Hi! I'd love being helped out with this!
This dream begins as a confusing kind of drama acted out by a strange family, in a chaotic environment full of disorderly acts and crammed space; I don't seem to know any of them, the place is permanently invaded by strangers and the only thing I remember is that at some point the center stage is taken by the man that must be the "father", wearing a kind of white robe and a crown but more like an actor; he begins to lick the body of a newborn baby... The feeling gets blurred so I don't clearly know if this appears disgusting or "wrong", it's a thing I just see as an odd viewer.
So the transitional part of the dream is almost completely different, a peaceful, very rich image (where sound takes on, making it more vivid and moving). It's almost dawn, I felt I was lying on a wet and green rice field, in someone's company. As I remember he was just a dark and encircling presence, almost a shadow, of whom a pale face is the only thing enhanced for short moments, with no much accent. I think I know him because of certain remembrances, featuring an image of a famous etching; he covered me partially as on that image, making us sort of fusing with the weak and cold light that's barely appearing; we are both facing each other but I don't have a clear "picture", neither of really holding him, nor seeing for real our faces. It's more a sensation of some sort, and the "visual" picture it creates as it feels almost like an embrace... I remember mostly that sensation that becomes frozen, in the midst of a very real and natural atmosphere; I can feel the cool air contrasting with the soft warmth of the other body, even though we're not so close. And then the words I speak subtly and clearly, while a really intense cry of cicadas begins to rise among the dew covered grass and the soft blue that dissipates slowly as the day lightens up along with my voice... I say to him "This is all I (ever) wanted. Being here, both of us". I can't help but thinking it feels almost like being near death, as if we were some corpses lying there, still. After a while I see a general picture that allows me to watch to a leafy and strong, not so tall tree covering us, hearing some more of the accute and intensifying sound of the cicadas; then all begins to fade in that rare sensation of trying to identify what is all of it, if it's about a memory, a fantasy or illusion, or maybe a truncated thought lost in times that seemed never being meant to get us somewhere "real". So I appear far away from that place that looked like a poem I once wanted to be true, like the image someone told me that represented what he dreamed of, maybe thinking it simply isn't the person I thought I loved, nor the one I imagined... It just wasn't true. (He felt overwhelmed by my "words", put on the defensive and once said he had nothing to do with my actual dreams).
Then I appear to be back to school, finally I end up trying to get an exhibition on time; there are again lots of people, but now I recognize most of them. It gets late and the thing must begin but I haven't get all things organized and assembled, so it becomes a sort of performance of me doing the last chores in front of the supposed "audience". Before I get angry because a woman working in the front wall of the room takes my scissors, I go there and take them throwing a fierce glance towards her; later a friend tells me I should have not, because she's the one "supervising" the show, but I seem not having time to worry about that. The last thing I remember is it's night, I know because of electric lights, and a cousin comes near and tells me, as I'm pouring a very thin brown dust (I don't know what is it, maybe ashes, not dirt but something thinly milled) in some water paths I've shaped: "Oh, why are you painting the water again?"