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Chapter 5 - A Sex Dream FantasyDuring the night after our conversation with Nicolai, when we had talked about the difficulties in scrapping the Byzantine system that isolates humanity, which authorizes what people ought to think and feel, I had a dream. The dream echoed what we had talked about for hours earlier with Nicolai on the subject of vertical domination, and for many more hours afterwards among ourselves after the conversation with Nicolai had ended. Our entire conversation that evening had been focused on the realization that this entire vertical system that controls our thinking had to go, and that it had to be scrapped in our own lives first. But that's not a small task, is it? We concluded that day near the end of a long string of discussion that the very notion of a vertical domination among people for whatever reason had to be replaced with an open door policy towards developing a greater honesty with ourselves, a greater self-love as a foundation for the substance of our love for one-another. All of this was strangely reflected in my dream, though in a totally different context as this happens so often in dreams. The context in which this focus reemerged seemed almost unrelated to what we had talked about, and yet it was totally related to our project. The dream unfolded in a way that made the project far more challenging than I had dared to acknowledge to myself. I dreamed that night that I was in a cafe with Sylvia. It appeared to be an ordinary run of the mill type cafe. The waitress was dressed in black, as waitresses often are. She had long black hair and wore a super-short miniskirt. And that is where the ordinary world ended. I became intensely aware that her miniskirt was too short, that it was so short that a few strands of her pubic hair protruded below the hemline. I couldn't help being aware of it as she stood by the cash register that was placed on a counter with a well-lit display case underneath. Suddenly the scene changed. It intensified. She turned and walked towards us, towards me. I was no longer aware of her face or her expression, but I did see those twisted strands of hair. She stopped at our table, almost touching it with her legs, and removed the ordering pad from her pouch. In the process of removing the pad she raised the hemline still higher, high enough to reveal more of the bush of her hair and what lay behind it. "Good morning! Do you like what you see?" she asked, as if she was asking for our order. I was stunned. Without the slightest hesitation I said, NO! I was embarrassed, unable to respond in any other way. Sylvia existed outside of the sphere of this moment. I couldn't sense the slightest reaction from her as if she hadn't heard, or as if she suddenly lived in a parallel universe in which this was not happening. I observed that Sylvia ordered two cups of coffee for us, one large, one small, and a couple of Danish pastries. "That's what we like," she added. I looked away from the waitress, afraid of what might happen. I didn't want Sylvia to know, or her to have heard what had really been said. Sometime later I saw the waitress again, similarly engaged with a man at the far side of the cafe. Evidently, the man had answered differently. I could see his hand under her skirt. She was stroking his shoulders, his hair. They were both laughing, even kissing at times. At the end, after countless minutes had passed she received what looked like a ten-dollar tip from him, which was presented to her with an another kiss, and was received in the same manner and with a great big smile. When she walked away, the man just sat there in a daze, still smiling. Moments later she brought him his coffee. || - page index - || - chapter index - || - Exit - ||
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