Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Death by giant wave

Last night I dreamt that I died after being hit by a giant wave that rolled over the hills and the houses of San Francisco. I was crushed underneath the bright blue-green water that looked like it should've been soft and warm but wasn't. I woke up immediately, sweating. I've dreamt my own death before, it's always something different but similarly dramatic: an explosion, a stabbing, jumping off a building, an elevator. I can never predict when the dream is going to turn murderous, so I never get a chance to get scared in advance. The fear is always a matter of a single moment, but so intense that it invariably wakes me up. The funny thing is, I don't necessarily think this dream was a particularly bad one. I went on to have a very good day today and only remembered about having died again when I was talking to somebody about deaths by lightnings.

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