I could travel back in time through books, someone's autobiography in particular or even fiction. I was someone who felt incredibly lonely at heart in my everyday life, and who was obsessed with Marlon Brando. Somehow I managed to experience a real scene in his "memoir"... He was already older, in his late 40s or early 50s. We were intertwined as we were ascending a hill. He was being gentle to me, whispering something... as if we were together. He gave me a soft but juicy kiss, and I felt like I was finally happy. I was dressed in old fashioned clothing, so I didn't appear to be from the future. However, even though I had been experiencing this scene and similar ones already in my study of Marlon, this time I had been careless, and carrying with me a book about him published in 2016. It was the first book I've ever read that was about him. Somehow we were at his home now, which seemed to be set in the 1940s. Blissfully, feeling like this was finally the right moment, I told him how one could psycho-analyze someone and even travel back in time to understand them. I took one of the books I had carried with me, called On The Water Front. One could travel back in time to the movie scenes through the book as if they had truly happened. I read out a line from the book and shortly ended up in a scene from it [supposedly; at this point I haven't truly seen the movie irl]. Marlon was a young soldier, looking dapper in his uniform and incredibly handsome. He and his fellow soldiers/friends (around 3-4) had to quickly go somewhere. They were running across a bridge in the city (somewhere in Europe, either England or Germany). Everything was in black and white. I was both with them, and not truly, I wasn't affecting the story line or action. The others both acknowledged my presence with glances, but at the same time it was as if I wasn't there.
Back. "Just look at this book." He took it (the other one) into his own hands. His gaze had turned from soft to focused. He turned the book, on the back it was in German and featuring its publishing date. "See, this book tells you I can actually speak German. Furthermore, I'm from Germany."
"2016?" He said, and slowly it dawned on him what was going on. He became stiff, wide-eyed, and then both confused and somewhat angry. He put the book down on a wooden nightstand close to us, he called for someone. I took the book back into my hands and quickly browsed through it, snickering about the first pages which were full of pictures of him almost completely naked, just wearing underwear and maybe a captain's hat. I was glad he hadn't seen that.
He sat down in a chair and I sat down near him. Now we've had a friend or relative of his in the room too, who also was in the know. Somehow I knew I was his dual (ILI), and that he likely would be receptive to what I'd say, even if he didn't particularly like it. "Will I die in 1913?" He asked. This date didn't make much sense; or perhaps he meant 2013? Either way, I laughed and said "No, you won't. You'll actually get rather old." We both knew his lifestyle was rather bad, which made him think he'd die young. "So I'll die in my 30s?" Surprised at this number, I smiled and shook my head. His female friend or relative made a face as if it would be a bad idea if I told him the exact number. She may even have said "Don't tell him." But Marlon insisted, "No, I want to know." I remained relaxed and playfully said: "I can tell you you won't die in your 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s, 70s." He took it well. Then the question arose - why did I travel back in time or "Psychoanalyse" him in the first place. I admitted my fascination with him. It became obvious I was in love with him. Somehow Marlon and the other person didn't take this well. My honesty had somehow broken the spell; he didn't feel anything romantic for me anymore. And the time had been broken too, somehow. Now, there was supposed to be a dance coming up. More family and a young girl in her teens entered the room. She was naive and a beautiful brunette (black hair with blue eyes). Marlon's eyes kept returning back to her form. I figured he was attracted to her; definitely more than he was to me. I was a middle-aged, mousey looking Jewish woman with grey streaks in my hair. I had dressed in a somewhat more colorful dress and asked everyone "How do I look? Can I go to the dance like that?" I was obviously delusional at this point, everyone was annoyed at how I couldn't let go and kept trying to be of that time and age. Eventually Marlon lost his cool, he took a big gun and opposed to shooting at a wall as his memoir said, he knowingly decided against that and shot at the ceiling until it almost entirely came down. I wondered whether this reality would break down and we'd see the pages of the book above us. But no, it was just revealed that this room didn't feature the kind of ceiling Marlon had been promised. This deceit depressed him.
Now, I was still enamored by Marlon and didn't want to let go. I was determined to travel back again, but in such a way I'd end up young and appealing to him. I expected him to forget about me telling the truth once I travelled again (which was the case almost every time). The next time I was a bubbly, naive young blonde on TV in a 70s music video. Even though he saw me, nothing came out of it. So I travelled again. I was in a car with him and his fellow soldier friends, but this time everything was in colour; and the guys all had luminous, breathtaking blue eyes. It was spellbounding to gaze into them; Marlon would sometimes look at me, and I'd be mesmerized.
Another time travel. This time he was somewhere in the future; technically a time he wouldn't be alive in. I appeared/materialized in a glass house in the woods. Very stylish, a cooler version of my real home. It was the winter time, the trees and ground were covered in white snow. The pewter wood created a beautiful contrast to the white. It was a spectacular view. Marlon was equally elegant, stylish, in his early 40s and dressed all in black. "Isn't this amazing?" I asked him when he touched the glass wall that was presenting the view. "You live in the middle of the woods in this beautiful home that my father designed." Marlon turned towards me, looking solemn. He could see the beauty, but it didn't touch him. He was intrigued by this future, but not in awe of it. My appearance and this futuristic home put him in the know I was from the future, and he was somewhere in it, too. He remembered me. There was a hint of a sexual tension in the air. I looked more like myself, a touch more exotic perhaps. Suddenly a bunch of Indian or Native American looking girls started jumping and running around us; Marlon became anxious. I calmed him down by saying "Those girls aren't real, you are imagining this." The girls disappeared. I was still trying to get closer to him, to catch another kiss, or even more. But the time (or his mood) was never right. I may have told him I'd return and we'd have a date or meet up of some kind, for the last time; but this time we'd consummate our love - supposedly. Then, I'd be satisfied and never bother him again. He didn't oppose it, seemed to comply.
So I travelled again. It was the backstage of some TV production, I was the bubbly blonde again. Everything was very light and white. Marlon was there (seemed to be the director), he took me to the side, excitedly - he was in the know, remembered the "date". He told the others he'd be back soon and needed to discuss something with me. He was determined... He pushed me into a bathroom stall and we hastily started making out. When he kissed my neck and décolletage, I shivered. We had sex, and it was great, exactly how I had wished it to be - intense, passionate. I didn't worry about becoming pregnant; on the contrary, I wondered what it would be like to birth his baby in the future - how it would look like; what would the others think when it resembled him a lot?
I didn't get pregnant. Even though we had finally had sex, I still wasn't over him. I wanted to see him again. This time, the set up was somehow much more complicated. The more often I travelled and met him, the more likely he was going to find out I was from the future and he wasn't in his time, which "broke the spell"; in other words, he wouldn't act in accordance to the story then, but unpredictably instead - which could be positive or negative; more likely negative. The very last time travel involved him at a train station, he was younger and in his uniform again. I saw him, and immediately filled up with excitement. I acted like I didn't know him. He got a ticket from some kind of automaton; one I had manipulated, so that he'd take a certain train to which i would also have access, so we could meet and become lovers. Being so enamored with him, I forgot to get a ticket around or before the time he got his - otherwise it would disappear. So his ticket (a big ring, looking like an onion ring) kept disappearing mysteriously because I didn't get my ticket in time, so he had to keep going back to the automaton to get a new one, which made him grow suspicious. Eventually it didn't disappear anymore, the train arrived. I was running to the automaton, trying to get a ticket. "Oh, so you have to take this train too?" He shouted at me, surprised; considering I wasn't a soldier myself. I nodded and shouted yes back. He didn't focus on me any further, and went on the train. Meanwhile, in order to get a ticket, i had to put a ring in the mouth of a very aged Marlon with horrible teeth on the display. But there was a glitch; the mouth wouldn't close. As if this thing had a mind of its own and didn't want me to get with Marlon. I despaired; and the train drove off. I had missed it - and Marlon - yet again. At that moment, the mouth shut, and I got the ring ticket. Frustrated and disheartened, I threw it to the rails. With that I had decided to never travel back to Marlon ever again and finally let it be.