Dream of: 28 August 2012 (2) "Dying Brother"

only the dead can be reborn

I'm in an apartment in a hospital-like room with my brother Chris (1957-1974) who is dying. Lying on his back, he's bloated and looks in terrible shape. He's probably in his mid teens. I pat him and notice the relish of feeling his body. Simply touching him is a good feeling. A black woman (around 30 years old) walks in. She is staying here in the room with Chris and she appears intoxicated on alcohol. She's not wearing a top and she even pulls down her pants half-way right here in front of me. Her pubic area is shaved and her pants are so far down that I can clearly see the long slender line of her vagina. The sight is more interesting than erotic. I don't know if she is a prostitute, but she is hardly appealing. At one point, nevertheless, she gives me a hug.

Finally, Carol (around 60 years old, the surrogate mother of my ex-girlfriend, Michelle) walks in and looks at Chris. He's able to open his eyes and look at me, but his eyes are bulging abnormally out of his head. Obviously he's in bad shape. I don't want Chris to hear me tell Carol that he is dying, but I whisper to her that Chris has muscular dystrophy and finally I manage to communicate to her that Chris is dying.

I also mention to Carol that I'm not sure yet whether I can trust the black woman. I think I can, but I also think that most people in this place are only here to rip people off.

Carol and I walk outside and find a big old brown pick-up truck which we board. Carol drives as we ride around the ghetto area of a small town with blacks walking the sidewalks. I'm not exactly sure where we are, but there are no high rise buildings - everything is one or two stories. I gradually realize that Carol is unaccustomed to driving a big truck like this one. She is having difficulty controlling the truck and when she finally barely bumps into another car, I can hear the woman who's driving the car say something like, "I've been hit." At first I think we're going to have a problem, but Carol just keeps driving without stopping.

She turns into what appears at first to be an alley, but which turns out to be a cave, and she drives all the way to the end of the dead-end cave. As she attempts to turn back around, I notice several small children (5-6 years old) in the lighted cave. They have built little brown-rock buildings which look like tiny rock igloos each big enough for one small child. It looks as if Carol is going to back over one of the little children and I'm afraid the children are going to start screaming. Somehow, however, Carol manages to turn around without injuring the child, and we ride back out of the cave.


Carol, walking ahead of me down a street, turns into an alley. I follow her, but I can't find her, and I'm worried because this is such a bad area of town. I holler out her name at the top of my lungs. Finally some friendly black people holler to me and tell me that Carol is "down there," meaning further down the alley. I continue walking, anxious to find her.

 The preceding dream is an actual dream included in my dream journal, and does not describe actual facts 

Copyright 2012 by luciddreamer2k@gmail.com