This one goes out to Paul,

When I lived in New York,  this must of been in the summer of 02,  I had a dream.  A dream I experienced vividly.  I was in a small band of people.  We were on the move constantly,  like a band of Gypsies.  There was a feeling the we were being pursued.  Not that anyone was right on our tails,  but that we had to keep on the move,  if we ever actually stopped we would be apprehended.  We were in the woods when they caught us,  Some of us escaped but they took me and another guy in,  maybe they had three of us. they took my sketch books.  They questioned us for a while and then let us go.  when they released they gave me back my sketch books,  but they weren't the originals,  they were replicas.  We rejoined our friends,  even more apprehensive,  not sure why they had released us.  Then we were in these cavernous ruins,  and they were coming.  as we ran through the ruins, it was as if we were running through the foundations of different societies.  When we emerged we were in grass lands,  with roman columns shattered around us.  We climbed over a marble stone,  and there before us was line after line of suits.  Just like the bad guy in Matrix,  lines of them,  in military formation.  And every ten seconds another squadron would run into a hole leading below.  We watched as seemingly endless legions of suits ran below in unison.  We knew they would be coming back our way,  so we ran.  Of course it was futile,  The suits caught up to us half way across the field.  It was a slaughter this time.  I felt someone grabbing me and pulled out the only weapon I had,  a pencil.  The last thing I saw as I awoke,  my hand stabbing in the air,  was a pencil sinking into the neck of some faceless business man.  That was my dream.  My grandmother,  who is a Jungian psychologist,  told me the dreams meaning would become more apparent to me in time,  it has.