Mind Transformation 463

463.
Dream: There was a moment when I realized that I was in a dream. A naive girl laughed at me when I said that, and I demonstrated my omnipotence by turning her into nothing.
X tries to sell a bunch of shit to a man with a mustache who looks quite suspicious. All that shit is labeled with the “Boiling Point” logos. I stand there looking at this scene and saying nothing. The man, at the end of X’s stumbling speech, begins to talk roughly and insults her with sarcasm. Eventually, she turns away and goes out with tears on her face. I don’t do anything but passively follow her. At the entrance of the building, there are police waiting for us. They take X and push her into a police car. Then they are approaching me, but all of a sudden there is a kind of criminal business that begins to happen, and one of the policemen starts shooting at someone on the other side of the street. His bullet hit a window of a car. Another policeman rushes to help the first one. I’m giving signs to X to get out of the police car, and when she does it, we obscurely run away.
That’s the dream. Okay. It seems that the more I prepare for the speaking club, the less—
Well, let’s stop making bizarre sentences and simply describe what was going on there. This time there were more people than ever before. Actually, it gets harder to conduct meetings when there are so many people. I think, if I grow as fast as it is right now, I’ll be forced to divide all members into two groups and work with them at different times. Today, I tried pair work and it turned out remarkable. Everyone was involved in the discussion…
Well, it seems I can’t think clearly today. After the entire week of playing chess and falling asleep at 5 or 6 AM, I feel totally disorganized and my thoughts aren’t coherent. I wanna way something really simple, but instead of precise words, which must be there, I see only a mess of whatever it may be called. I guess it’s because of the feeling of embarrassment which I had at the beginning of today’s speaking club. How it may be that—well, don’t wanna talk today. Nonsense.

To the beginning: http://www.proza.ru/2018/03/10/1530
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