“All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream.

(Edgar Allan Poe)

Dreams are often most profound when they seem the most crazy.”
(Sigmund Freud)

I am walking along this city street with this guy whom I know is a movie director or something. I am not sure what he is looking for, or where we are going but we are walking along this street where there is construction going on and clearly there is a movie being filmed and I can see this other director, I think wearing a black cap, and he is bossing people around and telling them where to go, where to stand etc. For some reason I know, as does the first director that I am following, that this second director had brought his young daughter to work with him, but she is nowhere to be seen and both I and the first director are wondering where she is. The director I am following then goes over to the first director and I see him talking, bending down and stretching out his hand to about the height that would have been the height of the second director’s daughter. Although I could not hear what they were saying, I knew the first director was asking the second director, “where is your daughter, what kind of father are you to be so focused on your work you lose sight of your daughter”…or something to that effect. The second director then yells something into the air, maybe it was his daughter’s name, and suddenly, way across this empty lot, a young girl comes out of this building. Everyone seems to be satisfied that the girl is safe and I think I begin to follow behind the first director again, heading to wherever it was we were going.

But then the scene shifts quickly and I am standing inside this small, old room with torn wall paper on the wall, a small bed up against one wall, a dirty and scratched window to my left looking out to the ground floor of the house or building we were in and this same young girl is sitting on the bed. Behind her on the wall I can see two small paintings. I think they were oil paintings and although they were old and a bit faded, they still had a bright, vibrant color to them and I don’t recall now what was in the paintings, but I think one was a portrait of a young girl. I don’t recall talking to the little girl but at one point there was some other woman in the room and she was holding out a handful of change to give to the young girl and saying something like “put this in your pocket so you have some money in case you need it”….or something to that effect. And then I was awake in my own bed.