Jul 22, 2013

No One Can Move a Statue

Summary: How an educated stance/opinion/belief translates in dreaming; erotic scenes meant to abuse my easily activated sex drive and the answer to my concern if I am being manipulated by means of that weakness; a neutral perspective on the Reptilian breeding agenda; an extra for my sport-loving partner and family during our vacation.

Night of July 14th/15th 2013

A young woman and I are visiting at a covered area at a park where random people of various ethnicities are loitering. We all chat friendly until one of them offers us a good time with some weed. I reject him kindly and boister my familiarity with the drug, which prompts an Haitian woman with large teeth and gaps to interject about an even better time she can offer. I catch her trick and say "You are just trying to peddle your PCP, don't lie, I know that's what you're on." She laughs and concedes. Two men nearby are intrigued by our presence among these sketchy types and exclaim their action of wanting to come sit with two pretty girls.

There is an elaborate bathtub experience for me where a group of hands and bodies are washing and sexually pleasing me. The whole dream is filled with these such surprises of being pleasured. The water provided a constant state of arousal alone, as though it were scented with aphrodesiac. They washed my hair and my body. Never do I recall any actual contact to the crotch of anykind. The sexual sensation is a full spirit body experience, overwhelming actually.

In one sequence I am selected along with a young, timid woman to be added to a small harem by a man of royalty or power obtained by warmongering. This man is different from the others of power whom he mingles with. He takes care of those subject to servicing him as dictated by social expectations. He plays the game of politics with a moral intent. Circumstances change, his power is overthrown by a hostile invading force. He leads us to escape. We are under fire in streets and plazas of sand with tall structures of hardened sand. The younger woman harem girl I was chosen alongside with panics and runs toward a wall that would put her in the sight of snipers lining all levels of the opposite building we haven't yet been made aware of the enemy having forces on. But I know they are there. When I visually scanned the building as we entered the square, red triangle targets appeared in my vision to lock where enemies hid. Whatever this inner radar was awarded me warning enough to save her from fire. We were surrounded and they were after our master. He sacrificed himself for us to escape in the transport pod, out of place for the seemingly primitive use of sand to build all the structures and walkway bridges linking structures.

Who is this lord I keep serving as an agent/servant girl? This man of power I am bond to, who does care for us, though we serve him. We were terribly upset when he closed the pod door, sealing his capture, and our freedom. Armed opposing forces had caught up to us just as he closed us in and raised his hands in surrender.

Another bathtub sequence, I am filled head to toe with arousal, but they start tossing in weird things to the tub I'm in like cartons of lettuce greens, the plastic container and all. They are snickering, finding my ease of arousal amusing that I would get turned on by even salad (I do not really get turned on by lettuce, I promise, it was just a state of dreaming I was immersed in). I think "lettuce? That's odd. Maybe it's some new kinky thing they have planned." When I open my eyes though, the walls have disappeared and I am atop a grassy hill overlooking a campus. I had been pranked. I see one of them running of chucking down the hill. Without shame, and intent on putting them in their place for their prank, I stand straight up out of the tub, naked and soaped, and stride with intent down the hill like a female terminator. The one I had in my sights is now my hunted and is trying to avoid repercussion by hiding behind people. I still had water in my mouth, which I shoot out as a projectile knocking her on the head and broadcast with that action my intent since she and her pals had put that water in my mouth as a seduction tactic (I don't know). I was saying "You will get back what you've done to me. I have no shame." She finally surrenders a few yards away from an armed soldier who is guarding against public disturbances on the campus. [Why is there militarized peace enforcement on a seemingly quiet college campus?] She ducks down, begging with nervous laughter for mercy. I grabbed the crack dealer's blanket during my pursuit and now executed my punishment: humiliating her with a silly lap dance with my naked ass in her face. I put her prudishness on display with a demonstration of how unhelpful her attacks are for the health of our society and individuals mental well-being. Her deception against me was meant to protest what I represent: free sexual expression and choice, familiarity with the human body and its many shapes to promote a realistic appreciation and greater self-esteem for an individual's uniqueness, a shift away from strict conservatism to education and guidance toward healthy perspective and choices by modeling and communicating with one another (especially our children). I turned her presumed humiliation of me around on her. My ideas on sex are my strength, not my weakness.

I had just read about abductees who see the walls and ceilings disappear from their rooms when a being enters, a phenomenon I have witnessed in a few past dreams, but never in the same nervous context as abductees had. Was this a response somehow to my ponderings on that? Was it saying, even if we did try to take advantage of you or embarrass you, you would see through us eventually and would turn it around. In other words, it would be moot to deceive me in such a way, through sexual manipulation and humiliation. If anything, I am more intrigued by strange sexual encounters than I am horrified by them. Guess that's no fun to prank someone like that. Otherwise, I can think of other reasons for the common reptilian association of strange and invasive sexual interactions. Perhaps that is their branch of specialty. They are uniquely curious and willing participants for sexual encounters and so lead those operations. If cloning is indeed a part of those ops, putting a species that can labor multiple eggs at a time would be most efficient, especially if they enjoy it. Our tasks are supposed to be assigned according to our interests and passions.

Another sequence: My oldest sister in passenger seat of car has been expressing her desire and curiosity to finally experience giving sexual pleasure by hinting about wanting to try it on me. This is completely uncharactistic of both my sister and our relationship; an absolute, unexpected, and strange turn of personality. I am unsure what to tell her, I suggest she is just hyped up and should wait, but when we stop at an empty intersection, she says "I don't want to wait any longer" and squeezes lubrication from a little bottle into her mouth to coat her lips in a way I had never thought of (lube tastes weird), then leans over into my lap. I again am surging with a full aura of distracting sexual arousal that only becomes uncontrollable when she leans over. I permit her exploration though it is awkward for me.

Random sequence: I see vision of a sports center celebrating its 100th anniversary. I see it burnt and destroyed from a fire. It was resurrected into what it is now. This was the anniversary since its rebuilding. What had become of it now in its 100th (year?) was disappointing, superficial, and lacking quality analysis and insight on important aspects of the sports' genre. The facility itself was maintained, and clean, and setup to be hightech, but the people reporting on sports (like a sports news station) weren't covering deeper issues. They were gliding by on the sheer popularity the sports franchise had accumulated and the already established norm of reports. I'm given the opinion that it needed fresh perspective, brave reporters to cover different and controversial topics within the sports world. The people there were arrogant. They were successful because of people's interest in the sports, not because of the quality of their reporting or writing or ideas. There was no substance or unique value to their work.

What the hell is this talking about? Again, I know very little about sports. I do not follow sports. Only since I've been with my partner the last seven years have I even understood the basics of games like football and basketball. I can recognize a few teams, and have enjoyed a few games because my partner watches them, but I am not invested emotionally in the sports world except where my partner is concerned. So, why did I dream this? I mentioned to his family, whom I am out camping with this weekend, about my prophetic dream about Kobe Bryant and the Lakers, and how it marked a severe turning point in their career where they would come out starstruck if Kobe could compromise and start to play as a teammember, or it would be a fall from grace if he persisted to be a one-man team, distrusting others. I share this jokingly with his family last night. Perhaps this segment of the dream was an extra for them.

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