Note: I do not have an older brother in real life
I believe that many of the walls were either glass or mirrors, like an exaggeration of a gaudy/tacky Italian mobster's house. The decor was also distinctly mod---I was sitting in a very low, black leather couch in my living when I decided that I was angry at my older brother, and that to retaliate against him I would destroy all of his possessions.
In this dream, my older brother is played by my Uncle Ray, in fact my mother's youngest brother
A flash of me walking by my brother in the living room as he relaxes on the black leather couch, playing his guitar. There is a large crystal chandelier in this room.
When no one is home, I pillage the house for every picture frame that holds a photo of my brother. All of the frames I find throughout the house---on mantles, on dressers, on walls---are thick crystal: noticeably heavy, cut into complex geometric patterns, and very ornate. As I scour my house, each frame I find with a photo of my brother I hurl violently at the floor or walls, watching it shatter into a sparkling burst of shards. I would hold the frame in my hand to both feel its weight and briefly study its jagged texture, then throw it down with vindictive indulgence. I recall pickup up one particular photo that showed my brother and I in a brotherly embrace and smiling, somewhere outdoors. I broke that one as well.
Once every photo of my brother has been destroyed---and there are a considerable number of them, everywhere, so I really spend time in each room---I enter his bedroom, intent on smashing everything he owns. Some objects I notice are a skateboard and an electric keyboard. His walls are all glass, except the far wall, which is a mirror from floor to ceiling. The ceiling is also a mirror.
I hear my brother enter the house downstairs, and immediately my fear of him and his reaction consumes my emotions, displacing my mission. I seek a place to hide, an escape from his wrath upon the discovery of my raid. I know he is going to want to kick my ass, and that he is soon to find me.
Luckily, my friend Becky shows up and drives me (us) somewhere...Manhattan. We explore the city at night in the security of the theater of the front cabin of her Jeep, and the skyline is incredible...the atmosphere is so clear, that I all I want to do is admire how every building and street light is lit up. We cruise around all night, and the air is cool. Sometime later, she is sitting in my lap, and we are sharing a very intense gaze into one another, and I want us to kiss but make no advances. She either leaves, or something beckons her away. I am content with this ending.
Justine, Becky's sister heard an abbreviated (censored) version of this dream and offered me this psychoanalysis, based on her studies:
"You wish there was an older sibling, a boy, to whom you could relinquish the responsibility of maintaining familial structure and peace. You are angry and out of touch with those emotions in everyday life, so you resolve them in dreams. You smash his photo because you are distraught that someone else doesn't exist to carry the burdens that you don't actually deserve and shouldn't be responsible for. You want to be free of the family drama and your role as the oldest responsible man. Your father is not an option in your mind, so you want an older brother, the only other male figure who could potentially take this burden from you. You smash his photo because you are beyond enraged that he doesn't [actually] exist... that you've been dealt this hand, but in real life you're peaceful, so these feelings are resolved in dreams.
Your getaway [through] Becky represents the happiness you find in true friendship..."Not having known my family situation at all, Justine happens to be right on the money. I'm actually surprised with how accurately she had divined a deep-deep-inner desire of mine (an older brother) from one of my dreams. Kudos, Justine. I guess textbook psychology has its merits.
