To Speak, Perchance to Dream
Okay, this one's not about speech recognition but, last night I had "The Dream." For years and years prior to that interworking inside my brain self-destructing, leaving my left arm a primarily useless appendage, I've had a recurring dream. In my dream I'm holding my arm which has been separated from my body. It's not gory. Not like a scene from "Kill Bill 2" with streams of spurting blood soaking the room. I'm simply holding my disconnected arm as if I were a Barbie doll whose owner decided to partially dismember her.
I walk around a room filled with those random people that appear in your dreams, a friend you haven't seen for 10 years, the UPS guy, someone from an antacid commercial and present my arm to each, asking them to put it back for me. They smile sweetly and explain it doesn't work that way. I feel they must be somewhat dim. I patiently explain that I have all the parts and I just need them to reattach it for me. They will not be persuaded. They insist it can't be done and walk away.
When I wake up, my arm is always there at my side where it belongs, it just no longer works. As it turns out, my dream self should have been asking the dream people to fix my brain.
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I walk around a room filled with those random people that appear in your dreams, a friend you haven't seen for 10 years, the UPS guy, someone from an antacid commercial and present my arm to each, asking them to put it back for me. They smile sweetly and explain it doesn't work that way. I feel they must be somewhat dim. I patiently explain that I have all the parts and I just need them to reattach it for me. They will not be persuaded. They insist it can't be done and walk away.
When I wake up, my arm is always there at my side where it belongs, it just no longer works. As it turns out, my dream self should have been asking the dream people to fix my brain.
To share your own experience, click on COMMENTS below
