I wrecked my father's car, only nothing changed about it except for the paint on the back bumper, which had been scratched off. Having done this made me a social outcast. I went to the city's
public library with my boyfriend standing, looking for a book with someonething particular in it, which I don't remember. And I was kicked out of the library.
I was now at home, and this scientist was in my backyard and he had made this machine that allows you to travel back into all of your old dreams. The dreams were stored on small tape reels and placed inside the machine and projected into the house. A lot of people were there, and the scientist was going through many of my old dreams. He kept mentioning horrible and embarrassing incest dreams. Eventually he projected someone else's dream into the house, and I went in. Everyone told me to be careful, and I would respond, "But why? What could happen to me?" Then I saw it. The subject of the dream was charging towards me with a knife. I screamed and jumped out of the house.
I suddenly understood the nature of dreams. Dreams are often realistic because later technology enables us to intervene with the dream process, and what we are experiencing is real.
I got out of the dream, and I saw my dad and his girlfriend sitting in lawn chairs. The mail had just come, and inside were small books from colleges. One was my choice college. I recognized these to be books from the colleges telling me the total amount of scholarship money I had been awarded from them. From USC, I had collected $10,000. I was a senior in the dream, I guess. And I told my dad that this was the amount of money our class saluatorian had collected.
Now I was at school, and people in my German class were sneaking out and standing in front of this newly placed vending machine which sold German pornography. People from my academic team were there as well, Heather, Debra, and Ray. We were talking, and then Debra said they had to leave. I asked why and she told me the academic team was having some sort of lunch together. She asked me where Ben was, and I told her I don't know. So I ran back out of the building, and over to where I thought he might be, and he was inside the wrong building in the wrong class with his journalism teacher building those little puzzle cubes (Snafoozles or something) made of foam. And I was trying to get his attention, but his teacher yelled at me. And I said, "But it's his lunch break!" Even if it wasn't. She said she didn't care. Eventually I saw him, and he told me how he was going to the prom. He couldn't figure out who he would be going with. I'm guessing he had dumped me. He told me he was thinking of going with one of his friends from Columbia who we had seen at a concert. She had a really weird name. I had never met her. He kept using the pronoun "he" instead of "she."
We went into this alley which took us to this residential area for extremely obese people who had their legs suspended in slings. He said, "No these people are too fat. I'm going for the best-looking one I can get."
I walked away and woke up.