Girl very beautiful wanted me, met her where? at a public place I remember. But she showed up, I was surprised, at my house, but not my house, my grandparents condo on the beach, what was i doing there. she had a gun, I had a gun, I could tell while we were making out that it was a setup, she was a setup, she was supposed to kill me, I had seen her gun, I had already pointed the gun at her, she admitted it, I was so saddened, but I loved her, I was infatuated with her, there was this bond between us, this karmic destiny, she had a job to do, she confessed it, but we still were fooling around, because of this tragic attraction,  I kissed her everywhere, all over her body, she laid there loving it, intoxicated by our chemistry, I kissed her arms and shoulders and underarms and she teared up from the beauty of the moment,  it was wonderful, she was crying, I began crying, from the beauty of it, she then went to kill me, in some way, how I don’t remember, yes I do, she had a gun, she could not kill me, she shot, it misfired, she stood there in silence, I stood up, I pointed the gun at her, sunlight was coming into the room now, it was becoming morning now, she stood next to the bed not facing me, afraid to face me, ashamed to face me, I knew I had to shoot her, I didn’t want to shoot her, but knew I had to, she had just shot at me, I would be dead now if her gun wouldn’t have misfired, she sobbed, I shot her in the chest from the side, she hunched over and started to convulse a bit, I stood there watching her, so that is what it looks like when someone gets shot I thought, I felt as though I was reliving something that was meant to be, something that had to be, I was only playing a part in it, a part I was obligated to play, I was miserable in that moment as I watched her convulse, I went to shoot her again, but my gun would not work. I ran out of the condo, down the stairs, all of a sudden I was a kid again, in high school or junior high school, I was sad lonely scared, felt like a rebel, felt like a bad kid, felt like it was me against the world, feeling like I didn’t fit in, running from everyone, running for my life, I had my gun in my back pocket and her gun in my front packet, I tried to hide it from the people on the street, all of a sudden I was in an industrial neighborhood, back in the old warehouse district where I spent my early twenties as a singer in rock bands, I was running through the streets when two guys saw me, I hid the guns, they saw the guns, I was overwhelmed with that same feeling I used to have as a kid, like I was an outlaw and everyone was out to get me or punish me or take me away for something that I had done but didn’t mean to do or didn’t intend to do, I had this feeling my whole life until I was about 25 years old, I was always since the day I could remember overwhelmed with a heavy feeling of guilt covering me like a blanket that everyone could see, and there I was in it again, the men stopped me, I tried to play it cool, casual, they saw through it, saw my gun, I showed it to them and I was surprised to see that it was a toy gun, a home made gun, it didn’t work, they let me go, but as I walked away they noticed the other gun in my back packet, they chased me, I ran, through the streets and through the warehouses, I realized that I was getting very near my old studio, that’s where I was, back in the same warehouse district where my studio was, I have dreamed of this old studio many times before in the last ten years since selling it, and everytime I dreamed of it, it was still operating, but without me, I know that in real life this isn’t true, it has long since been abandoned, I think it is a t-shirt factory now, but everytime I dream of it I go in as a customer, as the old owner, and there are new people running it, and I am always amazed that it is still running, why I dream this consistently year after year I do not know, but in this dream I was operating under the idea that I have in my dreams, that it was still there, and that somehow it was a safe haven, if I could just get there, I would be safe, I could call my uncle, and he would get me to safety, but the men saw me, they called to me, they tried to act like everything would be alright, but I knew they were just talking, that they were going to get me, I had no choice, I didn’t think about it, I hid behind a wall, took aim, and shot one of them right in the head, he disappeared, now I was done for, I had done it now, I was a fugitive, I had to get to the warehouse where my studio was, the other man got very close to me, I hid, but I could see him, he could see me, he aimed at me, I aimed the gun at him, he told me to put it down, why? so I could get shot? I aimed at him, but I could not get the sites to line up on my gun, why? this was my 357 magnum, it was the perfect gun, I had used a hundred times before, it had perfect sites, I knew this, what was happening? I tried to aim anyway, I finally got the sites to line up and I shot right at his forehead, but the gun misfired, I was a goner, I remember in that moment stopping for a moment to think about what I should do, do I run, I will get shot, I went to run and he ran towards me, I was done for, I would be caught, I woke up at that moment and found myself panting and breathing very heavy. For a few I laid there and tried to take it all in. it seemed so real. So important. But it nothing. It was only a dream. But I forced myself to get up and take notes on it.

I know what this dream means. I knew it within a few minutes of taking these notes what it was about. I laid back down and sobbed for a few minutes. In short bursts of agony and deep emotion. I just allowed myself to cry. because I knew what it was all about. and there was great relief in it.