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And my dreams are strange dreams, are day dreams, are grey dreams,
And my dreams are wild dreams, and old dreams and new;
They haunt me and daunt me with fears of the morrow —
My brothers they doubt me — but my dreams come true.
-- Henry Lawson


Highgate Cemetery

Joined on 8/24/16

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My Death

Posted by GXFICH - October 17th, 2019

I felt myself leaving my body and rising up into the air.

I can`t say being dead was a terrible disappointment, but then again I can`t say it was really a relief either.

I suppose it`s hard to feel anything having passed on.

Being dead feels surreal, everything seems somehow cartoonish.

I saw my body and to my surprise it looked just like a cartoon ghost.

I saw the battlefield below me for a spilt second then I went in to a cloud and everything went black.

I felt that time was passing at an incredible speed, like what felt like a second was really a thousand years.

One of the advantages of being dead is that you gain a far better perspective, I could see all sorts of things over millions of miles, the past, present and future, I saw the structure of the universe all in a strange simplified disordered cartoonish light and all at the same time.

I might have gone on seeing but then a terrible sensation came over me.

I felt a terrible pull and suddenly there I was back to Earth, floating above a huge camp fire.

A long haired, bearded middle aged man. dressed in rich colourful garments was waving an ancient shinbone in one hand and an even more ancient cracked and battered skull that I knew instinctively to be mine in the other.

Around the campfire was played out a terrible scene of rape, bloody murder and torture carried out by charcoal smeared men and women all wearing animal skulls across their face against their tightly bound prisoners.

I was filled with disgust and anger, I floated up to one of the prisoners and tried to free them but I could not even touch them.

The man with my skull let out a yell and into where my ear had been he whispered, "You are mine now".

Green fire danced around his hands

I tried to pull away but couldn`t.

I wasn`t having this, I tried harder.

The fire began to flicker, the man began to squint and visibly sagged.

I tried even harder.

The fire leapt wildly, the man turned pale.

The man struck my skull with the bone and a terrible ringing sound filled whatever part of my anatomy did the job of ears.

I put every scrap of strength I had into trying to get away, a terrible tension filled the air the fire dimmed then turned into a pile of embers.

All at once every bird in the vicinity began to call, sticks and logs from around the fire lifted themselves off the ground.

The mans stood frozen, his face a grotesque white mask, blood was pouring from his mouth, ears and nostrils, his eyes were bloodshot.

I felt myself run out of strength, then there was a great wind, the fire shot right up and in a ball of flames I went flying away as fast as I could.

As I flew through the countryside I started to feel cold and lost and tired, I tried to slow myself down but I couldn`t .

I tried to grab on to a tree but my hand just slipped off giving my hand a terrible burning sensation.

I was floating like this for miles through a dark and gloomy forest when all at once I felt myself come to a stop.

I cautiously turned myself around, then to my surprise I started moving again.

To my disgust I found myself going back the way I came.

I carried on floating around uncontrollably for the best part of a month.

Eventually I started to float slower and slower, I began to pick up the knack of controlling where I went.

Then all at once I finally came to a complete halt.

I very carefully floated a few inches forward, then a few inches backwards then I passed out.

I awoke In a humble but comfortable cottage.