It was a strange dream. All dreams are strange by definition, of course.
But this one felt a bit like a script. Not perfect, but with a lot to think about.
I was aware that I was dreaming and I was also quite fascinated by the various images and moments that I was experiencing.
We were in New York, on the Upper West Side, heading South. I appeared to be floating down broadway and around Columbus circle then, right next to Time Warner Center. I saw something within the lobby. Though I do not remember what exactly it was, it felt familiar. Perhaps because I have been in that lobby quite a few times.
Then a weightless drift through the shop of the Craft Museum. And in it, on a shelf was a little LEGO train cattle car. And as I was moving father and farther away from the Craft museum, I saw my youngest son standing at the glass door, looking towards me as if to wave goodbye. I waved back and ensured him that I would soon return.
But I wanted to get to the MoMA.
The MoMA is on the East Side and getting there was in some ways fairly realistic and on the other hand also peppered with strange looking characters.
Then there was one of those shambolic construction site tunnels through which i wanted to get through. This thing continued for a while, and around corners, up and down. Many old ladies in front of me chatted much and also apparently wanted to get to the Museum of Modern Art.
We suddenly all emerged at a villa courtyard in Brooklyn. Perhaps it was somewhere in Williamsburg. After discovering that the location had something to do with music, and after the many ladies disappeared into a music performance, I looked back to where we all came from. There should have been the East River. On the other side Manhattan. The river was no longer there. A valley had replaced it. It was mostly grassy and a soft wind moved the blades of grass in a way that made them appear to be like green water.
Massive flocks of birds flew over the valley and also over us. Some were heading towards Manhattan, some came over us. Some even seemed to call our location home?
Swallows were zipping around in somehow beautiful formations. And then there were all Starlings. And they kept flying towards the swallows and devouring some of them. Both in flight and on the ground.
It was such a spectacle that I decided to wake up and write it all down. I had seen enough, for this time.
The second I became aware of the outside of dream reality, I heard a plane. It was an actual plane about to land in Frankfurt Airport.
The time was around 5AM. This is the time when the first plane from New York arrives.
Pieces of the dream immediately disappeared. But so many of them also crystallised. I had dreamt something akin to a story of unlikely predators and human memory of being swallowed. It was not just that the whole story began near Columbus Circle, a place that even in name celebrates a very controversial figure in history. Ironically right on that circle is now a building complex reminding us of when AOL took over Time Warner. Also on that very circle is Trump Tower, of course. There were just so many references and symbols in the dream that it would be boring to explore them all. The Starlings devouring the Swallows is a fitting picture concluding this small journey into the memory remix.
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