I have very vivid dreams. Some of them have a location that is the same, some have a story that is the same, some even continue over several nights like reading an novel.
Either way, I have decided to write them down. Here is one I wrote down in 2010.
Content Warning: Mass Suicide, Death, Mourning, Celebration of Death.
I was at a mall that was near my house with a friend. Her and myself decided that the only proper thing to do would be to plan a mass suicide all across the mall. We made posters and talked to everyone that we knew and eventually all of the employees in the mall joined our “game”. We were all tired. The world was a firepit of decay anyways. It played out like a party. There was great laughter and joy in watching every one of us die. There was even a random nightclub that you could go to, where the bank used to be. This was for the option of raving and partying to death.
We all had to decide on our own way to kill ourselves, the more creative you were the better. We locked all the doors and barred all the windows and let the night play out like a game. There was a lot of blood that started pooling everywhere on the floor. A good number of people got excited by this, so they turned the music up high and danced like mad, splashing red all over us. It was a warm feeling of excitement and joy.
Eventually, it was my turn to die. For some reason I decided that a cliché way to die, which was to throw myself off of the tallest building after downing an entire bottle of liquor from the slowly disappearing supply at the local liquor store, was the best way to go. I chose falling however, not because I knew it would kill me, but because of the high it would give me. That feeling of falling before hitting the ground. To feel the world rush past you, to feel it pulling at you as you fell. It was a sense of freedom, borderline feeling of control and power. I wanted the last thing I felt to be a thrill.
The next morning we were all dead, but the dream went on. We were all some type of spirits that wandered around the blood splattered building, stepping over numerous bodies. We could see ourselves dead. There was a sense of calm, a sense that everything was peaceful. One of the only times I ever felt at peace in a dream. That everything was alright and exactly the way should be. You could see the look of contentment on the other spirits faces. Words were not needed anymore, voices were not required. We simply looked at each other with gentle smiles and a sense of blissful understanding. Without words we formed a connection between us.
The silence was comforting.
We then watched as people discovered our bodies and questioned their despair and shock. We had trouble understanding why they did not feel the peace or comfort that we did. What we did was right and we had a hell of a time doing it. We thought they should be happy. Eventually, it became silly and we made a game out of it, celebrating every time they freaked out over finding another body, drawing more people to the scene. We would somehow high-five and hug and our beings were filled with silent sunshine laughter. We wanted them to understand the joy, not the sadness, was what we wanted to express.
When the day was over and done and the people had finally left our spirits in peace, we gathered in a group. A large circle of understanding, and finding our voices, each shared our experience dying and how if felt afterwards. We became a ball of light, of energy, all combined within each other.
Then I woke.
(2010)
Photo Taken by a friend. Fire performance by Luna Fyrewillow.