I dreamed Obama was a candidate in the Spanish general elections. It was election day and I went to cast my vote for him. I was looking around for the paper ballot but couldn't find it. I became desperate and went up to the lazy officials, blaming them for just sitting around rather than having the ballots ready. I left the polling station sadly. Walking around the corner, I witnessed Barack cleaning the foggy windows of an expensive home. I tried to run and tell him that I was unable to cast my vote, but I was too sad, my legs were too heavy -- I could not advance. I was moving in the same place. I saw him, in the distance, grow tired. He sat down on an empty wooden stool in a fetal position. He looked beautiful and peaceful, still as a sculpture.