Double Feature

November 22, 2010 at 1:36 PM | Posted in Journal | Leave a comment
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I actually had three dreams last night, but I only remember two of them.  Or maybe I do remember it.  It was a transition, like an intermission between story changes:

I was in my house in Jennings, where I lived 15 years ago, and I was upstairs sleeping.  I heard a noise downstairs and I went down to investigate.  It was supposed to be quiet down there.
I got down there and President Obama was sitting on the couch.  But he was laying back taking a nap.  Okay, that’s what I expected.  But where is his security?  Didn’t they hear that noise?
I walked through to the dining room and saw into the kitchen.  There was an older black man there, part of Obama’s security team.  Good.  He was wearing a pink housecoat over his pajamas, and he was making scrambled eggs.  He smiled at me and nodded, then took the call to his headset.
Obama was still napping, even though he was sitting straight up.  He did have his head tilted down and his eyes were closed.  I sat on the ottoman near him.
About then he woke up and opened his eyes.  He looked at me and smiled, and was about to say something when his security guy in the robe whispered to him, “It’s almost time, sir.”
Obama said, “Just a moment,” to him; to me, he asked, “Can you open the front door a little?”
I did, and we could hear the parade going on outside, passing the house.  A marching band and a group of singers was leading the crowd in rendition of the Soviet national anthem.  Obama rocked his head to the music and mouthed the words.  At the end, he sang the last line of it.
He looked at me, satisfied that all was well.  He said, “Well?  Shall we?”  He then led me out towards the curtain that I knew led to the balcony…

Intermission:

Later, I was walking/driving through an old neighborhood in St Louis.  There were big houses on either side of me–practically mansions.  I was thinking of them in terms of how defensible they were from zombies.  Sure, they were solid brick buildings, but they had too many windows.  Would bars on the windows help?
I would need to board up the ground floor windows, and do it securely.  Then I remembered that we had seen some zombies climbing up walls.  We would have to board up all the windows, and that little octagonal-shaped vent in the attic.  I was walking in the narrow alley between two tall houses when I thought this, and I looked up and around, to see if I could see zombies crawling on the walls above me.  They were like spiders…

Okay, this part is weird, even for a dream.  It has more time-shifts and paradoxes than normal, so let me see if I can set this right:

I believe the house we were in was my childhood house.  My early childhood house in Pine Lawn that I vaguely remember because we moved out of it before I was five.
I was an adult, walking around, observing but not interacting.  It was the 1960s.  Everything was in color but it was grainy, like early home movies.  There were two babies in high chairs next to each other being fed.  It was like a movie I was watching, too, in that I could see and hear everyone but I couldn’t interact or get close to anyone.
In the next scene, I believe it’s the same house, this time in the 70s.  the decor is slightly different–more brown paneling.  The babies were now toddlers or older–maybe five or six.
I was looking at them, and then I was one of them.  They were both boys.  I remember looking at the the other one, sitting in his chair with a plate of macaroni and cheese and something like jello.  He was eating and not paying attention to me, kind of like before where I could be in the scene but not interact.
Still, I knew something was different.  *Something* had happened.  I had made it.  I had passed through.  I realized that I had died, I had been dead, and I had been reincarnated, and now here I was inside this new boy.  I could live my life again!  And I knew it.  I was aware.
It wasn’t clear to me (because of the dream) if I was my own son, or if I was the son of a cousin or something like that.  I knew that I was related to my new self.
I leaned over to the other boy, who ignored me.  I said his name, which I don’t remember now but let’s just call him Ben.  “Ben!  It’s me!  It’s–”  and I don’t remember or couldn’t hear what I told him.  “I’m back.  I made it!  I told you I would!  I told I would cross over!”
The boy said something in between bites of food–not to me, but to no one in particular–“Where’s Bobby?”
And I sat back, smug and happy.  I was thinking that I wanted to try to remember how I did it, so I could do it again.  If I did this right, I could live forever!  And the fact aht I remembered my previous life (or at least I thought I did) made it that much better.  I was going to have some great teen years this time around.
In the back of my mind, before I woke up from this, I had the disturbing feeling, or sensation.  It was just the inkling of understanding what had happened to the first boy.
You see, the boy had already been born, it seems, before I died.  So he was already a person.  And then I get reincarnated into his body.  So…what happened to the boy that was there first…?

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