Dream Journal: Run Down House

It was a pastiche of old houses. One single storey, of a sort, narrow, but long. There was an attic-like structure atop it, in which there was a bed. I had I think a roommate, but not necessarily a partner.

Walking out the back door, I found a familiar area, marked off with mesh fences and high posts, in some disrepair. At the very edge, looking down, I saw the side of the building, this massively tall apartment complex, dingy and rundown over the course of years. The building across from me was clean and shiny, with potplants on the verandahs, and a modern, elegant design.

I walked the end of this little yard, and found another door, which I opened, and found it was just a courtyard of the top floor; that what I’d thought was a closet in the main house connected to a hallway. Then I moved further and found another segment that opened wider.

I found… people living in my house. They weren’t roommates, they were… lodgers? People I’d invited in, people who were there because they didn’t have elsewhere to go. They shared my food, I cooked for them, I reminded them of problems.

And I kept moving through this sprawling place, solving peoples’ problems – for a little while – then found the back of it, the playground, was a car park? It attached to a road, that was even level with it. So you looked over the edge of the road, and there, another sheer drop.

I woke up while I was hauling concrete blocks, bound with tattered old metal and reinforcement, across the rooftop, to try and solve someone‘s problem, while the sun and moon rose at the same time, the sky cut halfway between night and day.

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