| 1:44p |
Death & Re-Birth
I had a disturbing dream last night. I do hate the ones where I have to experience dying. Dying in a dream is one thing, really truly experiencing every bit of it is quite another. The last time I had one like that I was in a car that went over a bridge, and it exploded. I usually die by explosion in my dreams – I must’ve perished this way in a previous life (or I’ll go that way in this one or one-yet-to-come). I’ve been shot in dreams before, and felt it – pain and everything. It’s not fun – as you well know. But I’ve never died from being shot before so this was new.
I was me, but I wasn’t me; and not in the way that you can sometimes be two people in a dream (seeing it in first & third person), but I was me in a different life. That’s the best way to describe it. I was petite and had long blonde hair, which was put up in two braided pigtails. I couldn’t have been older than my early-mid twenties. I was in this huge, what-seemed-to-be mall and was running away from two men. They were trying to kill me. I knew it was not a personal thing – they had been hired to do so. I got into an elevator and started going up – feeling that I might actually get away from them. Then this girl came in with me and told me she was going to help me. But she made the elevator start going back down to the ground floor – where they were! I begged her to stop and I was terrified. I started crying; I didn’t want to die. She told me that she was sorry, but she had to do this – that she was here to help me go through this so that I could learn something very important. It sounds as if she was on their side or evil, but it wasn’t like that at all. It was more like she was a type of spirit guide – I felt no malice from her and knew she was only doing what was best for me. I was running all around the elevator, trying to find a place to hide, crying and begging her to stop. The doors opened and I ran out. This was the front of this mall-place and it seemed to be in a huge city. Next to the elevator was a bookstore and a huge, round display of books sat outside on the sidewalk in front of it. I saw the men on the other side of it. I ran around the display and a book about Osiris caught my eye. As I ran around the other side, they were flanking me and I knew I couldn’t get away. Then a book on Isis caught my eye, and I grabbed it – feeling some sort of solace in seeing it there and holding it. I knew I was about to die, and I didn’t want to. The men came towards me and I sank to my knees, taking the book and holding it against my chest. I hung my head and just cried. One of the men stepped up, and he seemed almost apologetic that he had to kill me. He said to me, “That’s a good book, honey.” and I felt him put the barrel against the back of my head, just above and behind my right ear. It all happened very quickly – I closed my eyes and my mind raced in those few seconds and then I felt and heard the loud bang. It hurt, but like I had hit my head on something sharp and I could tell that I went out of my body almost immediately with the impact. It was all dark, and I knew that I was dead and in spirit, as I was still completely conscious in my mind. It was exactly like that when I died going off of the bridge in that other dream. The jolt (from such a violent exit) was stronger then, but the knowledge of being out of the body and knowing that I was dead.
The next thing I know – and I can remember none of this, really – was that I was going through a series of lifetimes. As if I were experiencing all of my lives – but only the very ends of them. I was going life to life and dying! Maybe it’s best I don’t remember them. As I came into each life, I was oblivious to all that had gone on before – as if I were really living just that life. I finally became aware of the cycle as I was an old man with white hair and a white moustache. I was a cop or something like it. I’m not sure what made me aware of it, but I suddenly realized what had been happening and I knew I would die again (in that life) soon. I didn’t, though. I saw a woman commit suicide – bullet to the head. Don’t know if that was coming full circle or what, but then the dream changed to something else. |