Dream of: 05 August 2017 "Driverless Vehicle"
intelligence creates the
stories told in dreams
My father is allowing some men to salvage a house which he owns. They are in a dump truck which is parked in the alley behind the house - but a couple doors down the alley, for some reason. The truck is parked across the alley, perpendicular to the way the alley runs so that the rear of the truck is toward the houses, while the front of the truck is pointed toward a field on the other side of the alley.
I board the rear of the dump truck to see what the men have already salvaged. I look inside a metal, vat-like container about a meter long and a half meter wide, and see 20-25 old, round, metal door-handles which the men have removed from the interior of the house. All the handles have been painted beige and all appear to be in good shape, although they are all common and not fancy. I wonder if there might be a glass handle among the batch, but clearly there is not.
I have heard that old door handles are valuable and I have seen a television-show - although I cannot remember the name of the show - which describes salvaged door-handles as being valuable. I ask one of the men if he has heard of the show. I think that these door-handles in the container simply need to be cleaned up, although they clearly do not look particularly valuable. They look rather common to me, so I do not pay them much mind.
Something else in the back of the truck, however, attracts my attention. It is a much larger and irregular in contour. It also is painted in the same dull beige color. I can see that some of the paint has begun to wear off the object, and finally I discern that this object is a lamp, perhaps a half meter tall. The lamp is quite exquisite. It has dark green, glass shades which consist of rectangular pieces of glass maybe five centimeters long. Even though much of the paint has come off, I cannot completely imagine exactly how the lamp would look because it still has so much paint on it.
I would like to take the lamp and show it to my father. I am a little peeved with him because he has simply given away everything in the house without my first having a chance to go through it. It looks as if much good old stuff was in the house which I may have been able to salvage myself.
While I am still in the rear of the pickup truck, I notice that the truck has started rolling toward the field on the other side of the alley. A somewhat steep embankment is on the other side of the alley and leads down to the field. When the truck reaches the top of the embankment, it suddenly begins to tip.
A lone one story building which may be an old gas station is sitting in the field. Some men are working around the building, and a few other men are circulating in the field.
The truck slowly eases down the embankment. No one is in the cab to control the truck. I do not know if the salvage-men are watching, but I simply lie down in the back and hope that the truck does not crash as it slowly careens through the field, first to the right, then back toward the left, barely missing a group of men who almost look like soldiers and who are marching in the field.
The truck slows down. It looks as if it will stop without crashing and that everything will be ok.
Commentary of 05 August 2017
I am the same person in my dreams that I am in daily life. Yet, in the dream, I accept a different version of reality. For example, I would not accept that my father were still alive in waking reality. Yet I do so in dreaming reality.
The "door handles" remind me of "my dreams themselves," how most dreams are common like the metal door handles, how a few are more appealing like the glass door handle, and how yet a few more are resplendent like the green-glass shaded lamp.
As far as I know, no "dream-archives" exist in the world. Maybe the world needs a place where all people can store their dreams indefinitely. Without a trustworthy method of preservation, most people's dreams - like the rest of their earthly lives - will simply vanish and be forever unsalvageable after they die.
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