I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad, that the dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had

Last night I dreamed I was doing to die. I had found out from a doctor that the chemical in my brain that allows you to breathe while you’re asleep was being inhibited, and for some reason I didn’t think to use a respirator, or to take medication. I simply accepted the knowledge that the next time I fell asleep, I would die and never wake up again. And you think something like that would get you upset- you’d be mad at God, sad at life and scared of death. But I didn’t have time for any of that crap, because when you’ve got about six hours to live, all that really counts is you tell things you’ve been bottling up inside, and that you are kind to your loved ones. I hugged goodbye to a few people, like Craig-kun, who was on the bus with me, and I briefly considered organising a will, but Eugene said it was very straightforward and for good reason- most of my stuff, if unattributed, would go to taxes (which was apparently a very good thing). There was a moment when Beth became hopeful that I could put it off somehow- just stop sleeping or take the medication, and I actually got angry with her for trying to keep me there when I had already decided there was nothing I could do about it. Then I told her there wasn’t enough time in the day to be fighting, so we didn’t. (I don’t know why I didn’t try and preserve my life, but I think I knew at the heart of me there was nothing I could do, or no other right course of action.) Other than that, the day continued as normal- I helped Beth run the inn we just bought together, and I sent a text message to everyone on my phone saying goodbye. And then I went to sleep.

When I next woke up, I was in a traveller’s lounge. A teenaged girl in a school uniform walked through the door and said “Hey”. “Hey”, I said. “I’m dead.” She looked at me before asking thoughtfully, “What are you doing here?” “Oh-” I paused a moment. “-just on my way out I guess.”

At that moment, another man in the hostel yelled out if anyone had seen his books. I said to the girl that they were just on the table, underneath some magazines, somehow intuitively knowing that no one else would be able to hear me. When she went to the table and checked, there were a few cutouts from adult magazines there. He went to take them but she grabbed them, scrunched them up and declared that he shouldn’t be reading that rubbish and no one else should. Then she turned to the barkeep and ordered a beer, handing it to me and saying that she didn’t trust that other guy with it so I should have it. So I drank it slowly, savouring the flavour, the texture, the scent of that golden, frothy drink. And as I was drinking it, I realised that the barkeep hadn’t actually poured a drink- the girl had asked for an imaginary drink for her imaginary friend that no one else could see. And I was overcome with such a small act of generosity, that she would go out of her way to be kind to me and that the bartender was loving enough to do it even though he didn’t understand touched me deeply. I woke up crying.

So I just wanted to say that, having gotten a little perspective overnight (though it’s already wearing off as I forget it), life’s not worth being upset or angry over. There aren’t enough hours in the day to fight with those you love- if you must, yell at them once, and then forget it forever. Let it go. It really, really isn’t worth it. Be kind to everyone, because even the smallest gesture can have the greatest effect when given at the right time.

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4 thoughts on “I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad, that the dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had

  1. Bethwyn says:

    what an amazing post. and your dream does sound completely realistic – it sounds like the way I would act.

    I love you very much too. and you are most definitely the most important person in my life. <3

  2. Lee says:

    Dear John
    Some days, on the rarity such as today, I miss you too. I wonder what my life would be like if we had remained friends and whether it would be good or bad. I wonder why we had difficulties that led to us not remaining friends. I accept that a part of it was my fault. I accept that a part of it was yours.
    These days I am happier than I was. Life is not perfect, or even ideal yet, but the journey there is something to enjoy.
    Peace,
    Lee

  3. […] I don’t know how or why I accessed that kind of gratitude in a challenging and painful part of my life, but it’s something I aspire to again. Today, right now, I make the choice not to focus on the petty things. I will not focus on how tired I am, but instead be truly grateful for a cup of mango green tea and a soft bed to lie in. I will choose to use this amazing gift of technology to talk to a friend in need, and to help improve the Young and Well’s research projects. I will be kind to my mother, and spend time in the sunshine, and I will try harder not to waste this precious gift of life which could be extinguished literally at any moment. It is a precious and fragile thing. I will try to remember what it is like to know you will die the next time you sleep. […]

  4. […] work aren’t the be all and end all of life. I remember how fragile health is, and therefore how precious each moment is. Consequently, one doesn’t have time or energy to waste on things that aren’t […]

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