Sunday, August 5, 2007

Plastic People

Lately I've been dreaming of plastic people. Last night's dream was about me, and two friends - I don't know who these friends were, or what their significance is, but we were all sort of entwined in some mystery that never really developed beyond just a sense of urgency.

To start out, one of my friends, a female, was living with her parents and for some reason forbidden from seeing either of us. The other friend, a boy, was her boyfriend of sorts. He would sneak into her bedroom window and stay in her room. I get a sense that he was protecting her from something, but that was never explained or made clear. I would wait outside her house while he would stay with her at night. When he would leave her room, he and I would leave together and go back to my house.

Our female friend then started to sneak out of the house. Her mother didn't like me, but for some reason we were both on the same side, mad at the girl for leaving in the middle of the night. We would work together to try to find her, then her mother would shove me out of the house.

Me and the boy stopped spending time at her house at night, and eventually left her alone. During my whole dream, this girl never spoke. She seemed disconnected from us even though we were so constantly worried about her. The last time we went to visit her, after we left we went to my house where I lived with three women. They were older women, and I get the sense they were my guardians. I don't know how old I was in the dream, but I think I was not an adult. These women were partying constantly and I don't know how I ended up in their care, but they didn't pay much attention to me. I took the boy to my room, where I seduced him against his will.

The next morning, one of the women I lived with was found dead. Then she shifted identities, the way people do sometimes in dreams; she became the friend we were watching over. Me and the boy took her body to this odd industrial area that had an incinerator. He took her clothes off her and drew a long, black line on her back with a Sharpie marker and folded her up and put her in a box. At this point, I realize she's plastic. She looks like one of those old Barbie dolls, before their limbs were bendy. Back when they were hard plastic and solid, their arms were always bent at a slight angle and you couldn't do much with them. Their arms were either down at their sides, straight out from their bodies, or above their heads. He had a hard time getting her arms to fit in the box, so he was struggling with her. He finally got her situated, but her head was turned around backwards and she just lay in the box blinking at us like she was confused. Then he put her on the conveyor belt and we watched her until she scooted into the fire.

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