Dream of: 15 June 2020 "A Hole In The Head" 

I am visiting the 386-acre Gallia County Farm (sold in 2016) with my father (1932-2016) and my mother (1931-2015). We are in the Farmhouse and my paternal grandmother Mabel (1908-1997) is also present. When I look at my cell phone, which is lying in front of me, I notice that a fly has landed on the screen. I pull out my black luger, aim the luger at the fly, and pull the trigger. As soon as I fire, I realize that I have made a terrible mistake by shooting right at my phone. I look at the phone which does not appear to be damaged. So I point the luger at the phone again, and again pull the trigger. When I look at the screen again, I now see definite cracks where the bullets hit the screen. I think something like, "How stupid can I be to do something like that?"

I pick up the phone, examine it, and discover that the screen consists of two layers of glass which are pressed together. Both layers have now come loose, are badly cracked, and are falling apart, although the phone itself does not appear to be damaged. I think perhaps the glass can be replaced if I can just find someplace to buy the glass to replace it. I pull out the glass pieces and below them I see circuitry and the electrical innards of the phone. I stick the glass back into the phone, but I can see that it is going to quickly fall apart. Nevertheless, I think I still may be able to temporarily use the phone.

I walk into the living room and see my grandmother Mabel here. She is around 40 years old and looks different from the way I remember her. I do not see my father anywhere and I ask Mabel where he is. She says that he left to go home (to Portsmouth) because he had some cleaning to do. I am disappointed to hear that because I would have liked to go with him since I also have some cleaning which I need to do. I reflect that I do not remember my father as being someone who cleaned things, but I think that he has grown so old that he has nothing else to do — so he has returned home to clean things up. I think that he has recently moved and that he is cleaning things in his new abode.

I am sitting in a chair and looking at my grandmother who is standing facing me on the other side of the room. She is staring straight at me. I begin to imagine myself as not being myself, but as being my father. I imagine something being in the middle of her forehead which he wants to remove. Imagining myself as my father, I pick up the luger, aim at the thing on her forehead, and fire. The luger discharges, but the thing on my grandmother's forehead is untouched. I think I did not aim correctly. In the role of my father, I aim a second time and fire. The gun rings out and I look at my grandmother. She has a red bullet hole right in the center of her forehead. She continues to stare at me with a shocked look on her face.

Commentary of 16 June 2020 

I seem to be two different people because the person I am in my dreams is not the same person as the one I am in my waking life. Although we share many of the same memories, I accept so many things to be true in my dreams which I simply would not accept in my waking life.

unless enlightened

you are not quite the person

who you think you are

Photo: My grandmother Mabel in South Shore, Kentucky circa 1949


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