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Dying is lovely...

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Chi

posted on Aug, 13 2004 @ 02:39 PM
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About two nights ago, I had a wonderful dream. I died.

The Dream:
I was at my cousin's house (not really her house, but in dreams, stuff like that changes) when a murderer came into the house, trying to kill us (this part of the dream is extremely hazy; all i really remember is running upstairs after a close shave. I'm kinda filling in the holes). We narrowly escaped, and ran upstairs to hide. We reached a closet, and hid in a compartment-like thing. I quickly prayed in my head for God to forgive me for all of my sins, because I knew I was going to die, and then the murderer opened the closet door, and shot my cousin and me about five times. I felt the bullets' impact, but it didn't hurt. As everything became dark and fuzzy, I was aware that if I tried as hard as I could I could survive, but that would be painful, so I let myself go. I felt like I was floating and couldn't feel my body. I remember feeling really content, like everything was wonderful and peaceful. The only bad thing was, I knew my family would miss me and feel bad needlessly, "needlessly" because dying was wonderful. I also felt kinda bad because I have allot of goals in life, and I never got to fufill them because I died so young. Then everything faded to black, and the dream ended.

Weird, huh? The odd thing is, I *know* that this is how dying feels, and I'm not afraid anymore. When I have strong feelings in dreams, it feels the same in real life. For example, once I had a dream I was on a rollercoaster. It was really fun and exciting, and I knew that in real life it would feel exactly the same. (I had never been on a rollercoaster in my life at the time.) Months later, I went to 6 Flags and rode the Texas Giant. It felt exactly the same as it had in the dream.



posted on Aug, 13 2004 @ 02:42 PM
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We all die alone. It is sad, but true. You and only you take that step into the unknown. No one can hold your hand when your hand is no longer yours to own.

Edit: Crap! I thought you said lonely, not lovely.:bash:

[Edited on 13-8-2004 by Jonna]


Chi

posted on Aug, 13 2004 @ 02:46 PM
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Another dream like that:

Outside of my church, after mass, I saw this guy that I've fancied for almost three years. We talked, and to make an extremely long and complicated story short, eventually we confessed to each other how we felt (in the dream he liked me back--I'm not sure about real life. ;P) and we decided to date. I "woke up," but it was more like and OOBE than anything, I again felt "floaty" and extremely warm and happy. It was the best feeling I've ever had, besides dying. It turned out that I had not really woken up, it was a dream inside a dream. I dreamt that I dreamt the guy liked me, you see. Complicated, but the best I can explain it.

All of these feelings are VERY real, and I always think that they're real, and am let down when it turns out it was only a dream... any comments?



posted on Aug, 13 2004 @ 02:58 PM
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What you believe is real becomes your perceived reality. Sometimes it is acutally a tramatic event to quickly switch from the dream reality to your 'awake' reality. Are you dreaming now? How would you know?



posted on Aug, 13 2004 @ 03:45 PM
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Wouldn't know whether dying is lovely or not but I'm not afraid to die.



posted on Aug, 13 2004 @ 04:02 PM
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Well - I don't know if it's quite "lovely" for Alzeihmer's patients...or if you were poisined....or asphyxiated....etc...but nonetheless, I see where you're coming from...If you are willing to accept death, whether it is by your hands or not, how can it be anything but a good feeling?

[Edited on 8/13/2004 by EnronOutrunHomerun]



posted on Aug, 13 2004 @ 07:35 PM
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I suppose you cant say its "lovely" but it depends on how you die, for example I would prefer to get shot through to head than to drown.

But i had a dream that I got run through by a sword, and all i could feel was where I got run through was warm, and didnt hurt really.

So i kinda understand how you feel on the subject... because I could swear thats how it would feel in real life.



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