I dozed off for a few hours and had the strangest dream. In it there was myself and a bunch of other people. I can't say who any of them were in particular. You know how dreams tend to morph into other dreams?

The part i woke up thinking about was this: we were held up in a rickety old squatter building. Mattresses on the floor, clutter... There was a working telephone. I know because i remember having the feeling we were waiting for a specific call, so no one touched the phone. However i also remember you could sense we were all there waiting to do something righteous. The place was stacked from floor to ceiling with books, bags, papers, sleeping bags, clothes, food bags. Stuff scattered around from corner to corner and everybody was sitting around talking some really heavy stuff about when we get the call. We'd, or they'd - do this or that. This isn't something i actually remember hearing. It was more like a feeling you could feel it in the air. Thick like the smell of gasoline or burning wood.

So anyhow there was a small toilet-room - no bath, just an old rusty porcelain toilet, stained with old urine and who knows what else. It was overflowing so bad the water - foul smelling water - appeared to glow. A greenish brown glowing, foul-smelling liquid, or more like a thick slime, was spilling out and over the bowl, boiling up almost beginning to flood the room with all our supplies and sleeping bags, yet no one moved to stop it or move the supplies.

So myself and some old guy (i only remember he felt me with a snow white beard) trying to fix the problem. We're knee deep in this stench. it's in our pores and you can taste it almost! The dream was thick with disgust at this point!

So i have to go downstairs to get some type of plumbing supplies or a bucket or something from a man downstairs, who again felt like me. Only he was more like i am now, entering middle age and hopeful. I distinctly remember getting a sense from him that as soon as the call came he'd be the one who'd organize everyone. It's a weird feeling. We talked. i don't remember about what, exactly, but that was the vibe i got! i got the bucket from him and went back outside. the stairs had turned into these old wooden dilapidated stairs. They seemed to be falling way from the building and appeared to be 50 stories high. i tried to climb the first one, got to about the fifth, and they began to fall from under my feet. i slipped, the hand rail disappeared, and i tumbled and dropped to the ground.

Here's the trip. i saw the toxic slime drowning the people in the room, all of who seemed to now have these huge wings, and could've gotten out but wouldn't. They just lay there looking at me, calling and reaching out to me. Some had the slimy liquid coming out of their mouths. I remember feeling desperate and panicked. Some were still talking about when we get the call. I realized then i have wings too, why can't i fly to save them? Why don't they fly out?

I stood there trying to figure out how to use my wings. How do they work, why can't i fly? What's holding us back? I remember thinking we've got to go, the call ain't coming!

Then i woke up, feeling very uneasy, and i'm still feeling it with a hint of depression - from a dream. Is that crazy, or what? I keep thinking i let those people down in that room, because i didn't help them. i wasted my talents or gifts or something. My wings, when i had the chance, why didn't i fly to them? Then i get angry because they didn't save themselves either. We all were too busy waiting on some call or flapping our gums instead of our wings.

I think i'm gonna be depressed all day. i feel it. it always starts this way. I sink deeper, the more i think about it, but i can't stop thinking about it!