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Out of the closet

I was with several young women. They were models, and we were in the middle of a huge photo shoot. I was working on the production side. I remember that we were all hanging out on this huge lookout tower in between shoots. We'd have to climb up and sort of hang onto these perches. There were lots of girls with their hair in curlers and face masks on waiting for their turn.

For some reason, I got into a conversation with one model about being bi-sexual. She asked me if I was, and I said yes. Then I started wondering with my lucid mind. Am I? Well, I suppose so. Wait. But am I REAAAAAALLY?

The thought train bored me so I climbed down and started looking around the studio. There were cases of things that a woman I used to work with had collected on her travels. I got caught up in looking at things. Fans from Thailand. Little statues from Africa. Antique jewelry from Italy. I just got lost in doing that for the rest of the dream pretty much. That kind of peeves me because I've been reading Castaneda again, and trying to look at my hands. I keep seeing my hands, but it doesn't trigger lucidity or that catch the way I wanted to try, like in his books. Still, the only way for me to trigger lucidity like that, is to look in a mirror.

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