#138

I had a pretty stong dream just a second ago. I walked out of my room and there was Mike, a stepfather from long ago, father of one brother and one sister, sitting to my left in the living room in the big reclining chair. I want to say my mother was to my left and doing something but I didn’t really focus much on that. In the background the song ‘Welcome to the Machine’ was playing rather loud. Mike looked at me and I looked back at him and I looked him over. He was wearing a medium-heavy jacket that was all black with dark grays, reds and slivers making designs of people, things, and scenes all over the jacket. It was pretty dark. And over it all, there was gold trim, and there were gold letters superimposed over it all. Not just any letters, but they were in hebrew. I couldn’t read it, but I knew it was hebrew and I knew it was more than just that, I knew it was scripture; it was from the Bible and that there was more God in that than in most things. I could feel it and sense the significance of that jacket. I didn’t know what it represented or what it meant but I saw it as important.

The the song came in. “Welcome my son, welcome to the machine…Where have you been?…It’s alright we know where you’ve been.” Mike told me the song was really amazing, how powerful it was. It has a lot of something in it, I forget exactly what he said. I agreed, though, and we both closed our eyes and it was like we let ourselves go and both jumpted into the soundwaves and flew amongst the song, just absorbing, being one with the music and the song and forgetting all humanly things that have to do with the song. Then we came out and he smiled at me and I looked him over again, looking for the letters. The golden letters were gone. They were replaced by golden frames for each of the situations on the jacket. Then I woke up, jarred by the fact that I really wanted to focus on the letters, to understand them and see them more. I wanted to know what they meant.

I don’t remember them. It was strange, to be sure, that dream. It had a lot of things in it that reminded me of bigger, important things and it seemed to be telling me something, but it wasn’t as powerful as those dreams that actually DO try to be pushing me in a direction. Those lucid, breathtaking dreams are a totally different thing and I could count the occurances of those dreams on one hand. One told me to stick with Jacinta, I remember that. I forget what happened but I remember one of the things I’m supposed to do is stick with her. This dream wasn’t one of those. It wasn’t that strong. It was like a normal dream, but with someone trying to slip a little extra in it to keep me focused. I wonder if God is as much in my dreams as in my streetlights, trying to keep me focused, trying to help me stay on top of things and stable. I haven’t been doing the best lately…so maybe it was an attempt to help keep me focused. Mmm…that’s really what it felt like, like someone was trying to snap me back to religion and faith since my golden, so-important letters and focus on the faith has been faltering, changing, and rather have been put into framing up the past, and more importantly, the present, more prettily…to make it better to look at, to make it more tolerable, just like the jacket. I need to come back to the faith, I think. I need to focus more on that and not just making it through the day with a smile and in a good mood. I can force a smile on my face all day, I can even put myself into good moods if I try hard enough. That’s not enough, I need to remember why I’m smiling and what I’m trying to do; I need to remember my letters. I have to remember my letters, they’re far more precious, far more important. I think that’s what the dream meant.

I wonder, though. Was that me telling myself that’s what I needed to do? Was it the small piece of God in me taking an average, unimportant dream and putting something so important in it?

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Welcome my son, welcome to the machine.
Where have you been?
It’s alright we know where you’ve been.
You’ve been in the pipeline, filling in time,
Provided with toys and ‘Scouting for Boys’.
You bought a guitar to punish your ma,
And you didn’t like school, and you
know you’re nobody’s fool,
So welcome to the machine.

Welcome my son, welcome to the machine.
What did you dream?
It’s alright we told you what to dream.
You dreamed of a big star,
He played a mean guitar,
He always ate in the Steak Bar.
He loved to drive in his Jaguar.
So welcome to the Machine.