I dreamed he was dressed in a bear costume with his face showing and he was smiling. He was by the garden gate, not letting me out of the house. Quite literally being a ‘gatekeeper’ – a barrier to progress.
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A few weeks ago, I had a dream where Trump was on the sidelines of an NFL game. A kicker was practicing kicking into the net. Trump tried to swoop in and kick it first, but missed and slipped into a mud puddle. Then he tried to play it off like it didn’t happen. Great dream.
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My dream was that there was some kind of outdoor event or press conference we were all expecting Trump to show up to. I was holding a clipboard, and was there in some kind of “official” capacity. We were waiting and waiting, and then suddenly I am in the back of a limo with trump himself, on our way to the event. He had a sour look on his face. He talked to me but his face wasn’t really moving. He was berating me and telling me I sucked at my job. I woke up feeling bad about myself and ashamed.
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I am running for president against Donald Trump- and I am not afraid of him in the slightest. I see him for what he is & can name him out loud. He leaves me taunting phone messages which see stupid and childish to me. I will be speaking out tomorrow against him and plan to annihilate him with the truth. I am not scared about what he might do to me because I will not be around. I receive cold phone calls from him. I am trying to arrange a meeting. After some more Donald bullshit I receive another call where he says “I don’t think I will be meeting with you. There is no need as I am also in possession of a last edition print of your most precious “Saturnalia series” given to me by you to commemorate…”
And I wake up.
(I have no idea what a Saturnalia series” is)
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I had a nightmare that I was following behind Trump and his Secret Service people as they walked through a forest. Eventually they got to a log cabin and went inside. A little while later, a young, black man knocked on their door for something and I knew they were going to shoot him. Trump got a shot gun and shot the man through the door, even though the man and I had been yelling that it was okay and that he wasn’t a threat.
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Picture Donald Trump, in the back of a pickup truck, being detained and questioned by officials. (I think I like the way my mind works when I dream!) He was on his way to an event, perhaps. I don’t know why he had been walking down the sidewalk or street instead of riding in his motorcade. He hadn’t alerted the local officials that he’d be in the area. He didn’t think he needed to tell anyone his business. He was cocky and arrogant. He’s the President of the United States… more importantly he’s Donald Trump. He doesn’t have to tell anyone anything. He’s above the law, above rules and regulations, above common sense and courtesy. The local officials weren’t having any of it. They were determined to verify he was who he said he was and his reasons for being there. They weren’t taking his word for it. They weren’t succumbing to his bullying. The dream was brief and it ended there. I saw it as if I was driving by in slow-moving traffic but was able to catch the gist of what was happening.
Even though the dream contained an act by local officials of standing up to Trump, I didn’t feel elated or gleeful or vindicated -in the dream or when I woke or now. I felt and feel numb, sad, mournful, stunned. The fact that the episode was happening at all overshadowed the fact that Trump was being held accountable.
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I just recalled this dream I had last night.
They gathered up all of us that weren’t Trump supporters…to kill.
45 Dreams Project 
I was on a commuter bus and we were on our way to pick up Joe Biden. He was sitting on the front stoop of a brown stone waiting for us after a long day working on our behalf in Washington. This was a regular day for all of us, including Biden.
All of the sudden, the narrow road was blocked off by an immovable white wall. The driver had to make a sharp turn up another more narrow road and further away from getting Biden. At every turn we tried to make to get back on route, we were violently blocked by a new army or military police with machine guns and workers putting up new brick walls. Simultaneously, some people got on the bus, took our money and our personal freedoms.