This little boy murdered me in my dreams. A twelve year old, blonde-haired blue-eyed. It was the first time that my being had ever experienced being shot. The child put a pistol up to my chest at point-blank range. He had no fear but at the same time he had no idea. The bullet pierced through my heart. The kind of machine he used to kill me was irrelevant, as my organ, and my life shattered regardless. It felt like a part of me was killing myself. There was unbridled panic and every instant carried with it less of a chance for survival. I opened up, realizing unbroken blackness. I woke up and wandered for miles. This was not me. I had not been able to deal with the thoughts resulting from this dream like usual ones. Every time I saw a child, they aroused those fears. Violence begets violence, and since I could not distinguish between the waking world and that of slumber, I thought of terrible things without any inner moral recourse. There were people around that seemed to recognize me, yet I did not know who they were. I could not spare my vapid thoughts to anyone else. That was when I truly gained an appreciation for reality. I reached the river. I fulfilled my unnatural desires and then threw myself into oblivion. I was awakened.

11 replies on “Negligible”

I’m overjoyed you saw a ray of light through the bleakness of this story. Twas my intention somewhat, I feel like too many people would interpret this in a nihilistic fashion.

Such an interesting dream… They say all people in dreams are merely aspects of our own Selves – and 12y is the ritual coming of age in many traditions… I think it could mean you are getting rid of some unneeded layers of socialization – and going back to your core-Self…

Dreams are as powerful as daytime consciousness, sometimes more so because they know more.

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