Who Says You Don’t Dream In Cryo?
I am staring at myself in a mirror atop an old-style porcelain sink. I wash my face and hands, it seems like the logical thing to do. It’s so real, there doesn’t seem to be more grime in this movie, but it is very organic. Is this a gas station? The washroom is as small as a closet. I exit by the door into the catatonic heat of full noon-day sun. A stream, grass, and some whales crossing at a culvert. They are so far away they look like lizards floating across the dried up riverbed that runs through the midst of this wide grassy ditch, but they are definitely whales. Smaller, and more lean than back when they didn’t walk on land but still the most massive mammals around I suppose. They are smiling at me – that’s how I know this is a dream. And since when do whales cross at a crosswalk? though there are no obvious signs of any human markings, how do they know where to cross, or else it is some secret whale pathways? As the last of the whales dissapears over the bank further down the ditch, my attention drifts back to my surroundings; I appear to be on some farmland. I feel utterly calm, not confused by this curious place, it is so completely wide, open, empty, and calming.
I walk across the dried river bed, with its trickling inner stream, and cross a stacked rail fence into a large, open, fertile field.
I am naked. I cross the field and walk up the steps of a farm residence and sit on the small wooden deck at the back entrance. I am acutely aware of the lack of human presence in this world. The sensory perception I use to determine this is one I have never realized I had until now, like a constant sound suddenly obvious by its absence. I sit down and am glad there is nobody around to see my nakedness.
When from the distance I see a woman walking towards me.
I am aroused, which is embarrassing. And now I see a tiny dust cloud kicking up hazily far away on the dry dirt road, void of sound. Gradually it becomes bigger, closer; Apparent there is also a schoolbus arriving at this very location. Out in seemingly the most uninhabited space in this dreamscape hemisphere people are returning to their place of birth, for a birthday party. I am one of them, but they do not know me.
The bus stops, the children disembark, and cluster around me. Why am I here? Who am I? They are curious. There is no sound in this world, or the sound is muted like it is bouncing around inside hollow head. Hollow and Empty. A sun washes over everything, it’s light is warmth. In the distance the woman is coming closer, her figure breaking and shimmering in the heat.
They ask me questions, and I reply.
– Who are you?
– I am me. Who are you?
– We are.
– What are you doing here?
– It is our birthday. It is yours too, did you not know?
– No I didn’t know. I am new here.
This makes them laugh.
– What is your name?
They laugh again.
– Do you know Wylhil?
– What is Wylhil?
– Wylhil is you.