South of the South

I had a dream last night, which is usually a rare yearly event. This year, it came early. I was myself in 2010, but in my basement in New York. I could see myself and Anthony playing. I think it was the Farmingdale house, because I looked really young and the basement wasn’t as familiar to me as the Ronkonkoma house we later moved to. It was very clear at this point that I had traveled into the past, and was observing events that had already occurred. I saw toys I had forgotten about, but I definitely had them at that point in the time. I was trying to take pictures of myself, but my younger self wouldn’t stand still enough and the pictures kept coming out blurry. There was another scene after that but it isn’t as clear; I think we were playing in snow. The memories that I was experiencing of myself playing as a child were so emotionally overwhelming to relive, to really feel like I was reliving - that I said outloud to present-day self while observing my younger self, “When I wake up, no one will believe I really went back in time. They’ll just think I had a dream.”

I then woke up, about 10 minutes before my alarm was set to bring me into a new workweek, to the sound of Miranda in agonizing pain. Each waking second, another toy I had long since forgotten had slipped back into my subconscious.