I was running for my life last night. Well, in my dreams at least. I had one of those very long dreams where people keep coming after you with nasty weapons and angry looks and such.
I kept changing to different people, was even a boy at one stage hiding from the men with guns. They were not happy chaps. There were lots of other people running and hiding too.
I used to have dreams like this years ago when I was in an awful situation for a time there, but there weren't other people around, it was just me being chased. There would either be one man or a group after me and there were always fences or walls in the way of my escape. In the better dreams I managed to, after some struggle, get past these obstacles. In the really good ones and this was rare, I would fly away from them. That felt good. Woo hoo! Take that you motherf#*@ers!
So last night in my dream when I was me or a woman at least, one guy caught up to me and was about to shoot me and someone else. I was closest to him so decided to walk up to him. I don't know if part of my plan was helping the other person but I recall that I thought he might chicken out this way or at least get me a damn good shot so it was over quicker. So I got face to face with him and looked him in the eye.
Then he shot me.
It hit me in the throat and I fell back. And I fell... and fell... And I never hit the ground, just kept falling. And it was so peaceful that I smiled and realised this was why people looked so peaceful when they passed away. Falling peacefully and free.
Funny how some dreams stay with you isn't it?
Unfortunately today the hunted prey part is staying with me more than the peaceful falling. Oh well, I'll try to dream something nicer tonight. It will be after I've watched Alias and the MotoGP late this evening so I'll likely whup collective ass with a mean right hook and some twirling high kicks, then flick back my hair and speed off on my red 800cc Ducati. oh yeah.
