There was a dank basement with several unfinished rooms where we were going to stay--me and two other young people, one male, one female. (I was young in this dream, or starting school again, but with my entire experience intact, somehow). I tried going around the other way, but met my two companions in the same place I was before. This was, apparently, "graduate school." I explained to the other two individuals that graduate school was traumatic because of its very nature, not as an accidental by-product. It seemed hard that we would have to spend several years in this dungeon-like space.
There were words written in the dust down there. They were misspelled words of insult, like aweful. These words were going to be used somehow in an action against trump. They were either the words he would use against us, or vice-versa, and this would come out in some hearing or experiment.
1 comment:
Hm - maybe this is my problem, it was not traumatic, it was great.
Working in academia after that, though, has been mega trauma. I did a card reading the other day which said that I still must get from it all the things you get from a mega love relationship. They've always said that, the cards. I am to squeeze it for what is not there. I am to insist it love me back. This goes against what all the standard advice is, jobs will not love you back. I have to write a post about this but I am too busy reading so I am writing this comment instead.
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