Sometime ago, I had this dream of being killed—by my friends. At the onset of the dream or nightmare (for the term dream often connotes happy things), I sensed already that death is coming. An unstoppable event, predicament that made me accept and just wait for death to come. And so death arrives in the form of three hooded figures, all cloaked like dementors. As I sat in my couch, I thought why does God have to put me in this situation? I felt so scared at the thought of dying young. When the three figures approached me, the two held my hands in a sort of crucifixion way and the other one, lifted my head and aimed for my neck. But before the knife pass through my neck, I saw that the killers were actually my friends. Long time friends whom I known since forever (well at least to me it is). Sudden shocked creeps into my system before I lose my breath and darkness envelopes me. The nightmare ends there.The morning after I asked my friend, Elea (who sorts of interprets dreams) about it. She told me that I’m just doing many things related perhaps to my friends or I’m doing too many things for other people. My unconscious is telling me to stop and to take a deep breath. Apparently, dreams aren’t so literal (thank God). I’m still alive so I guess no one is going to kill who here. In short, I’m just stressed out because I’m doing many things.
Sighs.
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