Though it was probably several dreams, it seemed to me that it was all one long one.
Looking for Hell: My search for healing.
Bunch of doctors: Confusion.
Car: My own body.
House/building/motel: My own psyche.
Doors and more doors: Trying to find the answers.
Stairs: What happened Tuesday night, complete with the ‘chicken’
wire fence blocking the way. Chicken! Chicken! Cluck! Cluck!
Backyard: What is hidden.
Stuff: Emotions, thoughts, feelings, beliefs, etc.
Mess: I need to throw out and discard all of these things that clutter my psyche.
Crew: Help that I need.
Frank: What is familiar. Feeling secure. But he cannot help me so I send him away.
Blue truck: What has come out of the blue? The unexpected.
Lumber: My grandfather worked for a lumber company. He worked on the saws in the sawmill cutting the logs into planks.
Man in jeans: I consider Steven Spielberg one of the most creative men of the twentieth century. My higher self? (Why is he always so scruffy looking?)
Right side: The right thing to do in spite of the jostling and the bumping and disturbing emotions, I think.
I found the dream depressing.
Mar. 6, 1999 (Computer Journal)