a dream I had about going back to the past

The year seemed like 1987, but, based on how old I seemed, it was probably a few years later. I think I was at my uncle Gabe’s old house at first, with him, Too-Too and Tobe. He was yelling at us, not really angry but in a half-joking sort of way, as he often did. I remember laughing without worrying about getting in real trouble for it. Even then I knew what was going on, that I had somehow warped back to the past, but I don’t think I mentioned anything about it until later. By then, Tobe and Cordell were gone. It was just me and Gabe, but now we were in the dining room of my grandmother’s old house.

I told him that it was going to sound real crazy what I was about to say but to basically hear me out. He was listening but I could tell he wasn’t really taking me seriously, which was fine. “I’m from the future,” I said before telling him my future (present) age and presumably the future (present) year. I don’t remember what all I told him but I remember telling him that he looked very much the same, just with a bigger belly, to which he replied with a dry “I hate you.” A joking comment like that would be out of character for him in real life, but it was funny in the dream. So I chuckled before continuing on.

I could tell he still wasn’t taking me seriously though, let alone believing me. He seemed to think I was setting-up some kind of elaborate joke. But I wanted him to know I wasn’t playing around, that I really was “from” the future or at least knew what was going to happen up to the year 2013. I even told him that I could tell him who dies and who lives on. I’d already implied that he and I were still alive, but I was thinking about other family members or, since no major family members of ours have died in all that time; his father, my grandfather, was the last one and he died in early 1987; celebrities.

I must’ve somehow had or thought I had the ability to go back and forth between the past (present) and the present (future) at will because, in order to prove it to him, which I was becoming increasingly more desperate to do, I came-up with the idea of getting on the internet; I asked if he knew what the “internet” was and he didn’t seem to know, so I gave him a brief description of it; and looking up tomorrow’s date to see what, if any, celebrities would die. I asked what date it was and I could’ve sworn he agreed that the year was 1987. Again, I seemed older than I would’ve been that year.

I would’ve liked to continue the dream from there, to see his reaction to my revelation, but that was it. I awoke after telling him what I planned to do in order to make him realize I was telling the truth. At that point, he still wasn’t buying it, which, considering the fact that I hadn’t provided him with any actual evidence, he shouldn’t have. I wouldn’t have. But I’m thinking the celebrity death thing, assuming it covered several people over the course of days and those deaths weren’t limited to people who were already on their death beds, would’ve convinced me. And I’m generally harder to convince than him.

2013 ( February 04 )

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