It seems to me that when you are dreaming you are more like yourself than at any other time. I dream quite heavily. I am often surprised in my dreams that everyone accepts me, and wants to know me. In life, I am sometimes shocked by the repulsiveness I create, and for which I am then rejected. I am, for instance, an extreme Christian, and also I love right wing politics. I work at a left wing college in a left wing department. I enjoy shocking my colleagues with my viewpoint. I try to make it as extreme as possible. The funny thing is that they are shocked for example that I make fun of their decision tree in which women, poor, disabled, and minorities have the truth, whereas white straight men are always already liars. But down deep they know their decision tree will lead them to the wrong decision because it's stupid. I just tell them this. They put up their hands in shock and horror, and later admit that I am right, coming into my office and saying, how amazing, you were right, but don't tell the others that I think this.
Of course I'm right. Demographic criteria can't make you right. Either you've thought a problem through and have the right answer to whether or not water freezes at 32 degrees, or you don't. Truth is at least partially empirical. When Zimmerman offed Martin, all my colleagues thought Zimmerman was lying because he's a WHITE Hispanic. Therefore, he had to be evil. I very patiently explained to this pack of poisonous cupcakes that none of us were there but that the jury decided Zimmerman was not guilty because he was there in his quasi-official status as a security guard, and that it's pretty clear he was jumped, and might have died. I knew right away that he was going to eventually be exonerated. They said no, Martin was a child, the media keeps saying he was a child. Martin was 17 and weighed 180 pounds and stood at 6'1" and played varsity football at his high school. He wasn't a child. Plus, he was getting the Skittles to make Lean, a drink that rappers use that they make with Sprite, Skittles, and cough syrup.
It makes you stupidly aggressive.
This wasn't reported in my newspaper, they screamed in horror. How can it be true? Well, it's reported in various sites, and I talked to black kids at my college, and they told me Skittles is used to make Lean, and that it was reported through the grapevine that he was making Lean. I asked them if they used Lean, and they said, of course we do. That's what makes us so stupidly aggressive.
At any rate, dreams. In my dreams I am often doing something like working as a rep for a big music company and I have to find some idiotic rapper and get his signature on something. I am almost always facilitating some kind of artistic person or have been asked to be a big musical performer at a show. To my astonishment, I sing right wing lyrics and everyone loves them, and changes their mind. But the point is my astonishment at the acceptance of my viewpoint, which I deliberately make as shocking as possible.
I dream very heavily every night. I was a temporary secretary for years in Seattle and thirty years later am often still trying to get to some job before eight. I could never figure out which skyscraper I was supposed to be in or where I should find parking and was often way late. Last night my car flew into a skyscraper and I thought oh this is going to cost millions of dollars to fix, am I the Bin Laden of the temporary secretarial pool or what, and then I got out of the car and no one even looked at me. Wouldn't the cops figure out who I am from the license plate? Somehow it just didn't matter and I started talking to people, and then finally got to the boring job, and went home in some other car. I am often in public places and am somewhat lost and don't know quite what I should be doing. I try to find my family and am frantic and then there they are and everything is ok. I'm constantly late in dreams! In life I'm actually usually right on time. I can't even recognize the faces of people I'm living with and working with in dreams! But in life I usually remember peoples' names. I always think that everyone will turn on me, but people don't. They love me. Everyone loves me.
Because people say, well, his viewpoint is a joke to him. They think of me as Andy Kaufman at times. So I am always accepted in the long run, as people make excuses for my viewpoint. I am not like Jesus, because I don't tell the truth in such a way that it offends people. I joke around the truth, and watch their decision maker squirrel about in their chipmunk heads, and finally, arrive at the position where they cut me a break. Pilate asked, "What is truth?" Well, I'd have joked with him that he was the truth and the way, and that I was just a squirrelly chipmunk from nowhereville, so how could I have the truth? He was the one from the capital of Rome, not me. Therefore, he would have the truth. Don't tase me, Bro.
But then I might say, of course, God is everywhere. And therefore everyone has at least access to the truth, which is why we are able to agree that he is the absolute truth.
So I would undermine his viewpoint. And in my dreams it is always accepted, and I am highly sought after.
Therefore, I have come to the conclusion that I am actually a social four. This is news, people. It is a new designation for me. I used to think I was a sexual five, but I don't think fives care AT ALL what other people think. In my dreams I am always astonished to be accepted, and I care a lot what other people think. I try to change their minds about things, and manage to discombobulate their thought process, and still be liked. It's a funny thing, but I know how to be liked. I don't think fives generally know this. But fours know how to play with popularity. In and out actually matters to them. I am always in, even if my ideas are out. I smuggle them right back in. Ha ha.
Of course I'm right. Demographic criteria can't make you right. Either you've thought a problem through and have the right answer to whether or not water freezes at 32 degrees, or you don't. Truth is at least partially empirical. When Zimmerman offed Martin, all my colleagues thought Zimmerman was lying because he's a WHITE Hispanic. Therefore, he had to be evil. I very patiently explained to this pack of poisonous cupcakes that none of us were there but that the jury decided Zimmerman was not guilty because he was there in his quasi-official status as a security guard, and that it's pretty clear he was jumped, and might have died. I knew right away that he was going to eventually be exonerated. They said no, Martin was a child, the media keeps saying he was a child. Martin was 17 and weighed 180 pounds and stood at 6'1" and played varsity football at his high school. He wasn't a child. Plus, he was getting the Skittles to make Lean, a drink that rappers use that they make with Sprite, Skittles, and cough syrup.
It makes you stupidly aggressive.
This wasn't reported in my newspaper, they screamed in horror. How can it be true? Well, it's reported in various sites, and I talked to black kids at my college, and they told me Skittles is used to make Lean, and that it was reported through the grapevine that he was making Lean. I asked them if they used Lean, and they said, of course we do. That's what makes us so stupidly aggressive.
At any rate, dreams. In my dreams I am often doing something like working as a rep for a big music company and I have to find some idiotic rapper and get his signature on something. I am almost always facilitating some kind of artistic person or have been asked to be a big musical performer at a show. To my astonishment, I sing right wing lyrics and everyone loves them, and changes their mind. But the point is my astonishment at the acceptance of my viewpoint, which I deliberately make as shocking as possible.
I dream very heavily every night. I was a temporary secretary for years in Seattle and thirty years later am often still trying to get to some job before eight. I could never figure out which skyscraper I was supposed to be in or where I should find parking and was often way late. Last night my car flew into a skyscraper and I thought oh this is going to cost millions of dollars to fix, am I the Bin Laden of the temporary secretarial pool or what, and then I got out of the car and no one even looked at me. Wouldn't the cops figure out who I am from the license plate? Somehow it just didn't matter and I started talking to people, and then finally got to the boring job, and went home in some other car. I am often in public places and am somewhat lost and don't know quite what I should be doing. I try to find my family and am frantic and then there they are and everything is ok. I'm constantly late in dreams! In life I'm actually usually right on time. I can't even recognize the faces of people I'm living with and working with in dreams! But in life I usually remember peoples' names. I always think that everyone will turn on me, but people don't. They love me. Everyone loves me.
Because people say, well, his viewpoint is a joke to him. They think of me as Andy Kaufman at times. So I am always accepted in the long run, as people make excuses for my viewpoint. I am not like Jesus, because I don't tell the truth in such a way that it offends people. I joke around the truth, and watch their decision maker squirrel about in their chipmunk heads, and finally, arrive at the position where they cut me a break. Pilate asked, "What is truth?" Well, I'd have joked with him that he was the truth and the way, and that I was just a squirrelly chipmunk from nowhereville, so how could I have the truth? He was the one from the capital of Rome, not me. Therefore, he would have the truth. Don't tase me, Bro.
But then I might say, of course, God is everywhere. And therefore everyone has at least access to the truth, which is why we are able to agree that he is the absolute truth.
So I would undermine his viewpoint. And in my dreams it is always accepted, and I am highly sought after.
Therefore, I have come to the conclusion that I am actually a social four. This is news, people. It is a new designation for me. I used to think I was a sexual five, but I don't think fives care AT ALL what other people think. In my dreams I am always astonished to be accepted, and I care a lot what other people think. I try to change their minds about things, and manage to discombobulate their thought process, and still be liked. It's a funny thing, but I know how to be liked. I don't think fives generally know this. But fours know how to play with popularity. In and out actually matters to them. I am always in, even if my ideas are out. I smuggle them right back in. Ha ha.
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