My dream last night

I dreamt I was shrunk to about 2 feet tall or so. But also made invisible. I was played by Christian Bale. I went on a quest to write the wrongs. I was being supported physically by woman, sort of like an exoskeleton. I still had my sword, which was normal sized. I found arrows and a quiver in a pile of junk, but an old douchey co-worker who was the only one who could see me for some reason kept calling it a “KAR-RON” and insisted it was the proper pronunciation. It ended up being an extremely cumbersome amount of things to carry.

Before I was Christian Bale, I was me in a more or so high school drama setting. We were performing a satirical musical. Tino played God and Szeman played Jesus Christ, his son. God sent Jesus down during the time of the dinosaurs. The director was some snooty Hollywood bigshot. We were writing the play as we went along. I offered to help. I discussed how silly the Jesus death scene could be, with people mobbing him and “going all Brutus on him.” There were two-dimensional paper people from “South Park” there as well, so I suggested that “Stan could become the new hero.”

Before that, I was involved in some kind of mafia plot. Lots of killing and retribution killing. I was played by Michael Pitt. I had a premonition my flapper girlfriend was going to be killed, so I tried to reach an accord with the rival mob boss– *I* had to die.

So later on the dream, when I was in the play, I had a date planner with today’s date of the Saturday rehearsal saying “2-5 pm, Death” since I had to die publically where the rival mob boss would be able to know it’d happened. The snooty Hollywood director mostly blew me off, but the plan was that I had to actually die, but then I’d be defibrillated back to consciousness.

Backstage, as I was trying to write funny bits for the script, a girl from the show sat near me and we shared my blue and red cape like a blanket and she explained she’d tried to play a board game during her break but was too nervous. She called it something weird, but I imagined the box for a second trying to visualize it and thought it was “Exploding Kittens: the Card Game” or the “Simon’s Cat Card Game” which isn’t out yet. As I was trying to write more of the script, a stagehand came and yelled at me for working on personal things instead of the script before I could explain I was.

That’s about when I got shrank. I began to see it a screenplay for a movie, a kind of Hero’s Journey thing. This allowed me to meta visualize what had happened to me: the big evil villain, who was probably some sort of king, had sent his wizard viser to kill him, but instead he’d shrunk me. When the king asked the wizard if I was dead, the viser answered, “He’s been taken care of,” in reference to my shrinking. Then a voice popped into my head saying that “wasn’t it a cliche that the villain thinks the hero is dead due to a shoddy job by an assassin halfway through the plot? Plus the miscommunication of the instructions.” I resolved to fix the plot so such blaring cliches weren’t present. But I was still a shrunk Christian Bale with a woman partner exoskeleton with too much gear.

I went around a corner to the front of the theater to see two aliens talking in the manner of a “Shadows of the Empire” cutscene. One green female alien said in a floating text box “Oh no… Melchior finally did it…” when the alarm woke me up.

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