(If you haven't realized yet, this post is about to get wishy-washy in a slightly macabre way.)
I've actually only dreamed about this once before. I was a teenager at the time, and had the vision of being a police officer in someone's home, and it all went wrong. An AK47 was involved, as it tends to be in too many of these kinds of scenarios. I'm pretty sure this was all a result of playing an absurd amount Counter-Strike at the time, but it left a much deeper impression on me. I remember the air of desperation and the moment when I was shot, and how warm my blood was running down my body, wrapping me up like a blanket. It suddenly made me feel calm. Relaxed, even. Like I finally got to exhale after holding my breath for just a little bit too long. I remember the notion that "Ah, it's all finally over. There's nothing to worry any more." Very peaceful.
Somehow it gave me a surreal sense of peace regarding death. That, yes, it's going to come to me eventually in one form or another. And when it greets me, I'll know that things are out of my hands, and that I had a good run, and there's nothing to do but wander from one world to the next.
It's like arriving at your flight's gate in an airport stupid-early before boarding. You've checked in, and passed security. There's nothing to do or worry about. You're just in the moment with absolutely nowhere else to be or go for a time. It's one of my favourite parts of travelling (delays, of course, are an exception to the rule).
And then this morning happened. This one was a bit different -- I was in line to be next in a genocide-style execution. I knew I didn't do anything wrong, but that there was also no escape. So while I was kneeling, waiting as the man with the rifle 'worked' his way towards me, I sought that inner-peace from before. I wanted to at least find composure in a situation where I was powerless. And then I was shot. My blood warm blood was running down my body, wrapping me up like a blanket. It suddenly made me feel calm. Relaxed, even. I started to sigh, as if exhaling after holding my breath for just a little bit too long.
But before I could finish that breath, I was overwhelmed with uncertainty and desperation, as if I was drowning and I wanted to hold onto that last futile gulp of stale air for a moment longer. I knew what was happening. I knew I was already lost. Yet the fear bade me to betray my silly composure and fight, fight. I absolutely lost that peace.
The scary thing was just how incredibly physical this experience was. I could really feel my body shutting down. I think that I might've been in between sleep cycles at that moment in the dream; I was in a semi-conscious, borderline hallucinatory state, and in the moment that fictitious shot rang out, my body started to transition into the deeper REM cycle where it becomes paralyzed.
I woke up, of course, right in that instance. And even though it was 8am on a Sunday and I had gone to bed a mere 6 hours prior, you're damn right that I got up right then and there. Freaked out is an understatement -- I was really shaken by the whole thing.
Now that I think about it, I have a couple interpretations on why this encounter with the grim reaper was so different than when he last visited my dreams all those years ago. It could be the documentary I watched last night on The Shining, particularly in regards to the references to genocide and the holocaust. It could be that I'm not as religious as I once was, and that there is inherently more doubt about what lies beyond the threshold. It could be the fact that I was up stupid-late playing Borderlands (I guess some things don't change). Or, it could be that I'm slowly starting to become more aware of my age and health.
It could also be a result of all those things.
Sucks, though. I feel like that first dream I had as a teen was a strange and beautiful gift, and I've just been robbed of it.
-Cril
That's our blood down there
Seems poured from the hands of angels
And trickle into the ground
Leaves the warehouse bare and empty
And my heart's numbered beat
Will echo in this empty room
And the fear wells in me
'Til nothing seems big enough go
Lord I'm going away,
Don't you know I'd love to stay
Dave Matthews - Warehouse
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