I don't know why. I'm really amused by these dreams. Yes, I know "another one of yours". That would be a perfectly good response. So I apologize for being so repetitive. Anywho, I'm gonna write about it anyway, because I don't know the why of it. I'm usually able to sense where did inspiration came, or why would I dream about X thing. Not this time.
Again, I should recall a certain feature of my dreams. Almost every night for the last, maybe 24 years, maybe more, I have had a "soap opera" in my head. I mean, I have crazy or vanilla dreams as anyone. Then 15 minutes of my prime show. Continuations of previous nights, as a series. So for example I could dream about a casual chat with friends at work. That would take almost all night. I almost always remember my dreams, btw. I would watch even the normal repetitions. You know, scenes repeat a couple of times with little changes each time. I think that's the normal way for everyone to dream. However I have an extra, a little bubble of a continuing dream. Short, Succint and Familiar, it is. I have come to expect it at the end of my dreams. That's how I know its time to wake up or that I haven't sleep enough.
In these dreams, I'm a demon hunter. Some friends say I have read too much RPG. I have had this dream longer than the time I have had these friends, so maybe I don't. Over the years my dreams have got elegance. When I was a child I dreamed about learning about my abilities. As an adolescent I was a fighter. One could think these dreams where just a way for me to cope with insecurities. Be powerful in at least my dreams. That's a typical adolescent wish, I guess. And let us be honest, kids love to dream about having super powers. Who wouldn't dream about a great destiny? Who wouldn't dream about being a knight? A hero?
Maybe that's why this post is so defensive. I'm worried about who might read this. On the other hand, if I want my kids to read my true self, I need to take the risk. I know myself. If I don't post this, I will lost the document. Anyway Memo, keep writing.
These dreams were great, until the moment I became an atheist. You can see there was an struggle. People wish there was magic in this world. Real magic. On one hand I was for the first time being 100% honest to the evidence; and in the other, my inner dreamer wanted to continue with the adventure. I made a truce. Dream whatever you want, but when you wake up, realize no matter how much it would be great for that to exist, it won't. I know how self-absorbed and plain silly all this sounds. You know kids. We love drama. We love epic. Anyway, that's how it went.
I grew in powers, skill and even in my dreams I had fame among demons. I don't recall when, but one day I decided that hunting in the streets wasn't enough. That day I crossed the line. I became rogue. Maybe my atheist part told me that there was no point in believing in angels. Anyway, I went to hell. Instead of fighting intruders, now I was moving the fight to their side. Once or twice I attempted to be a silent assassin. Killing big fishes and all that. I learned it was better to be a show off. It scared them more. So I became a plague, leaving entire kingdoms empty. Again, I don't know when, but one day I decided that I could be more powerful if I could eat their power. Only I didn't want to be taint. That's when I went to heaven. I found a way to purify their flesh by burning them up there. Of course, most of the power was gone once purified but I grew nonetheless. That went well for maybe two years. Until I decided that maybe there's a reason for demons to exist. I could hunt them all, but what would be gained? That's when I truly went neutral.
For two weeks or so I stopped dreaming about that second life. As if part of me had realized there was no point on doing that anymore. However, I'm used to it, so I became wary. People fear change, I guess, even if it is for the better. I suppose there's a part of me who tries to do something useful even when dreaming. Maybe that's why I constructed that imaginary world. Eventually, I returned to my adventures, but they were a bit dull. I decided to stop fighting in hell and be happy with my city being safe. That's when I had the last dream I talked about in this blog. As with any good series, I have arcs, I have enemies, regular cast, etc. I don't dream of god so often these days. I don't complain.
Then, two weeks ago, I had a strange dream. I hate the word "strange" because I have used it up so many times. My dreams routine is being different than the previous but in line with them. As if an ever expanding universe. I dreamed about being in charge of bringing the Apocalypse. Well, not really. When the dream started I had already resigned that position. I mean, the dream background (you know, when you dream, you already know tons of things so that the story isn't so slow) was that about a month before an angel told me to start packing the world. Find the worthy and bring havoc to the rest. For a while I rode along four horsemen bringing desolation and the usual things. It was fun, let me tell you. However a good friend, david stopped me. He asked me to be rational. I found out that this angel had attempted it several times through history. Even more, the same night he told me my mission, he went with seven more telling the same story. All of them with some kind of power. :@ Stupid me. Of course I returned the horsemen to their traps, I mean, sanctuaries. That's when the dream started. Imagine dreaming about telling the world "I'm sorry for bringing brimstone to all of you. I'm really sorry I shouldn't be so eager to follow angels. Please excuse me." Imagine returning to your family, your friends, your work and all of them know perfectly well how near it was.
You do have the power to raise mountains or sink the moon, but what does it matter when all the people you know, know you were about to bring the end to the world. I'm still ashamed of that action. In a meta-commentary, I do love my subconscious mind for this terrific twist. Now that I'm thinking it, why have I not attempted to hunt this angel??
Anyway, that day I woke up with much urgency to write the dream in this place. Yet I told myself, stop bitching about your super duper dream. No one cares. "I do" I promptly answered. "Well yes, but you always do. At least when you dream anything better than a blip." Note to the reader: I have categorized my dreams by the same metric as some do for ghosts. Blips are "anyone could have dream that". For example, the "Oh no, I didn't study for the test!" Drones are one level below "you are wasting your time dreaming about these things." For example, "You are working" or "You are watching TV" or "You are in the cafeteria".
Tonight I got another one.
That's why I'm here, writing this stuff. Because I can't keep it to me. A little voice says "aha! just as I tell you, this new dream season is pushing for rating!" So what do little memo dreamed now? I dreamed that I went back to having a "normal" life. People continued with their lives. A few became fans. Some went further and thought of myself as a messiah. I always told them that I am not. However maybe me curing the blind, sick and pretty much anyone who asks may have washed my argument. When all settled down, I was foolish enough to try to fix the world. I felt I was in debt for trying to destroy it. So I assumed the form of a demon, Balthazar, and gave the people a common enemy. I refrained myself of anything mighty. Once I brought an earthquake but that was the limit. My plan was to show the people that there are bad things in this world, but that joining forces normal people could hunt demons. Ok, that didn't went well. At first it did, but when you have two hundred people hunting you, they become a mob. I tried to fight the mob mentality. The angrier person I could see, I possess him (again trying to act like a demon). I wanted to show them that being irrational wouldn't be effective. However all that my plan brought was more fear. They killed the possessed man, thinking that would hurt the demon. :S They pushed it from the fourth floor. We died.
In several dreams, at least since secondary I have died. In thousands of ways. Yet more than anything I have died from height. That's why I learned to fly very soon. I hate dying because it hurts, all becomes dizzy and then fuzzy. I could have flight, but I knew that wouldn't accomplish anything to my plan. Ok, maybe I could have saved the life of an innocent. :S This time, I watched the body and saw how my spirit raised. I was thinking what to do next, when Death touched my spiritual shoulder. "What's up?" I said, having talked with him several times. I thought we was coming for the poor guy. In a very Terry Pratchet way, it turns out, there's a special Death role for situations like this. Who would have imagined that there's a clause that you die for real if you kill an innocent while dying? Death, is a nice guy, even when using his funny hat for this special occasion. He gave me 24 hours to close my business. I was a ghost now, but at least I had the power to manifest myself and do pretty much anything that doesn't require a body. My first closure act was to raise the innocent guy. Which unfortunately brought the messiah thing back into the table. Raising from the dead, isn't so difficult people, it's just not proper. It is rude. These souls normally go to a better place, and bringing them back isn't merry. So that's when I sit down and said to myself. Maybe it is for the better me dying. All I do is unnatural. Even when I try to fix my mess, all I do is fuck it more. However my fans had grew powerful themselves. They had learn tricks from following me, at least. Even when I didn't materialize, they could sense me. And follow me. They were avid to see me return to life on the third day! Damn it. I couldn't see them in the face. I was to dye, for good, this time. However the more silent I became, the more anxious my friends went. As if waiting for something... from them! Somehow they spread the word and people start showing up. That's when I decide to run and find myself a quiet spot. However in my rush to escape attention I only get more. Wherever I go, people can sense me and my magic. Like if I were a beacon of hope or something like that. They can feel something strange is happening. As soon as I stop I can see it for myself, I'm changing. I'm flickering. The moment is coming. I materialize myself, knowing it is the last time. "I love you all. Thanks for everything." All the people I care are there. In fact I can see all the people that exist at once. Then I burst. A warm light wave swifts the world. Like a big hug. When the "dust" falls all the people hear a song. I can't describe it as I have never heard anything like that. I know it is my true name and now I'm with everything. "Is this Nirvana?" Oops, I failed again. As soon as I had this conscious thought, I'm back. Stupid Memo! That was your perfect end. I'm still nowhere, but not really non existent :S However all is clear now, crystal clear. People who don't go Nirvana, normally go either to heaven or hell, yet people like me, atheist, don't follow that scheme. My option is backstage. I'm there, but I can't act in anyway. I can indulge in having a form if I wish so. It sounds familiar, so I get my old, normal shape. Now I walk behind the world, seeing all as it really is. I can see why others could think of this as a living hell. I don't. After a time I stop moving through places. I start meditating. All places are really the same, so I'm there the next year. People are gathering at the place I went nova. People are praying. That breaks my slumber. I recognize some faces. Some psychics are trying to read a footprint of my farewell. Buddhist monks tell the people that I am Buddha. Psychics confirm that I passed above phase, whatever that means. Of course, these psychics were bullshit, because now in this backstage all makes sense, so you can detect lies or nonsense by simply not making sense. However Buddhists made the bell ring. I was this close. Damn it. There's some sort of metric that when an enlighten goes, it leaves behind an ethereal flower. I can see it. Though before this talk I didn't look at it. When Siddharta went, it was a 110 petal flower. The Buddhist continue lecturing us about these flowers. Me, I got 30. The petals are a mark of how fit you were to be how it is supposed to be. That means that there's a threshold to ascend. Nice.
That's when I think, well I should keep meditating, I will be, in no time. Then my former friends start with the music. Each of them start telling how much they miss me. Fuck! I think at the same time I think "I wish I could be there for them."
A sharp light manifests, just above my "tomb". "No no no!" I yell. Fighting the reality torrent. Karma is a bitch. I'm back. "Hopefully you have learn something." I say to myself in a low voice. The crowd looks amazed. "Why am I in white robes?" I say in a voice that maybe they can hear. "Tell me you won't start yet another religion."
"I guess I can't avoid it."
The end. In a true Hollywood fashion, normal dreams are interleaved with the closure of this. I can see where this could go, but that would be another episode.