Dreamy Steven Spielberg

I just awoke and showered and had to write down the dream I had, lest I lose it.

I was working on the set of a Steven Speilberg film. He was working in collaboration with someone else, though I have no idea who that someone was. Anyhow, I was really close with one of the actresses and became very tied to those I worked with. The movie was set on a farm, so we were all in the country.

In the film, one of the main, most loveable characters is sitting alone in a dried out corn field of sorts and is killed by a large piece of farm machinery (possibly driven by her father). Apparently, it was a remake or something, because my sister Hope was familiar with the plot. She asked me why the girl didn't move when she heard it.

In quest for an answer, I spoke with Mr. Spielberg in a setting similar to Sarah's office/living room. I first told him "hi" from my sister and begged the question. The odd thing is that I feel as if I interrupted his answer, but whatever happened, I found out it was because it sounded like wind or it was just too familiar a noise to startle her.

My last days on the set, I got stamped (with some impermanent ink) on the left lower back with some weird insignia on it and lines on which to write. Mr. Speilberg signed it. I returned home and entered through the back door, only to see a crowd in my small backyard. Anna P. informed me that they were having a surprise party for me.

I took my time inside, before making my entrance. I told Hope that I had sought out her answer, and gave her what I now believed to have been an insufficient answer. I then had to use the restroom and decided to use the one on the front porch. I decided to shorten the trip by stripping my pants and going outside in underwear and a sweatshirt. Once outside, I saw John--Annabel's cousin who I rode home with last time (in all reality)--getting in his car down the block about to drive by. I was embarrassed and went into an inside bathroom.

When I finally went outside, the party had already begun and was met with random people. Anna P. asked if my "stamp" was a tattoo because she knew someone who wanted it, even if Steven Spielberg didn't sign it. I then ran into Reed in a place which looked like the student centre. I had gained much acclaim since my work on the film and he wanted to pair up and do some paintings/prints together.

This is about where the dream faded. All-in-all, bizarre, seeing as I have virtually no desire to work in film. Conversely, I've always held an esteem for Steven Spielberg.

Interpreter of Dreams

Today Mr. Bowman interpreted all the dreams I've been having (for those who don't know, I've been incredibly sick and taking all sorts of drugs, incurring vivid and strange dreams). He says that the dreams show that I'm facing a lot of change and that I'm not taking decision-making serious and rather am being silly and not caring about it. Also, they show I see Lincoln as a superhero.