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Dreamed 1980/5/28 by Chris Wayan

I'm at a convention and benefit-concert for Rock Psychiatrists. It was inevitable after rock medicine, I guess. And most people would say it's a bit more urgently needed, yes?

We're all up on the roof where the sound is bearable and you can dance. Getting down afterward is slow though: a bottlenecked crowd, squeezing down a few ladders and fences. I'm tempted to go lucid and use some Power to fix it, but my friend Cynthia says "let them all behave mechanically, it'll solve itself."

I do. It works. We all emerge smoothly at last.

Suddenly I feel envious. I call up to the sky, to the hovering Spirit of the Convention: "Why can't I perform here? My music's as good as any of theirs and better than most!"

The Voice answers: "NOT... YET."

"But why?"


"Huh? 'Full reason?' WHAT reason?"




This has happened a lot lately. I'm lucid, I know I'm dreaming, but choose not to use the power to change a thing. Is there an analogy here? The voice says I'm also just not ready to be a professional artist writer or singer. Damn. But... "full reason."

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