I was at a place like a theme park with roller coasters, like Six Flags Magic Mountain, and it was also next to Dodger Stadium.  At first I was noticing a couple people were seated on a particular ride, but it was only a few spots taken out of many possible– very sparse utilization considering the total capacity.  So I assumed that it was due to some type of gradual re-opening plan in the wake of the pandemic.

Then suddenly a square platform dropped down from an overhead ceiling and came to rest on the ground level, much like if an elevator was in the middle of a room, but with a floor only and no other walls, only some stabilizing rails at the corners.  There were several pieces of luggage on the platform.  It then went back up, but some of the duffle bags had shifted; part of at least one piece was suddenly outside the edge of the platform, so it became pinched between the ceiling and platform floor, and that prevented the mechanism from going all the way back up to flush with the ceiling.  There were people all around who wanted to help it get all the way back up, myself included, so I did a magic levitation where I was able to jump up and hover above normal height by pressing down on the air with my hands as it could temporarily support my weight with that brief intensity in my energy and focus.  That got me closer to it, so I was able to swat the pinched bag, trying to shove it back inside the gap.  It was a good attempt, but didn’t work.  I recall getting a good view of the ceiling; it was like a grid of illuminated white squares.  Either by automation or manual control, the platform came back down to ground level.  This time, however, there were several police officers wearing blue uniforms standing around it with their guns drawn.  I wasn’t sure what their intention or plan was, maybe to shoot-up the bags so they wouldn’t cause any further obstruction.  But then suddenly out of nowhere, the black-ops, military-style, unmarked black-uniformed crew popped up and shot down all the police officers.  In an instant, boom, all the guys in blue were mowed down, dead.

It was a dramatic turn in the intensity of the situation.  It was like Oh shit, time to GTFO of here, and I noticed that my buddy J was there, and we were of the same mind to just get away fast.  I recall moving through a typical city square where I saw a bike cop.  Perhaps I once might have considered him to be a symbol of safety, but not in this case.  I thought maybe the black-team was on a larger mission to take out every blue uniform guy in town– who was I to say what their greater plan was? So I didn’t trust the bike-cop would restore order or provide safety; I considered being near him as taking an unwise risk, since he may well have become a target.  So we kept going.  I was doing a kind of dolphin-kick swimming motion through the air, just a few feet off the ground, wrapped up in my variegated wool blanket like a burrito.  We seemed to successfully escape the danger. J was out ahead of me, and he morphed into a large blue bird that resembled something like a tropical parrot.  He flapped his wings a few times, then came to rest on a nearby building’s window sill on the ground floor.

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