(no subject)
Hi..
I'm new and I'm confused. I'm not necessarily sure I believe in past lives, but I've felt things that I cannot explain. I recently wrote a post about it in my personal journal. It was more of a freewrite to get it off my chest than anything. I just... I don't know. I thought maybe someone could help me figure out what do to :\
Again, this is just a freewrite so there may be some typos. I needed so desperately to write this that I didn't worry too much about my grammer or spelling...
I woke up two nights ago expecting to find myself in a hospital room. I’d been running, so scared, fleeing from something in a house when a swat team arrived. In their attempt to rescue me they set off a flash grenade and the shock of it knocked me unconscious, hid me in darkness so complete that even my dream-self didn’t think she’d wake. When I came to - in the dream, still - I couldn’t breathe. I was being wheeled down a hospital corridor at a pace that made me ill, fluorescent lights flashing overhead like a brightly lit speedometer. I kept trying to get it across to the faces floating above me that I couldn’t breathe. They intubated me. I felt the tube slide down, fought it every step despite knowing it would bring me relief and as soon as the air began to flow through I felt my breathing ease. I’d never concentrated so hard on the effort it too for my lungs to expand, cradle that column of air like a lover and then contract, send it fleeing up and out of my body to be replaced. I woke up gasping. I remember that I complained of smelling soot and feeling so cold and desperately afraid.
It was strange to relate all of this back to someone. My friend couldn’t wrap his mind around the clarity of it all. The reality of something that isn’t supposed to be real. He told me it was just a graphic dream. Nothing more. Not something to be worried about. I'm not sure. I don’t understand how or why I feel what I do, but it’s there. These thoughts and feelings. Experiences and emotions that aren’t mine but are, somehow, just that. Mine. I dream of things I haven’t done. They come so clear and sharp it scares me.
I sit at a café in Paris with a cup of coffee too hot to be sipped. There is a man with me, jet hair and sunstone skin like a promise of something I don’t deserve. It’s earlier in time, years back. We are elegant and svelte in our youth and designer clothes. His kiss tastes like cinnamon and fresh bread and I want to eat him up. I settle for tucking ever-so-neatly under his arm and against his side. He smells like leather and ozone and fresh earth. Like home.
It’s like subconscious high-definition. There are smells and tastes so real I wake up with them stuck in my throat and cloying in my nostrils. In the light of the morning after I lay in bed trying not to forget and mull them over. I try to discern them, dissect them like a sommelier tries to interpret a fine and complicated wine.
I am young and terrified, desperate for a hit of coke and behind the wheel of a car that isn’t mine. It’s too fast and too big, an unwieldy giant of a luxury sedan and the cop I pass must realize I don’t look like the type to be driving it because he pulls out. The surge of fear I feel as I see those blue lights start flashing behind me is overwhelming and I almostalmostalmost lose control and hit a tree before the beast beneath me wakes and responds fully to my foot on the gas pedal.
There are others. Some more vague and some, like my fling in Paris, are so real that thinking of it makes me ache because I miss it so much. It’s gotten to the point that I honestly don’t know who is me anymore. There are too many versions of me in too many times locked in my head. I don’t know which to chose. I have said so many times that 'I want to go home,' felt so desperate to go 'home' only to realize I was in my own bed or sitting on my own front porch. Maybe I'm just crazy.
Sorry if I sound stupid or like I'm rambling. I really just don't know where else to post this and I'm hoping maybe someone, somewhere, can help me make sense of this.
I'm new and I'm confused. I'm not necessarily sure I believe in past lives, but I've felt things that I cannot explain. I recently wrote a post about it in my personal journal. It was more of a freewrite to get it off my chest than anything. I just... I don't know. I thought maybe someone could help me figure out what do to :\
Again, this is just a freewrite so there may be some typos. I needed so desperately to write this that I didn't worry too much about my grammer or spelling...
I woke up two nights ago expecting to find myself in a hospital room. I’d been running, so scared, fleeing from something in a house when a swat team arrived. In their attempt to rescue me they set off a flash grenade and the shock of it knocked me unconscious, hid me in darkness so complete that even my dream-self didn’t think she’d wake. When I came to - in the dream, still - I couldn’t breathe. I was being wheeled down a hospital corridor at a pace that made me ill, fluorescent lights flashing overhead like a brightly lit speedometer. I kept trying to get it across to the faces floating above me that I couldn’t breathe. They intubated me. I felt the tube slide down, fought it every step despite knowing it would bring me relief and as soon as the air began to flow through I felt my breathing ease. I’d never concentrated so hard on the effort it too for my lungs to expand, cradle that column of air like a lover and then contract, send it fleeing up and out of my body to be replaced. I woke up gasping. I remember that I complained of smelling soot and feeling so cold and desperately afraid.
It was strange to relate all of this back to someone. My friend couldn’t wrap his mind around the clarity of it all. The reality of something that isn’t supposed to be real. He told me it was just a graphic dream. Nothing more. Not something to be worried about. I'm not sure. I don’t understand how or why I feel what I do, but it’s there. These thoughts and feelings. Experiences and emotions that aren’t mine but are, somehow, just that. Mine. I dream of things I haven’t done. They come so clear and sharp it scares me.
I sit at a café in Paris with a cup of coffee too hot to be sipped. There is a man with me, jet hair and sunstone skin like a promise of something I don’t deserve. It’s earlier in time, years back. We are elegant and svelte in our youth and designer clothes. His kiss tastes like cinnamon and fresh bread and I want to eat him up. I settle for tucking ever-so-neatly under his arm and against his side. He smells like leather and ozone and fresh earth. Like home.
It’s like subconscious high-definition. There are smells and tastes so real I wake up with them stuck in my throat and cloying in my nostrils. In the light of the morning after I lay in bed trying not to forget and mull them over. I try to discern them, dissect them like a sommelier tries to interpret a fine and complicated wine.
I am young and terrified, desperate for a hit of coke and behind the wheel of a car that isn’t mine. It’s too fast and too big, an unwieldy giant of a luxury sedan and the cop I pass must realize I don’t look like the type to be driving it because he pulls out. The surge of fear I feel as I see those blue lights start flashing behind me is overwhelming and I almostalmostalmost lose control and hit a tree before the beast beneath me wakes and responds fully to my foot on the gas pedal.
There are others. Some more vague and some, like my fling in Paris, are so real that thinking of it makes me ache because I miss it so much. It’s gotten to the point that I honestly don’t know who is me anymore. There are too many versions of me in too many times locked in my head. I don’t know which to chose. I have said so many times that 'I want to go home,' felt so desperate to go 'home' only to realize I was in my own bed or sitting on my own front porch. Maybe I'm just crazy.
Sorry if I sound stupid or like I'm rambling. I really just don't know where else to post this and I'm hoping maybe someone, somewhere, can help me make sense of this.