Today I dreamed that I found out I had a half-brother who died in 1979. My dad had cheated on my mom and produced this boy, who was a child prodigy and published books. But he stopped writing as a teenager. I found articles about him and wanted to find out what happened to him, and blogged about this, not knowing we were related. (I was just interested in the fact that he had first gotten published at age ten.) Then Dad finally told me he was my half-brother, and added that the boy had become addicted to cocaine, killed a cop, went to prison for awhile, got out when he turned 18, and was then killed by one of his associates. Dad gave me a journal he (my father that is) had kept of his feelings during this time.
Then, it turned out, my half-brother wasn’t really dead, and he was going around committing enormous acts of civil disobedience to release the stranglehold the media had on society. This involved going to media rallies and rock concerts and making all the lights and displays go crashing down. It was awhile before we figured out that it was my half-brother doing this and that he wasn’t dead. I was sent in to negotiate with him and get him to stop all the destruction. I told him if he surrendered now, he would only get two years in prison.
I think I woke up then.