Last night I wanted to visit my two favorite neighborhood eating/shopping streets, one street perpendicular to another. I planned to stroll along, as I always did, passing by my favorite eating places until I spontaneously chose one. The choices were a candy/sundries store selling delicious sandwiches and egg creams; a Jewish deli serving all sorts of tasty goods; a German bakery with great homemade soups and sandwiches and yummy sweets; a cafeteria with inexpensive home style meals and puddings; and two Italian restaurants, one simple and inexpensive, the other pricier with delicious regional foods and desserts.
I had eaten at all these places many times, with great satisfaction, but I hadn't visited these streets or any of these restaurants in a long time. So I was doubly eager to get out there and enjoy some great eats.
Then, I heard myself saying, "Wait a minute, this is just a dream." That made me feel disappointed, but I resolved to visit these two streets the next evening. Or perhaps I would go early and take the bus that runs along one of these street out into the beautiful countryside, take a good long walk there, and then catch the bus back to find the right place to eat. Then I heard a voice saying, "But these two streets aren't real. You've only dreamed them in the past. You can't visit them tomorrow."
Then I woke up, scrutinizing my memory to see whether all those wonderful strolling and eating experiences were real, or just dreams. My memories of them were so vivid that I was convinced they were real. But as I thought about it I realized that I had no idea where this place of two wonderful streets was located. In fact, I realized that I was indeed having memories of dreams, not realities.
I was so disappointed. I heard myself saying, "If they are just dreams I don't want to go there anymore. It won't be the same if I'm not convinced that my favorite restaurants were real. I can't pretend. I just won't have the same wonderful experiences."
I was sad, but eventually I went back to sleep and had the dream about Plato's Bed.
I had eaten at all these places many times, with great satisfaction, but I hadn't visited these streets or any of these restaurants in a long time. So I was doubly eager to get out there and enjoy some great eats.
Then, I heard myself saying, "Wait a minute, this is just a dream." That made me feel disappointed, but I resolved to visit these two streets the next evening. Or perhaps I would go early and take the bus that runs along one of these street out into the beautiful countryside, take a good long walk there, and then catch the bus back to find the right place to eat. Then I heard a voice saying, "But these two streets aren't real. You've only dreamed them in the past. You can't visit them tomorrow."
Then I woke up, scrutinizing my memory to see whether all those wonderful strolling and eating experiences were real, or just dreams. My memories of them were so vivid that I was convinced they were real. But as I thought about it I realized that I had no idea where this place of two wonderful streets was located. In fact, I realized that I was indeed having memories of dreams, not realities.
I was so disappointed. I heard myself saying, "If they are just dreams I don't want to go there anymore. It won't be the same if I'm not convinced that my favorite restaurants were real. I can't pretend. I just won't have the same wonderful experiences."
I was sad, but eventually I went back to sleep and had the dream about Plato's Bed.
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