2/11/2012

Just A Dream

Every now and then I have dreams where I die. It's always exciting and surreal, like a dream ought to be. You know how it goes: it involves a crazed killer with a machette, falling off of a building, spontaneous combustion...whatever. They don't happen so frequently that I feel like I ought to chat with my therapist about it, but they do occur every now and then. Maybe a few times a year.

And inevitably, right before I die in the dream, I think to myself, "Thank God this is just a dream."

"Thank God this is just a dream." Every single time.

The first time was probably just a quirk. But somehow it's caught on, like a reflex somewhere in the recesses of my brain. Every death dream ends with the same thought: "Thank God this is just a dream!"

This moment of realization is apparently when one is supposed to become lucid in the dream. Not me. I never remember what happens afterwards.

It's all really strange. I don't think it's going to end anytime soon. But I wonder what effect it'll have on my waking life.

If the thought really has become the subconscious equivalent of a reflex, maybe it means that it'll extend to reality, too. Maybe it'll continue throughout my life. And maybe, years from now, right before that final moment, some synapse will fire, and before I go, I'll think: "Thank God this is just a dream!"