The dream~

Let me tell you about a dream of mine. Last summer, I was at a pretty low point in my life. Some people call this point "rock bottom," and it probably was, but I thought it was more like "the end of the fucking world." This was after me and my gf of two years, who I thought I was going to be with forever, and who I would've been more than extremely happy to be with forever, broke up. My whole world was turned upside down with this. I mean, I had it so ingrained into my essence that I was going to be with her that I couldn't imagine life without her, and then when the time came and she broke up with me, I didn't know what the fuck to do and life was so intimidating that I almost shit my pants. After not drinking any water for three days and not eating any food for about ten days, I had this amazing dream.

I was so depressed at the time and so empty in my soul that I thought about committing suicide all the time. (LOL) I didn't know what the fuck to do with myself and I didn't want to live life without her. (LOLOL) Call me a hopeless romantic I guess? But whatever. One day I got fed up with everything and decided that life wasn't good enough for me. So I reached in my pocket and pulled out my gun and shot myself in the head. As I fell through the floor, life became ever-so much more vivid. I could feel the gunpowder on my skin, the bullet penetrating and pushing through multiple layers of skin, bone, brain, bone, and skin. I could feel the blood gushing out of my head as I layed on the ground and the lukewarm puddle that substantiatied around my upper body.

It had been maybe about an hour or two before someone came upon my body. I was still alive somehow and I was well aware of my surroundings, more aware than when I didn't have a bullethole through my brain actually. I was extremely sensitive to everything around me, temperature, texture, psychological effects of objects and positioning of said objects, etc. Anyway, when people found my body and the paramedics arrived, even though I wasn't conscious in my body, I was conscious outside of it, I guess. I saw the paramedics take me, put me on a stretcher, take me to the hospital, run tests on me, and then I died. After I died, I was still watching my body and laughed at the Doctor's desensitized notions of life.

After this I ended up in the morgue and it was pretty cold as balls in there. My body was on the operating table or something and I figured that I'd really died. I was disappointed with everything. Disappointed with the whole experience of life as a whole, mostly. I thought to myself, "is this all that life has to offer? Is that it?" I went into a long diatribe about how disappointed I was with it and at how lame it was for me and how it was like going to a movie and thinking it was going to be badass, when it turns out that you saw all the cool parts on the previews.

Then I decided to myself, "fuck this" and gave up. Just let everything go. Let all of the attachments that I had to the world go. Let the whole breakup go. Let everything that ever happened in my life go. Let everything that I ever hoped for and dreamed for and imagined go. And decided to turn off like the light of a candle flushed away by a brisk wind. There was no more sensations, there was no more thoughts, there was no more consciousness, there was just the void and I was it and it was me and everything that ever had been and will be.

Then, somehow, I woke up and I was in another world. (class is over, to be continued.)