September 21, 2018
In last night’s dream, I am with a group of people at possibly a book store or news stand type store where they sell magazines, periodicals and novelties. I don’t believe I know the people in the store as it seems we are all just passing through and by circumstance we all happen to meet here. There is a large box on the floor where they have placed all the out of date items. I see several copies of the Washington Blade. Believing these are probably throw-away items and therefore free I walk over to look for the most recent edition. The first edition I pick up and open it to the cover page but it no longer has the first page. A guy dressed in all yellow says to me as if he is aware of my thoughts, “That’s not the latest edition.” So I put the copy down and reach for another one which I identify as having all it’s pages.
The second one is complete and is the latest edition of the throw-away items in the box. I proceed to open the pages and notice all the pages are cut revealing an accordion of cut out characters emerging from the pages. I close it quickly not knowing what is happening to it and try again to open it. This time I open it slowly to see what the cut out are. As the pages unfold the cut out characters become two dimensional animated cut out of people. All the cut outs are white cream color with no writing or features merely cut outs. The guy next to me who is all yellow reaches in and pulls out a spinet piano from the pages of the blade. I am amazed because I recognize the piano as the one I had when I was a kid. The yellow man begins playing testing the keys and notices a problem. It is suspected there is a ball of poop in the pages so he is wanting to work around the poop to reconstruct his piano.
With the magazine in my hands I can feel a lump withing the pages still in my left hand. I hold the “poop” tightly and walk over to examine the piano. I lift the lid of the piano to reveal it’s keys and find one of the strings is broken. I tell the yellow man that the piano is so old one would expect a string to be broken but it can be easily repaired. While I’m talking to him still holding the “poop ball” within my hand it begins to squirm in my hand. I let go releasing the tightly held pages and opening the remaining pages of the magazine open. From within the ball emerge a bunch of tiny etheric people 10 times smaller than the cut outs previously. Each one a different color of the rainbow. There are blues, yellows, reds, purple, green. They remind me of little pieces of Play Doh. Now reconstituted they are jumping and playing with each other. When groups of different colors come together they become white and grey and beige then separating again into their individual color. Rainbow colors pulse through their tiny etheric bodies.