What this freaky dream is about?

Just awoke from this dream no more than ten minutes ago. Had to write it down immediately. What the hell could it represent? If you’re bored and have the time.

Looking out to the right from the front door of my home, I noticed that the neighborhood had changed dramatically. The other houses had disappeared, and in their place stood new structures atop new landscaping. To the left was a quaint little building that looked like it had once been a gas station, and then converted into a Chinese stop and go. It was now empty, clean, and for rent, providing great visibility on a high traffic modern road. I thought it would make a lovely photography studio/art gallery. Three walls were made entirely of glass, so the natural light was beautiful for both portraits and picture displays.

Across the street there stood a new house on a large complex. The immediate neighbors, Ryan and Laura were gone, along with their home. Mike and Jennifer next to them had also disappeared in a house no longer there. In their place was a magnificent new home three times the size of the ones before it combined.

My son Linden took off to go see it. And as I chased after him I noticed the “For Rent” signs on both the Photo Studio and the new home across the street. Linden had perched himself on the front porch of the new home, which looked more like a raised deck, made of rich red wood and iron banister, carrying up to the second floor. He sat down and stared out across the street and the empty Photo Studio.

As I approached, my eyes caught a glimpse of the back yard, and I was lead to investigate it. I found another building behind the home which seemed to be a five car garage converted into a very clean and spartan workshop. I thought it would also make a wonderful photo studio, but with very little natural light, perhaps better suited for private projects, rather than the public exhibitions which the glassy studio across the street provided for.

Though I believed the facility to be vacant, voices made themselves known outside. And the workshop garage looked to be in some state of use, although very clean with perfect concrete floor, white painted wood, with bright yellow walls. Stepping outside I saw the owner of the house. I didn’t know if he lived there or if he was just the owner stopping by to check on his property. I said hello, and as he reached to shake my hand, I recognized him as a movie star that I’d seen play bit parts over the years. The most notable of which I remember as General Zod in the old Superman II movie with Christopher Reeves. He was nicely dressed and in a hurry to join with friends in the basement of the house out front. He told me to follow him. But as soon as he said that, I heard a crash from the side of the house and immediately thought Linden!.

Sure enough, my son was found wrestling with a metal grate on the side of the house. It was made of iron bars lifted to table height above a concrete enclosure. Linden had accidentally tipped it over while attempting to stand upon and get a peek in the window above it. There were thick leafy vines that covered the grate, and they had fallen into the bottom of the concrete enclosure. We wrestled together, attempting to get the vines out of enclosure, fearing they would dry out and become a fire hazard. The grate was extremely difficult to manage, and Linden and I argued at one another during our tag team effort to tame it.

Behind the dethroned vines, and in the back of the concrete enclosure, we found a door. A large iron door with many steam punk embellishments. It was secure by all measures, rusty, heavy, immoveable. And upon touching it, I was transported away.

As soon as I touched the door, I found myself in the basement of the house, standing next to General Zod. We stood with half a dozen other generals at a round table, listening to a presentation made by a special visitor. Now this visitor was very powerful and mysterious, and I recognized him too. It was Dr. R. Chandra from the movie 2010 Space Odyssey. He was darker in spirit that he portrayed in the movie. He wore a blue sweater with black, gray, and white patterns. Someone questioned his credentials and they were answered by the patterns on his sweater. The white patterns especially, more than the others, rose out of his right shoulder. Each one made a telepathic connection with me and the generals in the room. They confirmed the great deeds of Dr. R. Chandra, and we were all immediately satisfied that he was the one that was supposed to be there. No doubt about it.

As the patterns in Chandra’s sweater calmed, he lifted his left arm out to side, revealing the black leather glove he wore on that one hand. It seemed to stretch much further than it should have been capable of. And then further it stretched again until it touched, and grasped the door jam on the side of the room. My eyes were transported to a close up view of his leather covered hand, grasping the jam, I saw a sixth finger grow out, even from the glove. And then another finger, and between the new fingers, little sprigs grew out of the leather, like rose buds sprouting into branched articulations in league with the numerous additional fingers. By this time, Chandras leather gloved hand had enveloped the entire door jam with hundreds of elongated fingers and thornless branches. I was pulled into them. And again, upon my forehead touching Chandra’s hand, I was brought to the same iron door that Linden and I had been wrestling with before. Chandra’s hand had moved my essence through the walls. I could see all the wood grain passing by, the drywall, the concrete surrounded me, but I moved freely within it. I was on the inside of the iron door, still within the basement. I knew my son was on the other side. I was not afraid. Not for him or myself. I awoke.