Little boys, funerals, and cemeteries.

Date: 11/22/2016

There was a little boy, and a woman and man with dark features, hair and fair skin. Actually, they looked like they could be family, but I have never seen them before. The little boy was grown, born again, reborn again and again, in a lab. They did it themselves, each time his life went the exact same way, he did the exact same things, his personality developed the exact same way. I knew all this, watched them three from behind glass, and i loved him so much. He was growing and I took him outside, I think his current age was eight. We went for a walk, we walked around the cemetery. He got taller as we walked actually. Apparently their lab was in a cemetery, and the walk was long and satisfying, big stretches of lawn green and walkways. I knew how it would end eventually. I told him things he'd been missing. I told him about the new events, like a rhinoceros almost killing me. It had had the chance to headbutt me, I showed it to him on a screen, or it replayed in my memory, this happening on a screen, like maybe it had happened virtually. I was trying desperately to do something. Kill somebody. It was a psychotic someone who lived on another plane of reality, who when there couldn't affect this one. A man was helping. He duped me, managed to start a spell going inside this other reality, pretending to join with the psychotic man. The spell gave him a red magic overlay which looked like elf ears. I'm not sure what it did. I kept trying, so did he, but we only ever almost killed the enemy. As I woke up, I closed my eyes again and saw a pleasant scene. I let it wash over me, it was this fixed scene, from a short person's point of view, a child maybe. It was of looking down a long sidewalk in a nice neighborhood, the sun was out and shining golden, the trees were haloed nicely. The air warm and receptive. At first I thought the scene was simply, just warm and comforting energy. But as I had that though it filled with people, but not exactly. It filled with one person, and behind him a thousand reflections of him. Or maybe two people, and their reflections, but they both looked the same, the same boy, wheat colored hair, cut perfectly, in a suit, going to a funeral I got the impression they were all going to a funeral, or this was a funeral. The boy face himself in the center of the scene, like twins or mirror imaging. But the boy to the left, with his back to me wore grey, and the boy to the right, facing me wore black. And the crowd to the left all wore grey, and the crowd to the right all wore black. And as I watched the boy in grey looked back at me and began to take off his suit jacket, the grey one, discarding it. I could feel myself impatient with the scene, anticipating him putting on a black suit jacket. The second boy, in black, also looked at me as the boy in grey took off his jacket so very slowly. I know I said the scene was filled with reflected versions of this boy, but I remember seeing a woman, and other faces, all reflected too, in the scene, on the side of the grey coat boy I could make them out individually, on the side of the black coat boy they remained nondescript and featureless.