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A Taped Wound

Dreamed 1997/10/7 by Chris Wayan

I'm in a bare room, feeling my left side and upper arm. Worries me, they're very sore--and the pain feels deep inside, like an infected wound. Hold my arm tight to my side. Between them, just below the armpit, I'm squeezing a big crumpled wad of plastic adhesive tape as a sort of crude bandage.

At last, I decide I have to look. I force myself to lift the arm and pull off the tape. Examine the skin as best I can.


And the pain is gone, too. Weird.

Hard to be sure, it's an awkward patch to reach, so I leave my body--I don't even notice at first because my spirit body looks just as solid to me, but I stand up and look down at a second sleeping me in the room, curled up naked. I examine this physical body from above and behind, where I otherwise couldn't.

Looks fine--slick with sweat as if feverish, but no sign of the infected wound I was sure I was hiding!


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