Eternal Wandering of the Unconscious Mind

The dream opened on myself and a young, bald guy sitting in chairs next to each other, across from what was very obviously some sort of shrink or psychiatrist. The bald guy looked like his head had been colored in with pencil. The therapist was talking about how the memory wipe that was apparently being performed on the young man was nearly complete. I recalled that the memory wipe was to erase the recollection of the tragic death of our mother and sister - this guy was apparently my brother. Also, I knew that I had already had the procedure done as I could neither conjure up an image of the mother and sister or their untimely deaths.

It seemed that after having the memory wipe done on myself, I was suddenly adamantly against my brother having the procedure finished. I barely had a chance to express my opinion before, apparently, the wipe was complete.

We sat there for a couple more minutes, me stewing in my defeat, my brother staring off into space with a general look of confusion, and the therapist being annoying and therapist-y, until without warning, my brother suddenly freaked the hell out.

Something had gone wrong with the memory wipe and all of the gruesome/painful memories had come crashing back into his head at once. He leaped to his feet and in a fit of crazed emotion, sprinted out of the room.

I followed him outside, where it was in the depths of winter. My brother was decked out in skiing garb and skis and holding ski poles in his hands. As soon as I got a good look at the situation, he turned and took off down a snowy, sparsely wooded hill. I took off after him on my own set of skis.

We shot down the hill and I managed to overtake him with the intention of stopping both of us so I could reason with him or at least calm him down. However, we found ourselves skidding across a frozen lake at the bottom of the hill instead. I was keeping my balance out of pure luck, and I even thought for a moment that I might make it across the lake in one piece.

Of course, that would be far too boring.

As I sped across the ice, I looked up and saw, directly in front of me, a polar bear. Out of self-preservation more than anything, I swerved as hard as I could to the right and my skis cut into the ice and created a hole in the lake. I just managed to maintain enough momentum to keep from falling into the hole. Unfortunately, my brother was still right behind me, and I turned around just in time to see him drop into the freezing lake in a spray of ice and snow.

I threw down my ski poles reflexively and began grasping for my brother's hands to rescue him. As we tried to reach out to each other, we both began freezing into giant, immobile blocks of rock and ice. My hand became a giant, frozen chunk of ice, and I could barely move. My brother was slowly being encased in a thick layer of ice too, and I could see his lips moving - he was speaking to me as he froze and sank into the water. I strained desperately with every muscle in my body to reach his giant chunk-of-ice-hand, but all I could do was watch helplessly while he moved slower and slower until he stopped moving altogether. Shortly after that, I lost consciousness.

When I woke up, my ice had melted and I was completely alone, leaning against a stone wall. Neither the lake nor my brother's body were anywhere in sight. I was a disgusting, bloody mess, very aware that I was seriously injured but running on enough adrenaline and shock that the pain hadn't hit me yet.

I looked down and saw that I was in a hot pink pantsuit and I was holding a trumpet. In a weird sort of hazy delirium, I took the trumpet and ran down the nearest street until I stumbled across a jazz club. I burst inside and invited myself up onto the stage with the combo that was playing and took the opportunity to play a long, squealing, ridiculous trumpet solo, at the end of which everyone just kind of stared at me with their mouths hanging open. Not quite sure if their shock was a horrified shock or an impressed shock, I didn't wait around to find out but instead ran back out of the club.

That's when I woke up.


Also, side note, only because I mentioned it in the last post, Red Leader has been rescued from the Empire's clutches. Long live the Rebel Alliance.