When you are a ghost, you are inclined to constantly visit the past in your dreams. Railroad tracks and distant trains, Old derelict houses line the outskirts and the land even in a faux form of sunlight seems lackluster as if you played old family movies in bygone half frame cellulose. Your father shows up and you repeatedly surprise him. But beyond a look of surprise there is nothing more is said between you. The invocations of childhood in terms of crossing the tracks while a train locomotive is in sight, even in the distance, are thrown asunder. Odd how the concept of death lurks in one’s dreams as a consequence of this bad judgement. And yes, you can die in your dreams! You are just recycled like a pawn from a computer game into a new scenario as another avatar. The synapses around the gray folded channels get old and rusty I suppose. Who can really tell if they provide a portal to another dimension of independent existence within? All experience suggests that despite the banal persistence of this waking world that it may simply be a persistent lingering presence in a single play scenario. We play the game with vigor until we tire or it and the monotony of the same routine drives us under. I see my father as he was not as he possibly has become. At that point in his life when perhaps the crisis between us was at its apogee. That perhaps is the frustration of dreams in general that they are too often like a ride in an amusement park offering only a very brief thrill in the same way each successive ride. But they can never progress from there. The old disappointments are never satisfied in such a place They just remain mute and silent like elements in a movie set left standing after the shooting has long been completed. You may have happened on it just before daybreak and think you saw something. But it’s just a product of your imagination.
Derelict Movie Set In An Old Out Of Date Game