Faceless Monster Dream

I’m in a very sanitized-looking, hotel-like dormitory. A man comes and delivers my food. I’m not supposed to look at him. It’s also my understanding that I am being held captive by the state government for some reason and any contact with the outside world is restricted. I don’t know what they are going to do with me.

Next time a man comes down and I open the double gates for him, he does not call my name. Instead, he says, “Come.” He says that my file has been mixed up with the file of a faceless monster and they need to talk to me in person to sort things out.

“I’m not a faceless monster,” I say to the detective I’m speaking to.

“I have a name, it has the character 鐵 [iron] in it,” I add, “I am not a nameless, faceless monster.”

But he flips open a magazine and shows me an advertisement of a woman offering sex for money. She is wearing a bikini, lying sideways in a provocative pose.

“You financed your facial reconstructive surgery with an ad just like this,” he said. “You’ve had surgery to fix your face many times.”

What he says sounds familiar but I really don’t remember doing these things, the sex ad or the reconstructive surgery.

“Does it still count if I don’t remember?” I ask.

“This is the 27th time we’ve caught you,” he said. “I can’t let you go anymore.”