waiting for the end of the world.

I have very lucid, very bizarre dreams (don’t we all?). I’ve taken to writing them down when I remember them. Here’s one I had last night…

mushroomI was in the army or something. There were a bunch of us, seemingly wandering through a desert. We were in the U.S., defending our homeland. At least that’s what it felt like. We were all men, so I figured we were army or something. I didn’t really know anyone. But as we were walking, we knew this was it. We knew a bomb had been launched. It was only a matter of when it hit. I was talking to a guy next to me and then pointed at the sky and said, “and there it is.”

The ground beneath our feet began to rumble. We knew it was about to happen, so we all sat down in the desert. One man who acted like a commander (it was John Slattery from Mad Men) told us, “it’ll all be over very quickly, men. But the light will blind you, so you may not want to look at it.”

As the ground kept shaking and the winds picked up, we all joined hands and waited. I remember watching just up until the moment I saw the mushroom begin to form, and I closed my eyes. The next thing I felt was a violent surge of energy wash over me. It felt like it was knocking me down a hill, even though we were on flat land.

Everything went dark.

After a few moments, I noticed I wasn’t dead. I was still alive. I couldn’t see, but I could hear. Wherever I was, it was very hot and muggy. I felt sweaty. Then I heard a voice. “The first thing you should see is amber.”

After that, the darkness began to lift from my eyes. It went from black, to translucent, to a gauzy blur. Someone was removing bandages from my eyes. As they removed the final layer, I could see the sun. It was bright and yellow like the morning sun in your bedroom. I looked up and saw a ceiling fan slowly rotating, moving the heavy air in the room.

I looked around and noticed I wasn’t alone. A young girl was in a twin bed next to mine. “You made it too?” I said to her as I got up and sat on her bed to talk to her. Whomever she was, she was familiar to me, even though I was no longer familiar to myself. In the desert, I was a grown man, a soldier, beaten down my a lost cause of a war. But here, in this room, wherever I was, **whenever** I was, I was a 13-year old boy again.

Was I living a new life? Did I die and return to our world in another time? Or was I still me, somehow knocked into another reality? All my consciousness told me I was still that man in the desert. But all my senses told me I was someone new, someone reborn.

And then I woke up.

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Filed under dream journal, Personal

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