Chapter 11: Dream
Last night I dreamt that all my friends (including anyone who would possibly read this journal) were killed in a massive explosion, the result of a terrorist attack. Before they passed on to heaven, however, their spirits all dropped off to visit me at work. They congregated in the office lobby and in my small office room, lounging about and talking with each other and with me. It was strange, because even though I knew they had died and I would see them no more, I wasn't at all sad or upset, but was glad rather that I had the chance to see so many people I haven't spent much time with lately. I shook hands and received hugs, and my friends were actually all very cheerful and excited to be dead. In fact, at one point, they (even you, dear reader) began to sing joyful hymns, praising their new state of non-existence. Everyone was so glad their lives and troubles and suffering were over; I couldn't help but envy them. One by one, however, they bagan to fade and disappear (presumeably moving on to the afterlife), until only one was left with me in the office. As he began to fade, I asked him what he would have done differently in life if he could live it over. He said, "I'd have died much sooner. You don't know how wonderful it is" and disappeared.
When I woke up, I thought "Hmmm... I don't know if my subconscious is trying to convince me to kill myself, or if it's just reminding me that I need to become more social."
When I woke up, I thought "Hmmm... I don't know if my subconscious is trying to convince me to kill myself, or if it's just reminding me that I need to become more social."