A dream on the evening of November 5th, after the Blue Tsunami election:
Last night I dreamt I was invited to a party with Trump's daughters at his beach house. In the dream they were not his real daughters, they were other young women, and I liked them. I was staying at their beach house, it was a lovely old one in New England, with a very long flight of stairs leading from the beach all the way up to the house. For much of the dream we are making multiple trips up these stairs, bringing up items that we had brought down to the beach for a party. As we do that, I realize that sometimes small bright sparks are flying off the tips of my fingers -- I realize that I have a power that I only partially understand and can't really control. The other people in the house don't notice it. Trump does and he hates it, but I really don't care. At one point, the sparks fly over to a nearby house and set a fire, but the fire department puts it out. I leave to go home, and the daughters come with me to have lunch and go shopping before they drop me off at the airport. I'm surprised that all four daughters want to come along but don't mind, I think we will have fun. ~ Anonymous
November 7th, while everyone celebrates the “Blue Wave” on 11/3:
I am at a camp or retreat center with many people glamping in tents and small cabins. Some contagion begins to spread rapidly through the community - a zombie movie like neuro-virus - with a ten minute incubation period where people do not know if they have been infected or not before their brain and personality are hijacked. We do not know if it is spread by air, by contact, or if it is environmental.
Everyone is panicked, containing and quarantining those who seem to have been exposed, trying to protect themselves from those who are now altered, transformed into something murderous and violent. It rips through the campground with ferocity.
At some point, a young hero decides to save two teenage girls from the clutches of the violent infected - not knowing if the girls have been contaminated or not. The girls are saved, but the hero has been infected and has sacrificed himself to rescue them.
This altruistic act appears to have broken chain of transmission. Everyone celebrates, hugging and crying, cheering, letting their guard down, sighing with relief.
A tall older man, who looks like Max von Sydow stands on a car and makes an announcement to the campground: “We have determined the means of infection! It is caused by excessive ambition to help others!”
Others are listening and nodding and I realize this man is the voice of the virus itself, and that others are listening and are being swayed.
I run for my life and my sanity straight into the woods. I stumble upon a healing spring that cures the virus, and bathe in it, but I am worried that the infected have followed me and will try to destroy the spring or use it for nefarious purposes.
