From the Archives: 11 years ago on SoulSnax

...in this dream, I was working with a couple of police detectives who were trying to analyze a sort of clear, reddish liquid that had a reddish tinge. It reminded me of the juice that collects in the bottom of the meat drawer of neglected refrigerators. I decided to lead the detectives to the mortuary section of the hospital. You know, the room where they store the dead bodies in drawers and autopsy tables...

When I opened the first drawer, I noticed that the stiff, pale, drained and deflated corpse was my own. I looked at the wound in the stomach, and commented, "Whoa, what happened there?"

One of the detectives answered, "Well, you did get shot in the stomach. You know, when you tried to get the gun from that guy."

"Really? Hmm..." I remarked plainly as I tried to recall the event. Then I noticed some of my clothes, which happened to be folded neatly next to my body. As I looked at my bloodied merino sweater soaking in a pool of that aforementioned clear liquid, I couldn't help but think of the dry cleaning bill that I was going to have to pay. I closed the drawer, and then opened another one.

Inside the drawer lay my corpse, again. So I closed it, and opened another drawer, only to see my corpse again. I turned to the detectives and chuckled, "Hmm, heh... I guess I'm dead, huh?"

"Eh, don't worry about it," replied the other detective, as if they were going to take care of the rest. At this point I started to feel upset because I couldn't help thinking of all the things I had to take care of for the upcoming week.

"Really... I don't have time for that now," I muttered, trying to figure out how I could reschedule this death thing...

UPDATE 2/27/98: I mentioned the above dream to my brother yesterday and he said that he also had a dream that I died. I don't know what to think anymore.