We were around this weird computer (chris, maman, papa, karine, em). It was showing us random pictures (my mom knew about them already). My brother writes something from the other side of the computer (pass it through). Its material, like magic, and I start reading it out loud. I’m having a very hard time reading, and I manage to squeeze out the first sentence. I look around, my dad and sister are crying. It clicks in my head, that these are lyrics from my gradmother’s favourite song. I feel half bad because I didn’t know fast enough. I start crying (as if forcing tears), to join in with my family. All these people start slowly crowding the place (which has no walls, and is on top of grass and soil). They start telling me I have to sign something that will prove I didn’t kill my grand mother. They say she was vegetarian and too healthy. I’m panicking and crying because of all of this, and they make me feel horrible for the way I’m reacting. A girl brings me documents, lots of pages, and I ask her if they’re in order and tell me ‘Of course Not’ because I didn’t help her. I’m crying (profusely), aimlessly, wondering why my family is letting this happen. My dad is in the room filling different tubs with water. He looks at me as he says ‘Oops, I left this hose in the tub for 15 minutes’ (he knows how much I hate running water). I buy some sweet potatoes, in order to fry them later. I think of Pink Bunnies, and how they represent my growing sadness.
Commentary: Random. I’m starting to wonder if I’m not the creator of all these dreams. I’ve felt their heavy spontaneity before and left them unquestioned. They were out of my control, even lucid Dreams. I was conscious during this dreams, but the setting wasn’t chosen by me.