Blasphemy (Jim)
Dreams 11/23/2005
Wednesday, November 23rd, 2005 - (Job and Powerlessness)
“Trivializing Spirituality”
Yesterday I had actually considered writing my memoirs, as something I’d publish. Then I dreamed this last night:
My Memoirs have been published and I’m now part of a team producing a video game version of them. I’m defending my reasoning for creating a separate error module, to another programmer. I am also on my way to a support group I hold for people writing their own spiritual memoirs, but do not feel up to speed on how the corporation now teaches it is to be done. I feel lost leading the group. After work I then head out to the parking lot, which is a ways away, with a 7 year old, participant in the group. Turning the corner into our parking lot, we see a huge C-5 cargo plane armed to the hilt, with Arnold Swartzenager at the controls, aiming to blow us a away. He’s contracted by a terrorist group that’s furious at how the U.S. has commercialized religion. I shoot the plane before he can shoot us, which explodes, but Arnold remains standing as he drops through the collapsing floors of the plane, and he hits the ground running, after us, with a weapon. As we flee, I am separated from the boy, who, as he turns down a dark alley, is raped by the street people there.
Everything has felt so wrong with the job but I desperately need it to pay bills. I agree with the terrorists in principal but not in method. I now also blame myself for the boys rape, since he was with me. His rape was the last straw. I can’t work and I fear I’ll soon be fired. Confused I think my car was blown up too, and I worry how I’ll get to work and around, but it’s still unscathed in the parking lot. I don’t worry though about the terrorists, or take any precautions concerning them.
Wednesday, November 23rd, 2005 - (Job and Powerlessness)
“Trivializing Spirituality”
Yesterday I had actually considered writing my memoirs, as something I’d publish. Then I dreamed this last night:
My Memoirs have been published and I’m now part of a team producing a video game version of them. I’m defending my reasoning for creating a separate error module, to another programmer. I am also on my way to a support group I hold for people writing their own spiritual memoirs, but do not feel up to speed on how the corporation now teaches it is to be done. I feel lost leading the group. After work I then head out to the parking lot, which is a ways away, with a 7 year old, participant in the group. Turning the corner into our parking lot, we see a huge C-5 cargo plane armed to the hilt, with Arnold Swartzenager at the controls, aiming to blow us a away. He’s contracted by a terrorist group that’s furious at how the U.S. has commercialized religion. I shoot the plane before he can shoot us, which explodes, but Arnold remains standing as he drops through the collapsing floors of the plane, and he hits the ground running, after us, with a weapon. As we flee, I am separated from the boy, who, as he turns down a dark alley, is raped by the street people there.
Everything has felt so wrong with the job but I desperately need it to pay bills. I agree with the terrorists in principal but not in method. I now also blame myself for the boys rape, since he was with me. His rape was the last straw. I can’t work and I fear I’ll soon be fired. Confused I think my car was blown up too, and I worry how I’ll get to work and around, but it’s still unscathed in the parking lot. I don’t worry though about the terrorists, or take any precautions concerning them.
posted by LifeWriter at 5:20 PM
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