Dream

I remember the part near the end where I was supposed to look up and print a song that had 2 distinct parts on being happy or like walking.  It was a song I supposedly knew.  So, I remember I was under some covers.  This lady, Ellen DeGeneres, put her hand on me and like sorta finger-knuckled me to get up, posing as my mom.  I was rubbing her fingers.  It was funny, supposedly I had literally imagined her like generously massaging me on the top of my back.  I guess she was kinda mellow and caring.  I did get up, right away.  I was sorta on a machine that was supposed to be a computer.  It had different like shelves where it opened more after the 1st 2 with certain options controlling what it did to like my website, that showed up on like an arcade screen.  Also, supposedly, I had a nasty, little brother.  Maybe a baby sister that was sweet and fair like Ellen.

Then, there was another part in religion.  Finally, I was in the class.  They proceeded to separate people into non-singing women, which squawked like me, Irish boys, and then the select rest of us, girls, to walk like along the road of a forest.  The religion teacher was proud and protective sorta of singers because they had to be church singers, unless they were private prodigies.

The dream was pretty long with lots of people before.  I called the little boy stupid for being mean to me and said other people were worthless and later said he wasn't.  We were like at a store, like a grocery store.  I sorta said sorry on the floor of the computer room.

So, I liked the part near the end before waking up where the lady was like poking at me with her fingers.  It did make me feel in that area, gave me that sorta tingly, warm feeling in that area.  Kinda nice, not too mushy.  It was funny, the person left off sorta saying or thinking okay that it was funny I supposedly imagined her rubbing me.  I had waltzed down the grocery store recently  thinking of how I literally imagined things, covering things I really had go through my mind, more or less.  I don't really do that, anymore, imagine things so much, but I probably would.

So, it was really mysterious when the person touched me.  Nostalgic.  Like, time to git up.  Like I was a good person, though I was kinda  in a rut.  Like mentality and healthwise.  I just hadn't made the right decisions and was not forced to live richly.