I'm up at 5a.m, typing here - so that I don't forget the dream I just had. It was the strangest dream I've ever had and the oddest feeling I've ever felt - in dream or out.
In the dream, I was in a run down country with a sinister tyrant as dictator. He was different than other dictators though, as he did a lot of dirty work himself.
I seem to remember I was meant to get a flight somewhere, to a party. But my alcohol was on the fourthieth floor of my hotel. The forthieth floor was the roof; and I'd put my bag on the edge of the roof. And for some reason or another, I didn't for the life of me want to go up there. So I missed my flight and had to take my alternative; the train.
The train was run down; I sat in a transport vessel; it didn't have chairs or seats, just two red steel walls on either side and it was open at the front and at the back. I could see the country from where I was. A lot of commotion was made in the carraige in front of me, as the tyrant came in demanding everybody remove their shoes and give them to him. Meanwhile there was also somebody there, being celebrated for some reason or another.
When he came to me and ordered me to take off my shoes, he inspected my shoes carefully. And then told me that my shoes were disgusting, that I was selfish and ungrateful - that being of middle class European descent, I should have been wearing something better. He decided he wouldn't take the shoes and gave them back to me.
But when the train stopped, we all had to queue up. There was hundreds of us. But as we approached this hill beside the train tracks, guards broke us up. If we still had shoes we were sent in a different direction. I was pushed that way; to see the tyrant standing at the front, in front of wooden stairs that carried to the top of the steep hill. The first man I saw with him was lifted up, and as the tyrant looked him in the eyes, he snapped the man's neck.
The second man was the man who had been celebrated on the train. He let the man pass.
And then it was my turn. As I looked up at the tyrant, he mumbled something along the lines of "though you walk through the valley of the shadow of death" except, really oddly. Kind of, a new kind of formal presence was added to what he said. A sombre, formal presence. He lifted me by my head as he spoke and I looked into his eyes just as the man in front had done. He almost looked like Charles Manson - if he had lost weight to point of being really skinny. His beard was as grey and quite long, very shaggy. And his eyes were lost deep within his face.
But this feeling, was, as he lifted me and spoke his words; telling myself, "I'm gonna find out what death is now." And it was, relieving. It was almost nice. And I felt fine with it. It was as if a white light had shone down on me. I was almost looking forward to him snapping my neck.
And then, not quite like waking up, I just came back. I turned on my light swiftly and said "I don't wanna die though". As if what had happened had some sort of reality to it. I didn't feel like I'd just woken up and I wasn't scared of what had obviously been a nightmare. I was relieved and happy in every way. As if this dream was telling me something; that there is purpose here on earth; or that there is purpose to death.
It's odd. And yet, I woke up with a sore neck.
I know it's hard to believe I actually think there was something to this dream; or that I could return to reality after a dream of somebody snapping my neck and not be scared. If you want to analyse this dream, no doubt there's a lot of inspection to be made; or tell me if you've ever had a similar experience. I'm simply posting on here to get some feedback on this dream; was it a dream or a mystical experience? And ultimately, I'm posting on here so that I don't forget my dream. Because I'm going back to sleep.
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