June 13, 2019
In last night’s dream I am with a group of friends. We normally hang out and eat at a restaurant. I am feeling a bit disconnected from the group not really knowing what has been on the agenda or what they have been planning recently. It feels like I have been away for sometime.
I become aware of a person who has been stalking the group with very large arrows. The arrows are thick like walking sticks. I am heading over to meet the guys for lunch when the stalker comes into focus. He is a grown man, shirtless, with long darj hair. He sits on billowing clouds that look like cotton balls. He has what appears to be white cotton wings. He grabs for his bow and shoots an arrow in my direction but misses. Angered by his threat, I reach up and grab the arrow. I examine the arrow carefully. It has a white leathery sheath and twine which holds the sheath against the inner wood of the arrow. I notice the tip is a blunt rubber which could not kill or injure anyone. I look up at him and he looks at me. Wanting to communicate with him I hold his arrow up to him and break the arrow against my knee. The arrow breaks but the leather sheath keeps the arrow from coming apart.
I peak in the arrow and notice the arrow is reinforced with a strap much like you would have on a back pack to secure around your shoulders. I want to split the inner strap but without a pair of scissors it would be would be impossible to separate. The arrow is collapsed down in two pieces securely connected by the leather sheath, twine and straps.
I continue on my way looking around at what this angelic being has done to the neighborhood. What threats has he been placing in the community? I now see my dad who is a very young man. How did my dad get here if he is already passed away. I presume my mother must be here too.
Having been distracted for a while dealing with the Archer, I receive a message from my group requesting I join them for lunch at Teds Bulletin. How interesting to have been called. I feel wanted and desired. The group wants specifically to include me. I am a part of. Having always felt like a loner I am a touched by the invitation.
I head over to their table at the restaurant and look around for a seat to occupy. There are several men already here scattered among two rectangular tables. Should I sit on the end or in the middle? I am inclined to sit on the end but something tells me to look under the table. I do so and notice the men are wearing loose billowing shorts which barely hide their privates. Some are so scanty their privates are in full view. Feeling more at ease I decide to sit at center of the first table. I sit back relax and cross my legs and realize I too am exposing my privates. My shorts are a vibrant blue color and the prettiest shorts at the table but they don’t do a very good job of concealing my privates.