Sunday, April 12, 2009

2009-04-12 Dream:  Myself, the Stranger

...we join the dream in progress (a car-chase / get to the airport dream).

It is a dark, gothem setting.  A car careens downhill and crashes at a dead end.  The father [played by me], who is dead (I'm not sure if he was a ghost, or a zombie, or dead in a "I'm really dead but I've got a small window of time within which I can act in the world of the living" dead), carries his infant son [also played by me] out of the car and places him at a street corner a half-block away from the burning wreck.  Then the father returns back to the car to die all the way.  

The process of moving the infant from the burning wreck has created a split.  Part of me is alive on the street corner.  Part of me is also a small wood button (who grows into a real human)  taken in by a mouse and a cat.  

There's a gap in my recall.  I've grown up raised by a mouse and a cat in a metal dumpster or some other urban metal-and-concrete venue.  I don't recall how, but I come face-to-face with the saved-infant me (the "real" me, who has my waking history).  

We're in a bank or office building.  It's sunny outside, but the building's windows are polarized and the room is dark.  "Real" me is wearing a business suit (a rare occurance in real life).  Button-self is looking at real-self and on one hand I'm looking at a stranger, but on the other hand, I know his history.   

I'm thinking that if we touch, there will be some kind of quantum-event or a matter-antimatter reaction.  But there isn't; we're two people with twined but separate histories.  A feeling of reversed déja vu fills me.

... and the dream moves on.
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