More sane while I'm sleeping?

[chinchillachica]

I had this dream last week. Most of what came before and after what I'm about to explain is more or less irrelevant. The moment I wish to speak of took place in my basement. My mother, the enemy character of my dream, and myself were all there. I was being held at knife point by the enemy character of who, for reasons I cannot recall, was pretty serious about harming me. That's putting it far nicer than it was. I was caught, cornered, hopeless--in a deathtrap--while my mother watched the threatening blade at my throat press farther into my flesh, so close to drawing blood. I was a goner. I knew it. My last task in life was to send my mother away, hoping to in turn spare her life while mine was most certainly going to be sacrificed. My mother and I were both a bit frantic. I kept yelling at her to go. Pleading with her, insisting that there was no choice but to leave me to die. Finally she makes to go and suddenly I'm shouting--in a positively DESPERATE manner--"Mom! Love life! Please, remember that! Love life! Love your life! Always love life! LOVE LIFE!!!!!" The same notion over and over again as I felt my finals minutes falling upon me. It was the one thing I wanted to leave with my mother. The one thing I wanted to leave the world. The one thing for which the story of my end would stand. Love life.

If that's not my subconscious roaring a wake-up call (ba-dum-chhhhhh) in my direction, I don't know what is.