I've died so many ways, so many times and so vividly in my dreams. I've been shot, stabbed, strangled and choked. I've been hit by a truck, drowned, fallen, blown up and crashed in a plane. Some are one-time dreams and some are recurring. All feel very real.
The worst ones are drowning, being choked/strangled and having my throat slit. They're just incredibly terrifying-panicking and knowing death is imminent. The most painful is falling. That split second of impact fucking hurts. For some reason, I've never felt the impact of being hit by the truck. Maybe because it whacks my head instantly. I see the grill of the truck, my heart jumps and all goes black. The plane crash is the death that I have the most time to contemplate. Rather than fear, though, my feeling as we're going down is one of utter disappointment. I always scramble to write a note for my family, but never succeed before the crushing impact that forces me and my seat into the seat ahead of me, compressing my head. Being shot in the gut isn't so bad, except for the bleeding part (I die from the bleed out). And being blown up is a piece of cake-there's just a weird sensation of being tugged for a second.
So what's the deal with all this? Is my subconscious really that morbid? Sometimes I think maybe I've lived before and these are all the ways I've died. And maybe the reason so many of the deaths are violent is because I was a bad person in some previous incarnations, but I'm improving with each life. It's not so much that I really believe in reincarnation as I like
the idea of it. I like thinking that at least a part of me has been before and will be again. And that my life is a journey towards another installment, where I'll have another chance to do and be. Or maybe my deaths are all just dreams.