THE NIGHT I DREAMT ABOUT MY OWN DEATH

All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

Whenever people reckon they don’t dream I kind of sneer at them discreetly. Perhaps this is too radical, but truth is that I cannot comprehend how people don’t keep memories  of their oneiric activity at all.

Considering I’m a person who doesn’t like sleeping much because unconsciousness is the closest thing to death and keeps me from enjoying time for my own, dreams are an extension of this conscious life of mine, but with the added value of lack of control, not adjusting to any pattern. Thus dreams are sort of an experiments, unpredictable, which might please, frighten or move you.

I’m not one of these fanatics of dreams who keep track of every dream to analyze and dissect them trying to find some kind of meaning, I don’t have pen and paper right by the bed, but it’s true I like dreaming. I find it interesting. I’ve dreamt of sex, of encounters with my idols or celebrities, I’ve been having conversations with my granny, I’ve met people, I’ve felt from a bridge, I’ve woken up crying or laughing, I have recurrent feverish dreams…

But last night I got terribly frightened, I had never experienced something so overwhelming in my dreamy existence, and believe, I have nightmares from time to time.

As a diehard fan of Cronenberg’s films, one of the most fascinating topics he usually deals with is this fiction vs. reality dichotomy and struggle, and the thin line which separates sanity from insanity and control from chaos. Let’s say I trespassed than line and the worst thing of all, was the fact of being conscious I didn’t really know in which side I was for several seconds.

I went to bed at 2am, very late considering I wake up at 7,25 even though my several alarm clocks are ringing from 7. 2 is like my deadline, but I often forget about it. When you have 5 hours rest, you don’t fall asleep gradually, it’s more like fainting. You’re never certain of when you fell asleep.

inception

Once in the kingdom of Freddy Krueger, it was dark, and I was listening to music. I’m positive it was QOTSA’s new album (yep, such is the level of addiction to …Like a Clockwork),  but I was riding my little motorbike, heading The Hellhouse. I was smiling, relaxed and singing out loud when all of a sudden that red car, a shitty old Honda, was right in front of me motionless and without lights on. I quickly foresaw my fate, even though I couldn’t avoid it because it was too late to react, so I was approaching the car fast but in slow motion, colliding.

My body, light and vulnerable as a feather, started flying and gaining altitude, the bike had crashed against the car, and once I had reached a peak of height, I started falling, and at the level of the floor, my body was swept along, my face being scratched with stones, my helmet totally lost somewhere, till everything stopped.

It was as if I had lost consciousness till I realized what had happened. And questions started to arise, but I didn’t dare moving.

Am I dead or alive? Is this a dream or it is for real? Have I gone into coma? Can I move?  Is my neck broken?

Can a feel my limbs? Can I talk?

For seconds which seemed to be an eternity I was too confused, unable to pull myself together, up to a point I panicked. I really thought I was dead.

There wasn’t any remarkable thing which made me awake but there I was, completely twisted in my bed, sweating and hyperventilating, but motionless and in the same position my body was, once it had stopped from drifting. It had been a dream.

When I turned the light on I saw it was 2.29am. All this had happened in about 20 minutes. I wasn’t ready to go back to sleep thinking that would be the opening for a crazy night, but luckily it wasn’t. Truth is that I’ve woken up exhausted, and haven’t felt too well for many hours.

The feeling of being so close to death, even though it was a dream has been terrible. I’m afraid to die, I have to admit it. Since I was a kid my consciousness, my soul, or call it whatever you want, has been the most precious treasure I have and I’m unable to accept in a (near) future I’ll be gone. Perhaps this was a reminder from my unconsciousness.

One response to “THE NIGHT I DREAMT ABOUT MY OWN DEATH

  1. That must have been very scary for you indeed. I must say though just from your recounting of this dream that you seem like a very philosophical soul.

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