I'm in the woods with a small group of my tribe. A boy comes out of the woods into a meadow.

— Big Gap in my Memory of the Dream—

I am sitting in a chair in a meadow with several of my people around me in a simi-circle. There is a chandelier swinging from the ceiling. The ceiling isn't suspended by anything. There are no walls.

I push the chandelier to get it swinging. Instead of swinging less with each swing, it gains momentum swinging more towards me. It is frightening. There must be some magnetic or energetic attraction for the chandelier to me.

[As I type this, outside, a crow caws.]

The chandelier becomes an airplane swooping in big circles. I duck behind a chair afraid that it will hit me. The plane turns into a crow or raven. It is swooping even faster and harder now.

A large crow appears sitting on a wire above the commotion. It attacks the first crow each time it makes a loop. The smaller one's wings are shredded. On it's third pass, the large crow captures the small one.

The large crow brings the small one to me and places it in my hands. It's throat is ripped out. It's insides are like deviled ham and oozing. I cup it in my hands to prevent the guts from spilling out. It tries to bit my fingers but it is too weak.

I am somehow responsible for the death of this small crow which was a plane which was a chandelier which was the little boy.

A woman and an oracle tells me that I should make my bed in a particular spot full of sticks from a flood. I lay down with a red blanket wrapped around my feet. A man comes out of the forest a little ways away from where the boy came out. It is the boy's father. The father says, "Where's my son?" He is a bumbling clod of a man, fat and weak. Yet I am afraid of him. I jump to my feet and say "I know where your son is." I pretend to be someone else. The man is lead to a place to wait for me. I wish that I had just greeted the man and treated him as a friend and not become involved with his search for his son.

As I arise from my sleep, I put on my right sock. My foot is covered in blue chalk. I put on my left boot. It is covered in blue chalk. I try to put my sock over the boot. I take off the boot and put the sock on first.

I assemble my spear which is more like a cross with several cross bars at various angles. It has sharp points at each end decorated with feathers and strips of red cloth.

Behind my head while I slept was a tent full of my tribe cooking a meal. They are recounting the story of the boy and the crows. They tell one part that I don't remember (in my waking and possible not in my waking state in my dream—I had just been dosing as they told the story) which must have occurred during the "Big Gap in my Memory of the Dream". The boy violently stabs some living thing over and over. He may be commiting a murder. The people in the tent are harassing the woman-oracle for her role. I enter the tent, sit beside her and hug her. I tell her that she has done no wrong and tell the rest to stop harassing her.

I go to the father, but never tell him his son is dead.

"interpret" [As I type the last line, two crows flew over my head outside my window. Was the second one a little smaller?]

The boy is me. The chandelier attached to the ceiling in the sky is light come down from heaven. The airplane is science. The crow is anger and knowledge. They are all one. They are me and my adaptions to life with my father, the brutal scientist and man without any emotion but anger. As chandelier, I tried to be a saintly boy, as plane, I tried to relate to my father through science, as the crow I tried to survive by being angry and attacking the real me thus suppressing me and trying to fit me into my dad's life. The crow is a transformational crow and not real.

The large crow is my authentic wisdom and knowledge come to destroy the false selves in the boy-chandelier-plane-crow.

I am afraid to tell the father that his son is dead, because it is my father and I do not want to take away from him the subservient son that he created in me. I don't want him to feel the emptiness of what he tried to teach me (that there is no spirit in life). My father's ego depends on him having proven his rightness in me. Should I throw off his oppression, it would destroy his own self worth.

I should just kill the father and be done with it.