Blue_Opossum

Morning of January 23, 2017. Monday.



I become aware of activities I must do for a movie being made that is about a wealthy German family (in Germany and on Germany’s side when the war starts) during World War II (about as far from my real-life associations as possible). I am a boy actor, probably around ten years of age.

One part of the set is reminiscent of the Loomis Street house, another somewhat suggestive of the southwest Cubitis bedroom. Still another part (in the last segment) seems somewhat like the kitchen of our present home. I have no coherent familiarity with my real-life status other than during the last part of the waking events.

There is a scene where I have to walk from one area in the house, go outside, and then go back into the house into a different room and look in a mirror (though the mirror curiously seems to be on an outside wall of the house that faces the backyard). I am aware that I only have a white shirt on. This does not bother me at all because I assume that all the scenes presently being filmed are from the waist up. I am satisfied with my appearance at this point.

At another point, I absentmindedly enter the room that is somewhat like the southwest Cubitis bedroom. An unknown female is there and sitting on the side of a bed, apparently on a cigarette break. On the left side of her face are parallel indentations, almost like the map of where a few stream beds converge (my actual thought within my dream in this scene). She wants to be alone at this time.

There is a scene where a fictional relative is going into the military at the start of the war. I am standing outside (seemingly at the south side of the Loomis Street house) between at least two adults (and clearly aware of my smaller, shorter body and status as a child actor), an unfamiliar female on my right and at least one unfamiliar male on my left. The camera is on us (filming from east of us). I feel “perfect” as I turn my head slowly to the right, to briefly acknowledge a crow in the sky behind me (which is flying north), making sure part of my left profile is filmed (for at least a second or two) and that the angle of my face at each point is “perfect”. I focus with clear intent to keep my stoic expression “perfect”.

Eventually, my dream starts to lose cohesion and I am slowly more aware of at least some of my real-life history. Still, I am writing a letter to inform my sister Marilyn (deceased) that I am going to be in a Hollywood movie, indicating some of the details.

In the last segment, I look in a mirror again. My face is becoming more and more unusual, almost like the classic Frankenstein monster. I have patches of green skin on the left side of my face. It is very wrinkled in that one area, though the wrinkles are in long straight vertical lines. There are what appear to be stone-like features peaking out from parts of my forehead and cheeks. The “stones” are of various colors and textures but are likely meant to be some sort of oversized acne.

Eventually, I realize my left eye is bulging and I touch it to see that it is like a small plastic dome that is slightly cracked more to the left. (Oddly, I can still see clearly from it within my dream even though it is almost sealed shut.) This is because a crack in my left cheek had reached its perimeter.

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Losing teeth dreams have nothing on this level of dream-self cessation (which otherwise usually have no “interpretation”).

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