I first started with apologies to my mom. Then to my ex from the beginning of the year. Last, to the man I visited in Vienna.

Somehow, in the tapestries of human subconsciousness, this all took place in an unassuming grocery aisle.

aisle
While googling this photo, I came across the liquor aisle. I wish my subconscious was that cool .

The dream came to me fast – the way light travels faster than sound. I could feel my physical body catching up to the helms of fleeting imagination, like I was being lifted, and it felt like the whole story unraveled within the condense few seconds my conscious mind took to register the sunlight.

7:56am, I opened my eyes and saw my phone.

I first apologized to my mom.With foreshadowing remorse because I knew what I was doing. Then my ex was brushing against my backside in the grocery aisle, looking over my shoulder at something. I felt his approval. I felt our excitement. The kind of lust and young puppy love attraction. The feeling seemed to melt or dissipate in an abstract way, much like Picasso’s art [Scream]. Then he was there, whom I was most sorry to. Note: *I am overwhelmingly sorry to my mom to be sure, but I think I have gone through this process too many times for the thought not to wear.

Laying in bed, I looked outside my bedroom window and saw the grey cast of a sleepy day. Mind ticking away to grasp the reclining dreamscape that always seems to want to say something.

It was the thought that they wouldn’t believe I am sorry. So I apologized one by one in due diligence.

“I am sorry, Mom.”

“Hey you, you were a great guy. I’m sorry.”

“And you.” I can only smile sadly. Bravely. “I’m sorry.”

Then I shot myself.

I thought about this dream while I brushed my teeth this morning and wondered whether it was supposed to be a sinister indication of my mental health. I didn’t think so. Not so much holding in mind the subject matter, but rather the sort of ecstatic imprint it had left behind. I felt like I had come upon an epiphany without knowing what the revelation was.

On the bus ride home from work I thought about my ex again. I found our last messsage in my phone and wrote a simple paragraph to apologize and wish him best of luck. I think about the last 5 days – when I had first begun the challenge to put myself back on a ‘core’ run. Back to reading the books, plunging into healthy thoughts and putting your mind at ease all the while. Sometimes I do indeed narrow into a bit of a pickle with myself and doubt the integrity of this impassive calm that has come upon me since. I felt good and in one breath of air I wanted to laugh aloud.

What a load of escapism, these thoughts of death.

I ran through a mental dialogue of explaining this revelation to someone else (as one does). I thought about his reaction. Maybe I’m still working on the incline to not feel the need to prove my sincerity, but today I feel good. And somehow this odd, disturbing dream had been the pivot point, in the dream where I shot myself.