I had a dream recently where I was a skinny body double that couldn’t interact with my fat, original self, lest I be found out and break the rules of the universe, so I dropped a little piece of green plastic for myotherself to gain their attention from a distance, but it skittered away too far and they turned around too far to pick it up. As I quickly approached, I was warp-smashed out a window from some form of repulsive force that existed between us. Running, I grabbed the railing over my head at which point I was elevated onto the roof. There I hurried away, and found a soggy insulation patch and a razor, which I used to cut my way back in. When I landed in the bedroom, I ran away and rolled under a dresser to hide, clutching the razor in my hand uncontrollably. The retrieval team would be there soon.
I was the imposter, displaced from my home despite being, in some physical ways, superior to my original, and, in other ways, worse (the surgery performed to make me a thin-body double had left me technologically beholden to the surgeon’s interests).
I think the “imposter insecurity” I seem to have in relation to my self-esteem stems from spending too much time away from home and friends, not being interested in the same things I used to like, not going to my old haunts, and not looking much like I used to.
I wouldn’t normally share dreams and existential interpretations, except for this: I found the exact piece of plastic used when browsing Wendy’s facebook page a week later. It was upon seeing the kid’s menu toys that I was forced to admit either:
A. The reality of prescience in my imaginings,
or
B. The ability of the Wendy’s down the street to market directly via implanted dreams!
Weird…?