Inception – NOT a review

the other day I woke up at 3 a.m. -crying- from what seemed like a 1.5
hour dream in a 2 hour sleep. Hmmm, real time dreams?
Why was I crying, you ask? Good question. We’ll get to that point.
Anyhow, the dream started nicely enough. Me and my extended family were gathering at my grandfather’s old house. It’s actually no longer his now (he sold it), but I spent a big portion of my childhood in it and we did a lot of these gatherings in it.
Anyway, I was somehow drawing a picture of my uncle and was bickering a lot with him about how it was going to be done. Due to irreconciled differences, we parted ways and then it started to rain really bad. And I mean REALLY bad. People were getting stuck by lightning, water were dripping from every possible crevice in the house and it began to flood. And then people from the streets sought refugee in that house.
And right then was the point I texted this guy -THE guy. Random things like, hey how are you, it’s raining cats&dogs here and it’s flooding and I’m scared to death. No reply.
Then I ran into my parents. Fighting -as usual- over how the hell did my father’s precious CD collection got wet. My mother matter-of-factly pointed that there IS a storm outside, and the house IS leaking, to which my father replied with a tantrum the size of this country. As if my mother was supposed to control weather.
So I went to the movies instead -somehow a cineplex just materialized inside my grandpa’s house. Suddenly I bump into my brother and his girlfriend inside. We sat a little away from each other and waited for the movie to start, with a lot of other wildly wet people looking for a little dose of comfort and shelter from the storm.
But the theater manager wouldn’t take these non paying costumers. He called security and they threw us out, to find that the theater lobby was now filled with dead bodies from the flood -this is the part where it turns grim. So my brother and I tried to make sense of the
situation. We bumped into my father who -as usual- is sporting a very inappropriate attitude to all this. He said, “hey, it’s flooding!” as if it was a revelation of some kind. My brother asked him if he wanted to help the Red Cross tend the victims or something. My father’s reply? “Do we have to?” Standing applause for my dad the comedian. Never fails to disappoint.
Nearing the final scene, a friend (which just suddenly appeared), my brother and I were walking hand in hand trying to save people. Upon arriving in the living room, there was a wedding there. We just forgot all about the flood and I got fussed up about what I was going to wear -since I was wet and all, you know?
My mother revealed an extensive walk-in closet behind the walls, and -as usual- I couldn’t find a single thing to wear. There was a lot of bickering with mom, until finally the wedding was over. And there I was, soaking wet and crying. Can you see what’s wrong in that
dream?
There was a disaster, I was living in the house that became shelter for the victims, people were dying, and I CRIED BECAUSE I HAD NOTHING TO WEAR TO A LOUSY WEDDING! Oh please somebody slap me real hard. Seriously!?!
I’m thinking a lot can be analyzed from this stupid dream. I just don’t have time to do it now, I’m busy finding a dress. —sense the tone, people.

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