Friday, June 18, 2004

"Every Day Above Ground is a Good One"

However magnificently whimsical they are, those Six Feet Under Season 4 posters recently put up in Grand Central station must have some weird subliminal messages in them because I had two death-related dreams last night. In the first one, I attended the funeral of a friend (who I can't even recall now) with a bunch of other random people and struggled to find something to say in my eulogy. I don't remember if I ever did deliver the powerful, poignant speech I was crafting in my dream. It was all a blur, probably had something to do with all the drinks I had in my bartending class last night.

In my next dream, my sweater fell on to the train tracks while I was waiting for the subway, except I wasn't in a subway station. When I hopped into the muddy pit to retrieve the sweater, a train came roaring down the muddy tracks toward me. I grabbed the sweater and tried to outrun it but slipped and fell. I remember thinking, "so this is it, this is the end for me" before being run over. It was only the second dream I have ever had in which I died. The first time I dreamed my own death I was probably 13 or 14. In my dream I was fighting against an assassin. He killed me with a flying dagger. I still remember how I woke up thinking, "Holy shit, I can't believe I just died!"

I must say that getting run over by a train has to be one of the shittiest ways to die. It sucks for you, your parents and friends who can't even see you in one piece, the police officers who have to scrape the chunks of you off the tracks and platform, the passengers who have to wait for hours while the police collect you, the mortician(s) who have to clean the pieces of you up. It's just a big fucking hassle and waste of time for everyone involved. What kind of assholes would kill themselves by train? What a bunch of selfish bastards!