EXT: Africa. Daytime, in the middle of genocide
We’re running alongside a river, and a man wearing lots of guns runs out of the woods. We’re terrified, but he is shot, and collapses. We walk past him into the cover of the woods and eventually find a huge tree. The tree is almost magical, and reminds me of a book that I read once. (Although being awake, I have no idea what book I was thinking about.) There is a grizzly old man standing by the tree. He motions for us to climb it. I am surprised by how easily I’m able to get up. The trunk of the tree is huge, like a house. Once I get near the top, I can’t see any of the branches that I used to climb up, and have no way of getting down.
Before I know it, they need the tree for something, so they’re cutting it down. I wasn’t as devastated in my dream as I am now reflecting on it. I just waited and kept crying about not being able to get down. Eventually, I fell out of the tree, but I wasn’t as high up as I thought I was at that point and it didn’t hurt. Wasn’t much of a fall, really. Just a plop – and oh, I’m down.
I have a collection of things like flowers and leaves that I want to make rubbings of in my sketchbook and press to use later. There are other things that I wanted to make rubbings of that make no sense, like a razor blade, or piece of thin metal and I think a bicycle chain. I asked Tom to get my sketchbook and he walked away, leaving me with the old man and an old woman.
I felt very much like a child through the whole dream, at least, from the part where I saw the tree. Before that, I was some kind of rebel, almost a secret agent. I feel like I can’t describe it enough. The actual dream was much longer and more intense than this short description of it.
That La Kid 
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