The Peeling Dream (maybe in anticipation of agrochick78's thoughtful blog)
(public service: for those not wishing to partake of all details, skip to the end for a concise summary of dream)
I had a strange and disturbing dream.
I was in a large crowd on an open street and we were all moving in one direction, at first slowly, then at a trot, then at a run. Eventually everyone was running furiously, running away from something, some danger, some lurking harm. I wasn't frightened but alarmed.
Nonetheless, as I continued to accelerate, I happened to encounter and jump onto a glider that someone else was steering ever so close to the ground. (Yeah, I can be reckless like that in my dreams?even in real life!) So now I was flying and the guy who was flying it said he didn't mind me going along for the ride. But it was clear that we had to get away from the lurking danger coming up from behind. So we climbed from street level to high above the cityscape. And it there became apparent to me that there were tens or hundreds of thousands of people running below and--that they were all very young--teenagers or younger. But the guy steering the glider was older, as I was, and he said, ?You know, we'll have to hide." And when I asked why, he said because we were 'older'. And somehow I had the immediate realization that there were only youth in that society and that I was a criminal for having grown older and that I would be arrested or worse, if I were caught.
So the glider pilot guided the glider to a far away region, set the glider down in a sparsely populated forested area, and just took off running without me--apparently to hide as he had advised me to do also. I started running, too, but a police squad car (where did that come from?) noticed me and started chasing me. With wise feet, I ran and dodged and hid and avoided immediate arrest.
But then a fire truck came around a corner (where did that corner come from?) and found me standing in a yard in the open. So I just dropped to the ground hoping to go unnoticed. And although the firemen at first pretended not to notice me, they actually had, and stopped the vehicle, got out, and started gathering around me (still lying facedown on the ground), they still pretending not to see me. Then some policemen and others also joined this crowd and all were pretending not to see me--while they ate some syrupy and juicy foods and purposely let the syrup and juice slobber out of their mouths and onto my back and legs. They were obviously playing with me, and I knew it, but couldn't flee. Well, then, one of the cops says, "Should we finish it?" And the whole crowd roared with approval. So I knew the end was near and I expected death.
But at the moment, another aspect of myself peeled away from my body. In an energetic and physical sense, I split. And this "other" self was my younger self--as young as anyone else in the crowd. And this younger self remained unnoticed in the crowd since he was, indeed, young and not a criminal, and so, unsuspected and unhunted. Well, my younger self walked away from my tortured self, scouted around, and found a cache of weapons nearby (the ole Maxwell Smart hidden cache of weapons, no doubt!) and selected an automatic rifle he was familiar with. Then, very calmly, he returned to the crowd and asked the crowd of cops and firemen if he should 'finish the job' and, yes! yes! said all, as they raved with anticipation. So he, my peeled-self, aimed the rifle square at my head, put the finger to the trigger...then turned on them! And gunned them all down! Some initially only got injured, but my younger self being very efficient, methodic, and quite pissed off, assured all executions, one by one.
Moral of the story? (who knows, let me try): Never underestimate the young at heart.
Concise Summary: You lazy bastards! Read the whole thing! OK, OK! Just so not as to offend, here:
notforprophet finds himself no longer a spring chicken in a world of spring chickens. The spring chickens hate anything that isn't one of them, call it pluckaphobia. Chicken of chickens, notforprophet sprouts wings and flies away! Haha! spring chickens can't fly! But all that's up must come down. notforprophet hates down, but down, down he goes. The authorities, themselves spring chickens, feel like farmers who have found notforprophet in their henhouse. O this is going to be fun! While notforprophet slithers to the henhouse floor, his younger hidden aspect, forprophet, peels away (like the spirits from their dead bodies in the movie Ghost) and plucks around, himself a spring chicken. Pecking here and there, forprophet discovers a cache of ebola-tainted corn grain and feeds it to all of notforprophet's antagonists. Happy last good friday the 13th supper, dudes, ha. notforprophet wakes up realizing that he has been chewing on his goose down pillow and now has a mouth full of feathers!
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