The Dream
Followed by The Interpretation
I’ve had some really crazy dreams lately. I’m not sure why, but they have all been memorable and a bit disturbing. One in particular I shared with my wife upon waking. It is political in nature, which is not my normal dreaming topic, but what can I do?
To be fair, I have had one other political dream, way back when I was just a kid. I dreamed that John F. Kennedy was not really dead, but basically, a vegetable in a wheel chair kept secretly in a really nice house. Believe me, I wasn’t a politically savvy kid, and I wasn’t up on conspiracy theories, but that is what I dreamed.
And then this dream came. I am going to share with you the dream in this post, and then the interpretation in another, which I will link at the end.
Interpreting dreams has a long and Biblical history, going back to Joseph and Pharaoh in Egypt. I do not suggest that my dream has such significance, but I will share that I have had other dreams, even waking dreams or visions, which have come true. So bear that in mind as you read this.
In my dream, I was at some sort of political soiree. It seemed to be on a cruise ship or at a resort. Lots of people crowded about, dancing and drinking, or huddled together in little clumps conversing with one another. Basically, one big party.
I was in a room, which had glass walls on all sides, and the party swirled around us, just beyond the glass. Inside, there was a smaller group, and in the center, the focus of everyone’s attention was a man lounging on a settee, surrounded by the small throng. I was with a man who was my father, although not the father I grew up with. He was hell-bent on talking with the man on the settee, and he pulled me along with him as he moved through the crowd. When he stood in front of the reclining man, he introduced himself, and then, dragging me forward, he introduced me to Donald Trump.
Yes, that was who was stretched out on the settee. Trump took my hand, and I remember that his hand was fat and very warm. He didn’t shake my hand, but just held it, and he spoke to me. I do not remember the words he said, but as I looked into his face, it transformed. At first, he looked just like the former president, but as he spoke to me, his face altered until he looked like someone else, a stranger whose face I did not recognize. It was strange because his hair stayed exactly the same, only his face changed.
Then he let go, excused himself, and left the room. As he left, one of his aides, part of his personal entourage, stepped back into the room holding a lit candle, a fat candle I think they refer to as a pillar. He held it high, and we all looked up at it. Then he said, “This should do,” and then he let go of the candle. As it fell from his hand, I looked down, and somehow I could tell that there was a heavy, oily gas clinging to the floor, distorting our feet. When the lit flame hit the gas, there was a powerful explosion, and I woke up with the distinct feeling that everyone in that room, myself included, had just been eliminated in a flash.
That’s it.
That’s the dream.
You can read the interpretation here.
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