Not the first time...

Last night I was shot in the head.

It is the newest dream in my memory, and one of the most memorable yet. But not the first in which I was shot through the head. There was another dream I was shot in. I died in that dream. Yeah, they say if you die in a dream, you die in real life, but I didn't. It was terrifying, make no mistake, but the dream continued in a bizarre inhuman fashion... Maybe the description of that dream will see life in another blog... but...

In this latest dream, I did not die, however the results were extremely gruesome and very terrifying. I was struggling to cope with being shot, bleeding everywhere, flesh and bone dangling. I was a bloody mess. Somebody wanted me dead.

I was actually shot twice. The first one glanced me, or grazed me, or something, but did little damage, like being punched or hit with something, but the second shot...

The second shot, I don't know why it didn't kill me. It went through my head. It went through my brain. It splattered my flesh. It cracked and shattered my skull. It matted my hair with the fluids contained in my cranium. My brains were certainly damaged.

Yet I was alive. I don't know why now, and I didn't in my dream. I was confused there, as much as I am now. I can't explain how I could survive, and I think of those shows on TLC or Discovery where they show people surviving bizarre trauma. In fact, my attackers seemed quite disturbed by the fact that my skull could be opened by a bullet and yet I still lived. I think, on my part, there was some acceptance of the fact that my brains were smashed, but I could still reason and I still had motor control of my body and that was enough, whatever damage or loss there may be, it was enough still, to survive...

So I ran. I ran like a motherfucker. Shit. I was just blasted through the fucking skull and I was still alive. I was delirious. Desperate. I ran into some kind of shop, like a department store only smaller. It was bright, but at night. Maybe there was jewelry, and perfume. Possibly clothes. It was definitely feminine.

And while the people there were rather concerned, they were reluctant to help. In fact they did not help. I tried to escape my attackers, yet they followed me everywhere I ran to.

The results of the dream remain unknown. Like so many dreams, there isn't really a start, middle and ending, like the movies. Just senseless events.


I was alive, last thing I remember....