Thursday, June 18, 2009

Dream - Something like Superman

On the morning of April 4, 2009, I had a dream of being at a shopping center, and then became Superman, or something like him.

In the dream, I was going back to an L-shaped shopping center with my brother, who is about a year and five months younger than I am. We both seemed to be younger than we are now, perhaps as much as three decades younger, putting us in our twenties.

We had been at the shopping center earlier that day, I think. It was not some place we went to very often. It was kind of out on the edge of things, on the edge of a different town I think. It was an older shopping center.

It was night, and we were walking across the dimly lit parking lot toward a major store, going past the leg of one side of the L, closer to the road than the shopping center. The store we were going to was on the end of the other leg, toward the road. A few other people were around. My brother and I were talking.

Around halfway there, maybe a little more, I began to burp, mostly silently, each time I breathed out. It got worse and worse, until I was even spitting a little. I knew I shouldn't have had that cereal, I thought, annoyed. I tried to suppress it, and by the time we reached the building had pretty much succeeded.

We went in the store, going through the big glass doors. After a while I went out a door to the left that led to the shopping center aisle. I went down the aisle, working my way down the shopping center all the way to the other end. We got separated at some point.

Then the dream seemed to repeat itself, unless what happened before was something that happened at an earlier time. Again we were casually heading across the parking lot to the main store in the dark, but when we reached it we found that it had massive chains across the doors. We looked at each other. Had it gone out of business and closed already? We knew the shopping center was in decline, but hadn't expected this so soon. We went down the shopping center and tried another one, perhaps just an entrance to the shopping center, and that was also chained. We walked along it some more, getting closer to the other end now, and finally found an opening that wasn't chained and went in. We got separated again at some point, and at some point I went back out and was slowly, tiredly walking along in the walk that ran along the outside. It seemed to be getting early morning now, like the sun had just come up.

I went out into the parking lot, and to the dirt beyond it, where there weren't any more buildings. A wind was blowing. I turned and faced it, facing into the sun I think, letting its light wash over me, leaning forward into it with my arms back, palms turned slightly towards it. I leaned forward more and then lifted up into the air, flying low and very fast, the wind rushing against me, my head turned up to face the wind, my arms still trailing back, slightly spread. I flew along with a big smile on my face. I was enjoying it immensely.

I flew toward a section where the land was lifted up in sharp hills, like objects underneath poking up through a stretched, heavy wet blanket. The area was strangely colored, a patchwork of reddish pink and white and charcoal, spongy looking, like meat sliced across the grain, like ham with areas of fat and areas where charcoal smoke had blown across it, leaving a coating. The different colored sections were in different shapes, some larger, some smaller, some more triangular, others squarer with a rounded corner or two, the hills sticking up like bony shoulders or hips trying to break through the meat.

I flew back and forth and around, dizzyingly, getting higher as the hills got higher and higher, wondering if I could do it, wondering if I could keep going higher or if I would fly against them. Finally there were two sharp peaks left and I had to just get past them. I could see the low, slightly rolling land beyond, still oddly colored, the light of the low early morning sun just starting to wash across it. I wondered if I could make it over to it. I didn't have much energy left. I flew toward the peaks, very low, starting to go between them toward the land beyond, as things were graying and fading out...

I woke up on a dark couch in what appeared to be my grandmother's house in Arizona, a house we had lived in before she did. I was on one of two couches in the room. Had it all been a dream? A few other people were there. Nearby was a man who I recognized as my father, but who didn't look anything like my father in real life. He had dark hair and was slim and around medium height, maybe slightly less, and was wearing dark clothes, though the shirt was a little lighter I think. When I woke up he quickly leaned over me, reaching out a hand to touch me. Then he began walking around, looking very agitated.

It seems they had found me laying on the ground somewhere near the shopping center. No one knew what had happened. He kept talking about it, trying to find out or figure out what had happened. There was some worry about me taking drugs (something I have never done). He worried that it was an intentional attempt to kill myself. I didn't have any memory of it, and mostly just stared at him.

Then, finally, after having some discussions with someone, possibly someone who had been out there, he started talking about me flying, and about me being Superman and trying to kill myself. Trying to kill myself, when I had just started to get my powers back. Purposely crashing into the ground from a great height, purposely heading straight down in a nose dive. Someone had seen me do it. They had a witness. My father was very agitated about it, and seemed to think that great things had been planned, things that wouldn't happen if I died.

I just stared at him and didn't say anything. I didn't remember any of that happening. The last thing I remembered was flying and losing consciousness. It did seem possible, though, that I was Superman, or at least a version of him, perhaps an inherently less powerful one.

Then I was somewhere else, a darkened place with a series of rooms. Some other people were there, and it felt like I was Clark Kent, in a transition period when I was starting to go from college to business, though still in college at the moment. It seemed to be a place I was staying with some other people, a place we were just moving into. One of the other people was Lex Luther, looking like the Smallville TV show version of him. Sometimes Clark Kent also looked something like the Smallville TV Lex Luther, though with hair, hair that was a bit shorter and lighter than was normal for him. The hair was combed back but was standing up, not laying down, and was only about one and a half to two inches long. I also watched from outside the scene, from slightly above them, as a disembodied presence.

The people, including me as Clark Kent, walked around in the darkened rooms, calmly, matter of factly talking about things. As we talked, the Clark Kent character kept changing. His face got wider and squarer and older looking, with lines, and his hair grayed some and got thinner, even getting sparse in the back, forming the beginnings of a bald spot. I thought it was strange in someone who was supposed to be so young, and the face didn't look at all like Clark Kent now.

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