Night of January 10, 2014. Friday.
I am in a small room reminiscent, for some reason, of the first part of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven”. An elderly Caucasian male wearing reading glasses is working on a problem. I have seen this before. I look at his desk. A (mostly white with triangular spots) cookie jar in the form of an owl is overturned on a higher shelf to his left. He is writing equations.
“It is two”, I say, “or, if you keep going, two two two two…or if you want…twenty-two.”
“Stop it!” he says. “I can’t get there. I can’t. I won’t! I don’t want to know it all!” (This reminds me of some sort of odd blend of the last part of “The Keep” and “The Changeling” which are otherwise completely unrelated other than there being an annoyed elderly man making a choice between two things.)
I show him some patterns, mostly only personal symbols gathered over a lifetime. “Look, it is Seventy-Seven Sunset Strip.” He nods. “My wife’s name is Zsuzsanna…the seven is a seven on a plane, becoming a Z, sort of like the mirrored twos being the heart on the plane, and there are two sevens. The audio reversal of seven is nevus, which means Yin has a seven-shaped scar above her iris - well, on her eyelid. So…Two Zs and two Ss…Zsuzsanna…”.
“Plane?” he asks. “Yes, it’s plain to see,” I say sarcastically. “Plane,” he ponders. Suddenly a woman in the blue and gold Chiquita Banana outfit, shaking shakers and doing a sort of partial tango (in positioning) appears, singing “the rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain” twice, before walking into the wall like a ghost. “What the f- was that?” he says (as Melvyn) quickly. “I don’t know,” I reply, “it’s your dream…” Then he is Ian.
“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” he asks, as Ian, “That’s from Edgar Allan Poe…”
“No, it isn’t,” I reply, “it’s from Alice…”
“No!” he cuts me off, slapping his right fist on the desk.
“Actually, the audio reversal of two is ‘hoot’,” I say, pointing to the owl and feeling quite silly. “Hoot hoot hoot.”
“There are kids in the beds!” he says worryingly as Bill (exactly as in the Twilight Zone movie scene). “That is Oliver and Lorenzo, two of my sons,” I say. I can hear their laughing through the walls.
Then I decide to become more serious and review what I know, but he ignores me. I start to say “Two two Timothy two two twenty-two white horse spirit two two” to open the gate to the higher hidden levels of continuity and to morph everything randomly (to a point). “The gate to the higher levels is f-kity f- f- f-kity f-” (censored) he says casually, as Ian.
“No it isn’t,” I laugh. “F and K are somewhat outliers which is why the lowly use those words so often to stay on the lower planes. Just divide any English paragraph into any other one anywhere and you should start to see it.”
“What about the two Zs in Zsuzsanna?” he says sarcastically. “That’s the name of an outlier if I ever heard one.”
“Very clever,” I say, “but the two Zs are actually implying twenty-two.” He cannot win. I continue speaking fractal entropy in discernible English “code” (mostly “two two two…”) and the room starts to dissolve in dust-mote-like sparkles and yellowish fire but I am in warm blue light. Suddenly it’s the male voice of the elderly man from the Twilight Zone movie (Bill Quinn, deceased April 29, 1994) from the “Kick the Can” story. He wants to come with me as I start to age in reverse, being younger, as in the movie, but I tell him that he cannot and am holding a “blue flaming sword of truth”. It is kind of an eerie scene, I suppose. The other two during the “revolving character” transitions were Melvyn Douglas (died August 4, 1981), and Ian McKellen, still alive.
“dream journal synchronicity” tag added because of this post being after mine: http://www.dreamjournal.net/journal/index.cfm?username=TheMessenger&dream_id=190752