Dreams. Auto-translated

The sky infected me. Now, Stalin appeared in my dream too, but he was the father of a friend of mine and forbade us from communicating, even though we both wanted to and there was mutual attraction between us. He even personally threatened me, but I didn't care about him... and I wasn't going to stop communicating with her. EVEN STALIN CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!!!

In the next dream, they will execute you. But I dreamed of a pigeon today. It walked around me and didn't want to fly away; I don't know what it wanted.

wanted to shoot some seeds

Indeed, if I have sunflower seeds, I usually toss them to the pigeons.

And I’m greedy; I eat everything myself.

I went to my old school with a shotgun and killed all my teachers and classmates. Of course, in the dream, the school was completely different, as were the people in it, meaning there was no connection to reality. Besides, I have no desire to do this in reality because the teachers and classmates were normal people. I liked to get close and shoot them in the head. But for some reason, it took two or three shots to kill someone. After the first shot, part of their skull would be blown off, exposing the brain, and they would continue to live as if nothing had happened, as if I wasn't even there, and they were perfectly healthy. After the second or third shot, their head would explode into pieces, and they would no longer be alive. Although you could also shoot them in the body (people would vomit, like in Quake or Unreal Tournament). At some point, I met a very fat classmate. (I don't know who he is; although there are associations with one person, but there were no such associations in the dream, and this classmate moved to another city after the fourth grade). I shot him once, twice, but he didn't die, and then he became aggressive towards me. I don't know how, but the shotgun disappeared from my hands (it wasn't there at all in the dream), and I started running away from the fat guy with a partially exposed brain. And then we ran around a large table in the living room of my grandmother's apartment in Moscow (the apartment was already like a real one). Somewhere there was a pistol that I needed to pick up to kill my pursuer. I don't know why the fat guy didn't pick up the weapon, although he understood that it was there. We made several circles around the table, and then I finally picked up the pistol and shot him. There was another dream. And now I don't understand: either it was happening in parallel with the first one (that is, first a fragment of one dream, then the second, then again the first, etc.), or it happened before it (most likely, the second one). And I remember it very poorly. But there was a flying train, and then I got on the train and flew over the city (the train tried to stay on the railway; I argued that it shouldn't fly just anywhere, there should be a clear path, like airplanes, otherwise, if other vehicles start flying, an accident could happen).

I was wondering where these Americans come from, the ones who shoot their classmates. Turns out, they're just clowns!

Those Americans are cooler.

The Americans surpassed their ideological inspiration. Klova

But when Americans were shooting their classmates, I was still in kindergarten.

You went to kindergarten. But your potential lived within you, developed, grew, and spread through the noosphere across the entire Earth and beyond. Well, it turned out that Americans were the most sensitive to your emanations. The result, as they say, is evident.

But seriously, you and your dreams have nothing to do with it. Doctors noticed about 30-40 years ago that people all over the world were going crazy.

But when I was little, I was a cute kid. Although later, some jerk came to kindergarten and taught me to swear, and that's not cute :(

I'd like to see you when you haven't learned how to swear yet...

on a four-year-old clown? x)

Vokl, why are you saying that you were still a kid back then? It was only a couple of years ago.