I was in a tower of many levels. I stepped into a cauldron supported with rope pulleys and it took me up through the centre of the tower, before depositing me on a floor devoted to the sale of luxury clothing and evening wear: tuxedos, top hats, dinner jackets and the like. I was running from something, but I don’t know what. I was on a secret mission, the details of which escaped me upon waking.
I had uncovered several books that were of a scientific nature. Behind the research expressed in them were ideas that would fundamentally alter our perception of the human race, perhaps even suggesting that we were not in fact human. Feeling both deeply unsettled by these implicit revelations and lacking the expertise to decipher fully their meaning, I sought advice from a happy-go-lucky American scientist and researcher who did his best to put my mind at ease. We spoke while he scaled a climing frame and made preparations for a weekend of peculiar and esoteric pursuits. Before we parted company he advised me to continue my reading and reveal what I had discovered to as few people as possible. He gave me to know that I should in fact continue my research as clandestinely as possible.
This meeting and conversation took place shortly before I took the cauldron lift through the tower of many levels and began what I felt at the time to be my active carrying out of my mission, at which time I came to realise that I was most definitely being pursued by agents who intended me harm.
This, as best as I can recall, is the nature of the dream I had on the afternoon of 23 January, 2017.