Insane Robotic Baby Mode

Dream: Abby and I are sharing one of the worst head colds either of us can remember, so our sleep last night was marginal at best. Perhaps that, more than anything else, created this bizarre dream:

I was helping a family plant a garden. One of the first things I do is accidentally cut down a medium-sized tree the family had planted when they moved in. I apologized profusely. I discovered that the father was planting salad in the garden instead of seeds, but I didn’t say anything. I went inside to brush my teeth and get ready to go to my own house on the same block. The family insisted they brush their teeth with me, only to be mortified to find the sink was full of dog food.

At some point I got lost looking for my house, which has the oven on the outside. I run into a man with a console stereo on wheels, which seems to be churning out numbers and letters. He gives me multi-turn directions to get back to my street, none of which I understand.

Unable to find my house and facing a very steep street, I revert to robotic baby mode. In this mode, I am wearing a blue plastic diaper and football-like shoulder pads, and am able to ignore my troubles because I am a baby.

My friend Steph shows up, and tells me she can tell who is insane and who isn’t by analyzing small pieces of alphabet soup and carpet fibers that float past us in the street. Our friend Amber is an alphabet soup “M” with a red carpet fiber in her. When we tell her she is insane, she becomes real and hugs Steph, then hugs me saying “your hugs are so smooth!”

She begins to walk away into the sunset, past an overturned KFC truck with changing letters in its logo.

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1 Comment

  1. …the mounting rage then culminated into a full bore loss of reality, her slender evangeline arms raised straight like greedy flowers stemming into hot white bulbs of energy where all matter before us was drawn, tight, invisible, and unalterably fatalistic as the last black hole that will swallow us all.

    Mouths were silently agape but we felt/heard the piercing screams all the more terrible.

    Knowing the impossibility of answer, I yet unconsciously spoke the word “why?”

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