Dead Dreams
Dead bodies, another dream of them, no rhyme or reason just the odd angular bends and that all too peaceful, coroner placed smile. My days were happiness and sunshine but the night brought a completely different set of emotions; chills and shivers, cold sweats and silent screams. These dreams were the worst, like an ominous warning that one must interpret before time was up. I could deal with the gory ones, at least then it was obvious what happened, but all this death without a feasible explanation was true atrociousness. I think it is the same way in real life, oh the sad silly irony, perhaps I should say in real death. When someone dies and there is an acceptable everyday cause, it is okay, sad but okay. When death is thrust upon us blindly, without any precursor or justification, it grants death its power and fear.
I poured my cup of coffee and jotted the flickering memories of the dream into my journal. There was not much to record, all those flaccid bodies floating about everywhere. Instead, I reiterated the emotions that had accompanied it; confusion, panic, an unexplainable sense of being lost. The dream journal was my psychiatrist’s idea, I never came to her about real life problems, it was the dreams that sent me for help. It is amazing the power our own minds have over us. They manufacture our dreams and do such a powerfully realistic job that even though we cannot remember the dream, the feelings that accompanied it are carried with us for hours and sometimes days later.
I had carried the dreams with me as a burden from as early as I could remember. So many nights I spent outside my parent’s bedroom door, not wanting to disturb them but not wanting to be alone. Tonight there were no parents on the other side of the door, tonight I would have to face the night alone, and tonight I would cower and result to insomnia, fighting until my body sent me back to my minds control. Though it left its mark on me, insomnia had become my friend, sheltering and protecting me as best it could. The dead dreams were my relentless, all powerful, undefeatable enemy. I could try as I might to prolong their onset but in the end, just like the grim reaper; they would have their way with me and overcome my body.
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