way to take all the money out of my bank account.

I walked into a hallway leading up to the landlord's office. Along the left wall of the hallway were everybody's mailboxes. I opened up my mailbox and pulled out my mail. There was a lot of junk mail that looked like it was actually important mail. I had to look at it a couple times to make sure it wasn't actually important mail.

I also found some mail from me on the floor or on a chair across the hallway from the mailboxes. I looked through that mail, too. It was like the postal worker had set that mail there instead of in my box because he thought I was going on some long vacation and that I wouldn't be back for a while. It was like laying the mail on the floor was more secure, for longer periods, than laying the mail in my box.

As I approached the landlord's office, I noticed that one of the pieces of mail I thought was junk mail was actually mail from a creditor. A creditor had, in fact, been sent after me for my student loan payments. I now owed a whole bunch of money. It wasn't just all the money that would have gone to my rent: it was a whole lot more money than I even had. I stood frozen at the threshold of my landlord's office -- the office had nobody in it -- wondering what the heck I was supposed to do with myself now.

my own private quilp; searching for a presentation

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in the living room of an apartment. But it was also like I was in a doctor's office. The office was my mother's office, as if my mom were a Doctor.

Somebody buzzed into our apartment from outside of the apartment building. I knew it was an annoying, little man. He had an appointment with the Doctor. But I also knew that he always came here, and that every time he came here, he came up with a new reason to complain about the service he received from the receptionist.

Today I was acting as receptionist, even though I usually didn't even have a role within the office. Acting as the receptionist, I got really afraid of what the man might do this time. I tried to have everything arranged so that the man would have absolutely nothing to complain about. And the first thing I'd do would be to buzz the man into the apartment and open the door for him as promptly as possible.

I was sitting on the floor. I had to stand up and press a button near the front door. I quickly did so. But as soon as I pressed the button to let the man into the apartment building, the man bashed in the door of the actual apartment! He was only about waist-high to me. He was bald, with a wide, misshapen head and huge eyes. He was dressed in a nice business casual shirt and khaki slacks.

The man looked angrily at me. But I could tell he was really getting enjoyment out of the whole situation. I knew he had been waiting right at the door, hoping I'd think he was downstairs, just so he could surprise me by being upstairs. I felt completely out of control of the situation. I felt totally defenseless against the man. And he loved it.

Dream #2

I was at some event, probably with one of my family members, maybe my mom or my sister. The event was being held in a large building, something like a modern church, with a lot of hallways and stairways leading to a few major (but not very big) lobbies and auditoriums.

I and the person I was with had something to do with the event, either the running or the organizing of it. But the turnout for the event was kind of disappointing. We walked up a stairway and into a lobby area where a white man with copper-tan skin and red-blonde hair was giving a presentation to a scattered, but kind of densely packed, group of people. The presentation was being given just outside an auditorium that had doors like the doors to a sanctuary.

I and the other person may have understood that we had something to do with the presentation, or with a presentation somewhere. We may have gone in search of something to do with whatever presentation we had something to do with. We wandered through a number of hallways, and maybe even a couple of small rooms, like Sunday school rooms, which may also have had a decent number of people in them.

We ended up in a lobby-like area, one wall of which curved out, like bay windows, with a wall of windows. The curving-out space was bounded on the opposite side (forming an ellipse or football shape) by a series of green, carpeted steps which could also serve as seats, so that this area was like a mini-auditorium with the window walls as a backdrop.

A presentation was going to begin here in just a few moments. But now I saw, outside the building, my nephews and niece walking down onto a series of concrete seat-steps that mirrored the seat-steps inside the building. There was a show about to begin outside as well. But before the show began, some person was down on the "stage," showing off two or three of his dogs.

I wanted my nephews and niece to see me, so I stealthily crawled up to the window-wall, hiding behind one of the dogs outside the window. I then popped my head up from behind the dog just in time for my nephews and niece to see me. Only one or two of them saw me. They screamed, "Preemie!" They may even have tried coming up to the window.

The show outside was now beginning. A Pastor-like man was beginning to speak. I didn't really want my nephews or niece to see me now, now that the presentation was starting. But it was right at this moment that all my nephews and niece saw me. They all screamed, "Preemie!" They ran toward the window. I felt really bad. I hadn't consciously wanted to cause a disruption. And I was kind of embarrassed by what was going on. But I also kind of liked the fact that my nephews and niece wanted to give me so much attention.

driving to texas; movie-concert work farewell; hotel policeman

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I had just been part of some situation where somebody had been trying to tell someone else how far away one point in Texas was from another point. The person telling this had been lazy and wrong. I thought to myself that all he'd had to do was show a couple of points on a map and figure out things that way.

I was now figuring out the distances between the towns myself. One town was in south central Texas. The other town was on the east border of south Texas. I was looking at these two towns from a map. But the map took up my entire field of view. It felt like I was flying over the map, looking down on some actual landscape, even though it looked just like a map.

I kept flying over the border of Texas, spotting three towns that lay right on the border. One was San Martin. I forgot the name of the second one, which was farther south. The one farthest south was named Moon.

I was now with somebody else, a young man, tall, roundly muscular, with a mostly-shaved head. We were apparently driving to the town on the border of Texas. I knew that the town was 683 miles away.

We spoke about driving. As we did I saw our destination, or one of our destinations, in the distance. It was a small down at the distant end of a straight highway. The sky behind the town was purple and dim from sunset. There also seemed to be some kind of stone bluff that was taller than any building in the town. Or else this stone bluff may actually have been the hotel building where we were staying.

We were now in the hotel. It must have been night. We didn't have many lights on in the bedroom of the hotel. Only light from the bathroom shone into the bedroom. We were probably getting ready for bed or getting up and getting ready for the day.

But now a man from the hotel came in. He was tall, thin, with longish, blonde-brown hair and a receding hairline. He wore a white shirt and a red vest. The man told us that he needed us to move out of this room into another room. There were some kind of important people, the man explained, who needed the room we were in.

He told us that people had either moved out of or been kicked out of the other room. Everybody else in the hotel thought, because of the people who'd been in that room, that the room was really bad. But, the hotel man said, the room was really the best room in the hotel. The man was keeping this secret for us, if we would be so kind as to move.

The man I was with didn't have a problem with moving. But I did. Apparently I had to go somewhere for work. I was actually getting ready to go there right now. I had to be to a meeting at 10 AM. And that was right in the middle of the time when I needed to be to the meeting.

I was slinging on a suit jacket as I thought to myself that, after all, the man I was with could move all our stuff into the other hotel room. Or the hotel people could do it. But I didn't trust things either way. As long as I couldn't be here to see things getting moved, I couldn't trust that something wouldn't get lost. I really didn't want to move, even if we did get a better room.

Dream #2

I was at a movie theatre. It was gigantic. It was all dark, with almost a feeling that we were outside on a dark night -- possibly just because the place was so huge. The seats of the theatre were all set, in huge sections, at different angles. My section was set so that my left side faced the movie screen.

I had probably just finished watching one movie. Now another movie was set to begin. I didn't have a ticket to watch this movie. But I figured that if I just stayed in my seat, I could watch the second movie without getting caught.

Now it was like the second movie was a movie I had been here to see all along. I was really excited for it. But as I sat waiting, two women came into my row of seats and sat down to my left. The two women were maybe in their thirties, kind of attractive, but a little worn out looking, and a little boisterous and crude.

The women may have been talking about the show. Apparently the show was either a concert or a movie about a concert. The band "in concert" was some new rock band that the women were in love with. The band had a punky but smart sensibility. I didn't like that type of music. But I think I convinced myself I liked them. Otherwise, I reasoned, I wouldn't be here.

The woman closest to me tossed a bunch of boxes into the seat between her and me. The boxes were bulky and blocked my view of the screen. But the woman didn't seem satisfied with that. She began pushing the boxes -- and something on top of the boxes -- at me, crowding me out of my own chair.

I moved away. I sat on my seat's armrest. I think I even moved over to the next seat to my right. But by that time, I may have been to the aisle. I couldn't go any farther.

I figured this was enough. I was tired of being crowded out by the women. I was going to leave. I was now walking away. I was outside, on a long, straight road through a small town in the desert. It was daytime. There were a lot of cars out on the road. Now I was regretting not having stayed for the show. I remembered that maybe, after all, the band was good.

I could now hear the beginning of the movie, as if I were still close enough to the theatre to hear the movie. The band had just come out on stage. They said they were going to do a cover version of the Beatles song "Love Me Do."

The person who had introduced the band onto the stage said something like, "Oh, that's actually one of the hardest Beatles songs to cover. Good luck, guys."

But I remembered that the band had done the cover pretty well. I could now hear the song in my head. It sounded like "Love Me Do," but with the soft-punky sound of the band. I thought it was okay.

I was walking for just a moment through the neighborhood I'd lived in when I was in high school. I may have been looking at my phone. My sister was asking me a lot of personal information. I didn't want to give it to her. I felt like she would use it in bad ways.

I had then come into an office building. I was in a big hallway that seemed to curve around some large auditorium. The hallway was white with grey carpeting and fluorescent light. It felt like a hallway inside a new church building to me.

At some point a man told me that I'd better get ready, because everybody was going to be moving out of this building pretty soon. Possibly a tall, slim, black woman told me the same thing. The woman was like some kind of important secretary. The man, whom I saw somewhere, was an IT person. He was tallish, fattish, and bald, with red-brown hair on the sides of his head and a red-brown mustache.

I curved around into some slanted area like a coat closet that actually connected the hallway I was in to another hallway. I turned right down that other hallway, walked down, and found myself in some kind of lobby area with a group of office workers.

I had been thinking about what the IT man had said. A lot of these guys were IT guys. They spoke to me about where the IT operations for the company were going to move. Most of it, they said, would be in a building different from the building I was going to. They mentioned some cities.

I asked about a couple IT people, as if I were trying to confirm that they'd done something for me in the past. But the others said I had the wrong people. They told me the name of the man who had actually helped me. They then told me either that that the man was no longer with the company or that he was going to be moving really far away.

Dream #3

I had come from somewhere else and had now arrived in a hotel room, which was also set up as an office. The "office" side of the room was just a wall-length desk with two computers on it. The room was mostly dark, with just the glow of the computer screens and the incandescent light from some other room lighting the place.

I was probably working here with a pretty, black woman. But right while we were in the middle of some project, "my boss" came in. He was an old man, kind of gruff looking, with blonde hair and a mustache.

The man began giving us some speech which implied that he suspected me of something. He thought I was a bad person who was waiting for just the right moment to do something bad. I think he was just waiting for a reason to get rid of me.

The man now began giving us some kind of justification for his feelings. He said he'd worked for years as a SWAT team member or some kind of special operations guy. He got to know the signs of a bad person.

The man then began telling us stories of how he'd have to talk down people who'd finally gone bad. The man said that he'd really been aiming to shoot the people dead all along. But you had to go through a whole protocol before you could finally kill the guy.

The man stood before us, re-enacting a scene. It now seemed like the man was wearing heavy SWAT team gear. He seemed to be a bit younger, but also a lot more wrinkled and worn out. His hair was a whole lot thinner, but a lot longer. And his eyes were frantic and bugged-out. He may have been holding a rifle.

The man told us how he'd balance legal phrases intended to calm down the target with a manner of speech calculated to frighten the target and make him jumpy. The man said, "I'd keep telling the creep, 'Put down your gun! You're alright! Put down your gun!' But, really, I was just egging him on. I wanted him to lift his gun, so I could blow his head off!"

The man seemed so frantic by this point in time that I could hardly bear looking at him. But now there was the sound of sirens. I turned around and looked toward the curtained window of the hotel room. I could see full, grey daylight coming in dimly below the bottom fringe of the curtain. I was waiting to see the flashing lights accompanying the sirens.

The man or the woman may have said that the cops were finally here, that the man had been planning all along to have me arrested, and that I'd now finally given him a reason to have me arrested.