Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Nothing to do with the Red Shirts

So much excitement in the real world, I almost forgot to tell you an interesting experience in the other world ... the Dream Time that is.

Last night I dreamed that I was a a futuristic undertaker in a funeral home that was located in a vast, antiseptic shopping mall.  In this future, there is a technology where you coat people's faces before death with a semi-sentient gel which absorbs the essence of their personalities and in a sense, becomes their soul. This gel is then stripped off and is a kind of mask, so that anyone may adopt the guise of any dead person.

In my dream, I was the master of this technology and at one point, looking up through the ceiling, I could see floors and floors of my store room in which hung these masks that contained dead souls, including celebrities like Cicero.

A close member of my family was in the funeral parlor.  It was his funeral, but he was not actually dead yet; in this dream, people have the funeral services before death so that the gel can be applied to their faces to suck away the last remnants of their life force.

In my dream, everyone is waiting for this person to die.  But he doesn't.  He doesn't seem to realize that it is his own funeral.  We need the gel to set and the magic mask to be stripped off so that his body will be faceless and his soul will reside in my upstairs collection.

As I watch, part of the mask peels off, revealing clumps of dark hair ... I know who the dying person is, but I don't want to say.

Then I woke up.  It was about 4 am or so and I slept fitfully thereafter which is why I still remember the dream very vividly.

I see that I'm getting a lot of hits now that the Guadian has outed me as a political blogger, but I am not.  I use this blog to talk to my real friends about what is happening around me ... that's all.

If I can figure out how to tweet while dreaming, I'll let you know.

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