Dream journal entry #5
03/25/2014 03:03 p.m.
I had vivid dreams last night but, for the most part, had trouble recalling anything more than fragments. During the night, I awoke numerous times, saying to myself, remember the cave and the children, remember the fires burning, remember the gifts (or something like that). Usually this is enough to begin recalling the rest of a dream, particularly if I try to write it down later. Not this time. But the last dream of the morning stands out quite a bit better:

I'm much younger than I am now, maybe just a few years removed from highschool, and sitting at a table with four friends whom I know very well in the dream but don't know at all in real life. We're talking. The table where we sit is located at the far end of a large public place, similar to a bowling alley. In the area where bowling lanes should be, down a few steps from where we sit, there are large court-like areas, maybe five of them, surrounded by crowds of highschool students. In the upper area where we're sitting, there are even thicker crowds of people whom I presume to be older. Everyone is milling about up here, aimlessly, or so it seems. I don't remember what my friends and I are talking about but I feel as if I should. A voice comes over the loud speaker announcing that we're up next for a match. I think it's soccer, or someting like that. This surprises us. We know we're too old to qualify as a team but think, what the hell, stand up, and begin working our way through the crowd of older people, trying to reach the court at the far end of the building. Getting near to our destination, with me trailing behind the others a bit, I become worried about my shoes; they're not athletic shoes, but rather shoes with hard leather soles. And I'm even less qualified than my friends to play in this tournament; I'm way too old. In fact, I don't even play this sport, never have, at least not at a competitive level. The others ignore my trepidation and, when we reach the opposite end of the building, proceed down to the court. Still trailing behind, I take a head count; there's only five of us, don't we need more than five? And then I'm on the court also, where I notice now that I'm not wearing any shoes at all, only a pair of slippery black socks. What happened to my shoes? They must be back at the table, so I quickly head to the opposite side of the court (where the pins would be if this really were a bowling alley) and decide to sneak through from this side to retrieve my shoes. But there's a crowd of people lining the courts at this end as well, watching the other matches and cheering. Behind the onlookers and against the wall are the highschool cheerleaders and dancelines. Between the cheerleaders and the spectators I can see just enough room to get through if I'm careful (it's almost like a narrow corridor, or a well-defined path between groups of people). As my friends get ready to play, I quickly dash into this crowd and begin working my way back to the table, being very careful not to brush up against the cheerleaders (some of whom I seem to know) as I work my way through. About halfway to my destination, however, I look down at my feet and notice that I am wearing shoes again. So I stop, feeling very puzzled. Then I wake up, saying to myself, remember the cave and the children, remember the fires burning, remember the gifts ...