Notebook Face

In real life, I'm sleeping in a strange bed in a strange apartment. It's my brother James' place, so it's not that strange, but it's in the vast suburban expanse of Temecula (sp?) so it's pretty strange after all.

In the dream: I may be on a boat or a nice hotel. There's a guy with black pants and a red shirt that I for some reason want to impress. He's someone who can do something for me career wise. There are many people milling about. It's some kind of party or dance. I only get to say hello to red shirt guy briefly.

I'm sleeping on the floor in a strange room, still on the boat or in the hotel. Antonio, my nephew is also on the floor, sleeping by the door. My sweetheart, Bryna, is in the bed. It sounds as if Antonio is messing with the door and I tell him to knock it off. I notice the door is open a crack, and realize that Antonio would never have reached the doorknob from the floor.

The door swings open and a guy in black pants and a red shirt, though not the guy I was hoping to impress, is standing there looking in. It's creepy how he just stands there. He doesn't come in, leave, say anything, he just stands there. Antonio is between him and I closer to him.

I rise to my feet but I have trouble doing so. I feel drugged, as I did after having a colonoscopy. I try to yell and I'm unable to get and clarity or volume. I wake up.

I drift back to sleep pretty quickly, and the guy is still there only now I'm standing close to him face to face, only he doesn't have a face, or a head. He has a note pad, spiral, top-bound, instead. On the note books are printed words expressing what he has to say. He tears off the front page when I'm done reading as he has more to say on the next page.

Damn me that I don't recall what was written on the pad.