The War of the Worlds
Who wouldn’t want to be Tom Cruise?! Well, in one my dreams last night I almost was. I was in a situation not dissimilar to the remake of The War of the Worlds. I’d been outside when an alien invasion had occurred and I’d run home. It wasn’t a home I’d ever been to; I think I was actually dreaming that I was in America. My brother was there, and I think my mum too. I wasn’t especially frightened; more excited.
I shouted at them to look out of the window. “I’m not kidding! I’m not kidding!” They opened the blinds and sure enough there were upturned cars everywhere and people running around and lasers shooting everything. It was carnage outside, but I wasn’t worried.
What I was most concerned about was what the aliens looked like. I was curious to see them, and I imagined they’d look like they did in the original movie.
I wasn’t particularly impressed with the movie (remake) when I saw it and I don’t even remember whom I saw it with. My excitement in the destruction of the world seems odd, especially with my family being present. At first I thought maybe this was another dream about trying to protect my brother, and it may be so, but why would I be so happy about the end of civlisation? Perhaps I am happy when the world around me is chaotic for everyone else and I just don’t care. That rings true, actually. My brother and mum may represent that I long for some peace in their lives. I did, after all, want them to join me in watching the world outside our house (which was unscathed) fall apart.
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