I"ve had dreams of that nature before with nothing I'm consciously aware of causing it.
Years ago I dreamed I was living at my grandmother's old apartment and I came home from grocery shopping and went upstairs to the apartment. Still holding my grocery bag, I see a figure dangling from the rafters between the living room and kitchen. I got a closer look and it was me, hanging there with my face from the bottom of the nose down torn or gouged out, leaving a huge void where the mouth would have been.
To this day, I can't imagine what brought that on. But I never forgot it.
To me, these figures, like the shallow me and the ones on the plane, are like zombies, figures with no consciousness or purpose other than being someone else's moment of sick pleasure.
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