DREAMS & DEATH
This blog is gonna to get some kinds of serious,'cause I'm writing to tell you about my death dream. And while I know hearing the details of someone else's dream is as interesting as newspapers are to a small child, please bear with me. Or don't and never, ever be my friend again. K?
Right, so. I've had two vivid dreams about death in my life. The first one involved getting shot at point-blank range and my dream-self falling to the ground fully conscious but without any sense of feeling. I was essentially trapped in my lifeless body much like those movies about people who take just too little anesthesia to fall asleep on the operating table, but just too much to tell anyone about it.
It freaked me out so much I've since told everyone close to me that I most definitely want to be incinerated on death to avoid the even (incredibly) remote (and highly implausible) chance that this limbo ever become a reality. Can you imagine being conscious for decades in a dark box?
That was about a decade or so ago now. The other day I woke up from my second death dream. Again, I was shot at point-blank range (what does it mean THO!?), but this time it was done execution-style with the shooter behind me pointing his gun to my back towards my heart. The scene had come after a long cops versus robbers-esque dream, and I was a captured good guy facing a noble death etc. That didn't interest me ('Nor me', I hear you say). What did was the few seconds before and after the shot went off.
Since I always experience my dreams in third-person, I saw myself as I knelt, and 'the camera' panned in to frame my face and chest. Everything went quiet, expect for my breath which was surprising long and even in anticipation. And then there was nothing. Absolute black. I woke up gasping, and for the first time in my life, came to understand what death truly was.
Don't get me wrong - I'm not religious, and for a long time have 'known' as much as anyone can that there would come a time where there would be no more 'me' and that time on earth was precious. It's actually been a thought exercise of mine for a while to concentrate on these facts to bring myself out of any current trauma or discomfort, and to appreciate everything a little bit more - experience everything with some more patience.
But I think what this thought exercise did was to add a romantic sense of grandeur to death, so that even when my thoughts were centered around a time of non-being, there was instilled an idea of glory and magnanimity, so that my death was rendered important. Through this perception, death added to the concept of a linear and omnipresent human condition, and this itself came to represent an entity or existence that was not ended by death but fed by it.
This dream showed different. There I was, breathing, and then there was nothing. No consciousness. No ability. No way to hate, love, observe or preserve. I understood then that when I die, my brief season of being would be over, with an almost comical purposelessness. There would be no consciousness. There would be no 'me'.
Post-dream, I became deeply sad and frightened, and started to mourn the loss of life, which I saw as actually the loss of consciousness, or potential. For the first time ever I felt terrified of not existing. Even as I write my chest pains for the foolishness of it all. What dark joke planted the seeds of pride and power in an animal that lived in the brief flash between two passages of otherwise-infinite darkness?
I've long-since consoled myself over death through a shallow understanding of it being a state without thought - much like the time before we were born. But now I realise the true consequences of such a stop in neural fireworks. True nothing. It still puts things into perspective like my original thought exercise, but in a different, more panicked way. It's rather painful, really.
The silver lining
I had to write that heading because this post would be too depressing without it. But really, I'm fresh out of ideas. Let me know if you have any - definitive proof of the existince of an afterlife would be MOST welcome.
Sorry about potentially killing your Thursday afternoon buzz - but I warned you shit would get real. Forgive me my goth life, and come back soon for happier thoughts. Love you guys long time.