Dream of other selves

I dreamed of a young seeker approaching a sprawling mansion complex. To call it a mansion is to call the Marianas trench a hole in the ground

I had prior dreamed of the approach to the mansion of lives lived that brought the seeker to this place. Of people they had been and had since forgotten as one life bleeds into the next.

The seeker must answer a math problem. The math problem is one of rounding but in a system of math that is not often used and the numbers are different from base 10.

The seeker, a woman, fails twice. So flustered by the foreign experience. I fear I influenced her and instead of trying a third time we held the keypress that would generate the infinity symbol.

I sensed that the seeker had been here before and she was able to get in normally prior. When the symbol was entered a number of options was shown. Normal entrance included. But information and other experiences as well. The various rejection possibilities, the death possibilities, in addition bits of legendary knowledge, actual curated data on things that have never been but might be again.

The seeker chose a normal entrance.

But I was not the seeker. I was an observer behind her eyes. No I was the man she was going to see. A version of me. A version who had plundered his dreams and acquired wealth and knowledge. Both things I enjoy. And still he was profoundly unhappy. This permeated the whole complex. Lush gardens and miniature rainforests, paintings stolen from museums and replaced by facsimiles, beauty abounded. And still the man, a version of me, was empty.

I am describing a bare portion of everything. It was a whole world and it now sits behind my eyes.

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