Of the many dreams I had last night, one stood out as being long enough and bizarre enough to be worth sharing.
It began with me walking down the driveway of my house. It was no house I’ve ever lived in, but in the dream I knew distinctly that it was mine. I was a young boy, and I was making my way to play with my friends who were at the end of the driveway. As I reached the end of the driveway I found myself sinking first to my ankles, then to my wait, before finding myself in a small cove. We were swimming, and the road had turned into a small body of water. There was splashing, there was laughter, but I had obviously joined the group at a bad time; one of my friends was upset. He was being splashed, and made his way out of the water as I was making my way in. I knew he was upset, but I didn’t want him to go – I had just gotten there – so I tried to persuade him to stay. Sadly, he would not. So I threw one of those weighted sticks into the deep end of what had suddenly become a swimming pool, and told him that it wouldn’t be so bad if he just swam to the bottom to get it. He did not.
I followed him out of the pool and suddenly found myself in the middle of a group of people. A warm breeze was blowing, and I found myself looking at a small tropical stage lit by tiki torches. A performer was stepping onto the stage, and motioned with both hands for the band to begin. I was amazed as the band followed the changes and inflections of his voice. Suddenly a noise came from the crowd, and the singer stopped and approached the noise. It was a crying baby. He leaned over and picked it up. That’s when I knew who the singer was. It was Will Smith, and he continued his song while holding the baby. I knew I had seen enough.
I returned home and found that the laundry room built on the back of the house had suffered severe water damage, but it was not from the surrounding water. The water was dripping from the ceiling. The floor was strewn with wet towels and there was a powerful smell of mold. The labels on the detergent were peeling off. I looked harder at the labels, and that’s when I knew that something was wrong. They were from the distant past, and had no reason to be in that room. I was suddenly overcome by the fear that I would run into myself from the past. At that moment I saw a figure shuffling toward me, so I left the laundry room and got into my car. It was early morning, and the sky was black although tinted by the orange of streetlights. As I drove, I saw that the roads were covered by ice. I noticed an approaching car, and was afraid of the dangers of the road. Instead of continuing straight, I made a left hand turn.
Every morning I try to think about the meaning of my dreams, but this one leaves me stumped. Any thoughts?