I woke up, anxious from the dream I had. The dream was about me being in physical conflict with various members of my family. It was a reoccurring theme. I began my morning routine and eventually wound up on the sofa as usual in front of the TV, I turned on the 24-hour news stream and was immediately worried that I had caused the recent terrorist attack in a far-off country. It wasn't just a fancy; I was convinced that because I was who I was and lead the lifestyle that I do some wild-eyed terrorist decided to do this heinous crime. It was because I was an important person, the public knew me and followed my every move.

The phone rang, I muted the TV and answered it; it was my mother, who called every morning. She asked me how I was, I lied and told her I was fine since I didn't talk about my innermost thoughts to anyone. Her voice was stressed, which was often the case, she mentioned that she and dad had gotten into a fight again last night. I politely offered to talk to dad, she dismissed it as unhelpful. I glanced at the TV and saw more images of the horrible things going on in the world. My mother went on about yesterday and I listened carefully, waiting to see if she would give herself away, knowing all about my fault in causing the bad news. "It really is terrible what people do to each other," she said after concluding the story of her day. There, she had done it. I was sure now that the fight was about me. "Yes, it is" is all I could offer. "I sometimes feel so helpless and wish I could do more." I was agreeing but secretly I knew that I could do something about it. We said our goodbyes and I turned back to the day ahead of me. I should do something about it.

I decided to go out for coffee, having a coffee in public would calm down the terrorists of this world. I was proactive. I arrived at the coffee shop and scanned for familiar faces, there were the women working there that I all knew. A man that was often there with his laptop was busy typing away on it. He was writing about me no doubt, about my recent blunder. It was crowded but there was still room to sit down and enjoy my coffee. I ordered a mocha; I loved the whipped cream most about it and sat down close to the sales counter. I listened in on conversations, knowing they would be avoiding the subject of me, as it was improper to announce my importance to me directly. What appeared to be a couple, was talking about what they had dreamt of before waking. The man was recalling how, in his dream, he was living in a palace full of servants and that he was raided by aliens. You're probably wondering what I think about Aliens, well, to be honest, I do believe in the possibility of Alien life, but even so, the likelihood of intelligent life at a level beyond ours within the same area of space (which might matter or might not, depending on their range and ability to find other intelligent life in such a vast universe) having come to existence within the same timeframe as our rise of civilization seemed unlikely. It's all about time unless they indeed could master the entire universe and didn't have a limited time span of existence that had to coincide with ours and developed before us, I don't see us being in range of anything comparable to us. Anyways, back to the couple's dreams. The woman was recalling how her voice was not coming through in the dream and was basically mute. It was a very uncomfortable feeling and felt very real and threatening when dreamt. She was so relieved when she awoke. Random neurons firing sure made for a very detailed cinematic experience. Obviously, it wasn't totally random. I dismissed dreams as nothing meaningful though, unlike Freud.

A group of four cops came in: two male, two female. They were obviously there to protect me. One of them noticed me scanning them and grinned, I smiled back and saw my duty as done. I wondered what reasons for my assassination were causing the increased state of alertness. It was probably my photography project; I was publishing my work on the internet. The racy photos were probably what set some people off.

I was contacted telepathically by the world of Gods, they had been judging my progress on my ascension to godhood, things were looking good, and my efforts to change the world had been received positively. They were, however, concerned that my artistic ambitions had led to these recent terrorist activities, and I needed to address this. I sighed and signaled that I would curb my creative ambitions and focus on the tasks at hand. I finished my mocha and went on a city hike. Seeing many faces and reading them was a favorite thing of mine to do and reassured people that I was on the right path. One haggard old man who was having a coughing fit was especially interesting. He still had a full head of hair, and it was all white. He had a few days' worth of facial hair and was dressed conservatively in a tweed jacket with blue pants and a white striped shirt and brown dress shoes. What was so interesting was what he was wearing on his jacket, it was a political button. Elections were coming up and so I asked him about it, as he cleared his throat, he said to me "I think that the elderly should be better taken care of and I am voting to reflect that." It was the local socialist candidate that he was wearing a button for. I nodded and agreed that it was an important matter and told him that I was voting the same way. "Good to see a young person caring about politics, you know it's mostly the young voters that don't go out and vote." I thanked him for the compliment and went on my way.

I was wondering if I should contact my spirit mentor to see if I could contact the Gods at my convenience as opposed to them getting to me whenever it suited them, so I touched my temples and I reached out to her with my mind. "I have a question about my communications with the Gods." I asked her about the communications issue, and she answered: "This is not possible, they are not omnipotent Gods, and they have to attend to other things as well." I was disappointed and told her as much and then we broke off communication. At least I could contact my spirit mentor when I wanted, if she was available. People had begun to stare at me while I was speaking to my spirit mentor, I smiled at them and continued down the streets.

I was lying in the snow with all my winter gear on in the middle of the night observing the stars and the moon. I loved doing this, I thought about religious matters while contemplating the sky. I was determined to find some terrorists in the part of the world where the actions I had seen on TV had taken place and see if I could calm them down. It wouldn't be easy, but I had the funds from my wealthy family available to get flights and hotel rooms. I got up out of the snow, some snow had caked on the back of my toque, and I wiped it off.

Back in my apartment I sat at my laptop and started searching travel websites for what I needed. I booked an open-ended flight and checked some of the hotels, I would just show up and get a room at a hotel that had available rooms. Satisfied that my task was done I went back to the sofa and TV and put the news stream on. The C.I.A. sent me a subliminal on the TV wishing me good luck on my endeavor and I was glad to hear from them. The gods were silent, but it was the kind of thing that would help me on my ascension. The news was reporting on the new security measures that would be taken to protect the country in the wake of all this new terrorist activity, I just hoped that I could end all of this quickly and cleanly.

I didn't notify anyone, except my mother, of my upcoming flight to a war-torn area of the planet and just left a message on my voicemail that explained that I would be gone for the next few months, I wasn't going to take my mobile with me, that would be rude. I started packing the few things I would take along in a carry-on, it was the only piece of luggage I would take with me. I liked to travel light. The flight left tomorrow morning and I set the alarm, booked a taxi for the morning and went to bed.

The alarm woke me, and I contemplated the meaning of my dream about magic and muggles, my dream was pop art! Off to the airport I went and reached my flight without interruption. I had requested and got a window seat, my favorite seating. There were two people seated next to me, two young, what appeared to be, businessmen with laptops. I didn't realize that there would be local businessmen on a flight to what I thought to be the middle of nowhere. I asked them about it and they told me that there was business done with the developed world where I was going. They were surprised that I didn't seem to know very much about my destination, and I was struggling to come up with a response. I eventually decided to say, "It was about curiosity". It's amazing how well everyone plays their role, there is always a script for any occasion, so people don't break decorum. I left them to their computers and stared out the window and surveyed the scenery.