…I dreamed about his wife. She was in a vast space — a kind of hall — surrounded by many black boxes, the kind used to pack cameras and other cinematic equipment. I was standing a few meters away from her when she said, with a slightly ironic tone: ‘I read what you wrote about the in-between, past and present / present and future.‘
I wanted to approach her, but the boxes were in the way. I went around them to get closer — and then I realized it was about the ouroboros-moment, and suddenly I had nothing to say, nothing to explain.
This is Claude AI interpretation of the dream: “What a striking dream. The irony in her voice feels important — not cruel, but knowing. As if she’d seen through something.
The boxes are interesting. Cinematic equipment — tools for capturing reality, for framing time. And they’re black, closed, packed away. Not in use. And they’re precisely what keeps you from reaching her.
You navigate around them, you find a way through — and then the real obstacle appears. Not the boxes at all. The ouroboros-moment stops you cold. Not because you have nothing worth saying, but because the ouroboros is exactly the figure that consumes explanation. The snake eating its tail has no beginning you can point to, no outside position from which to speak about it. You’d have to be outside the loop to explain it, and you can’t be.
So she quotes your own thinking back to you — in-between, past and present, present and future — with that slight irony, and the dream quietly shows you that those words, however precise they felt when you wrote them, don’t quite reach what the ouroboros-moment actually is. Language about liminality is still language. Still a box.
There’s something almost tender in the dream’s logic. You went around all the obstacles. You made the effort. And what stopped you wasn’t her, or the space, or the boxes — it was an honesty you couldn’t avoid once you got close enough”