(USA, 50’s) This nightmare was a strange one, sort of anti-climactic and almost boring, after the bang-up start. It began with a cut and ended with… I don’t know what.
I was in a strange apartment with a bunch of friends– dream friends, not real ones — but we were all there together. I think we all lived there together.
In my dream, everyone was dying.
All of our throats were cut, and all of our blood had poured out on the floor. Everyone’s neck had a big gash in it.
We were all so sad. And we felt tired. After all my blood had drained out, I felt so so tired. I was sure I was going to lie down and die any minute.
But I didn’t.
That was the weird part: shouldn’t we all be dead already?
But we weren’t. We were dying, but slowly, or at least not right away. So it seemed like we might as well do the laundry… and clean up the apartment a bit… and talk to each other. We just kept going because it seemed like a good idea, that is, to keep moving and keep doing things, even when we didn’t know when it might all end.
After I woke up, I was haunted by that knowledge: we ARE all dying. We don’t know when. Do something already.