I Died and My Mom Laughed at My Corpse
I know I've been away. And thanks for all of you out there (who actually read my blogs).
If you read my previous blogs from the past, you know that I'm absolutely IN LOVE with music. Well I'm the same way about dreams.
Dreams influence people. It tells us unconsciously what our waking minds are afraid to tell us. Sometimes dreams can be prophetic and most of the times they're very symbolic. As the rapper Tupac once said: "Reality is wrong. Dreams are for real". He nailed it with that statement. It's so true. It's hits my heart to the very core, because dreams are an extension--- a vision or message that God is trying to tell us about.
My phone rang around 3:20 pm and it scared the sh*t out of me. I woke up almost jumping out of my bed. Some dream I had. It was my brother calling to tell me to come pick him up from school.
I'm bracing myself as I speak. It was creepy, almost lucid and of course some symbolic state trying to contact my real world.
I dreamt I was getting out of bed to go feed my dog Major. I walked outside in the yard, and I didn't see him. I screamed "Major, boy!" but he wasn't around. So I figured maybe he was in the house and I'd just forgotten about it. I thought I looked everywhere. Bathroom, dining area, bedrooms, kitchen... Major was no where to be found. I started panicking. I couldn't believe I lost my own pet.
Garry, my brother came home from school, and I told him I lost the dog. He led me straight to my parent's closet. And there was Major. Sleeping peacefully in the closet---paws sticking out. If I didn't know any better I'd say he was snoring. The dog was getting some good sleep--- in between my mom and dads shoes and clothes.
Then Mom came home from work and she was carrying a casket. She sat the casket on the kitchen counter. She'd carried it in as if she'd been carrying dead bodies for years, with such ease. The casket was a pale beige color, like the color of the kitchen cabinets. I asked her who was in the casket. Then she smiled at me. She opened the casket and said "It's you. This is what you'll look like when you die and when we bury you." And for some odd reason when she said that, she couldn't stop laughing afterwards. I was wondering why she would laugh at my dead body.
I walked over to the other side. She was right. That was me. But what made it scary was it was me... as a young girl-- a child laying in the casket. It was me at 12 or 13 years old. There was my younger self: in a pale green dress, my hair in long cornrows/braids. Laying there. Lifeless.
My mom kept joking about my corpse. She kept giggling and walked off. I was mad. Strangely, I dipped my hands in the casket and reached for my body. I picked my body up and shook it as hard as I could. My dead body for sure was dead. I didn't wake up and my eyes remained closed. Still with so much anger, I kept shaking it hoping it would wake up and come alive. The un-living was... un-living. That part of me was gone. It was time to move on.
Next thing I knew, I woke up and it was my brother Garry calling me to pick him up from school. "Back to the real world" I thought.
Tupac's view on dreams was right. The reality is in the dreams. Its how God speaks to us through our mind, experiences, environments we surround ourselves by and how we develop. Everyday we're developing in some way, through others and struggles, inspirations or just the little things we see daily that spark our mind. Dreams are a gateway to what lies ahead, what's happening now, or things we've left behind. What are your dreams saying about you?
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| Enter my reality |
If you read my previous blogs from the past, you know that I'm absolutely IN LOVE with music. Well I'm the same way about dreams.
Dreams influence people. It tells us unconsciously what our waking minds are afraid to tell us. Sometimes dreams can be prophetic and most of the times they're very symbolic. As the rapper Tupac once said: "Reality is wrong. Dreams are for real". He nailed it with that statement. It's so true. It's hits my heart to the very core, because dreams are an extension--- a vision or message that God is trying to tell us about.
My phone rang around 3:20 pm and it scared the sh*t out of me. I woke up almost jumping out of my bed. Some dream I had. It was my brother calling to tell me to come pick him up from school.
I'm bracing myself as I speak. It was creepy, almost lucid and of course some symbolic state trying to contact my real world.
I dreamt I was getting out of bed to go feed my dog Major. I walked outside in the yard, and I didn't see him. I screamed "Major, boy!" but he wasn't around. So I figured maybe he was in the house and I'd just forgotten about it. I thought I looked everywhere. Bathroom, dining area, bedrooms, kitchen... Major was no where to be found. I started panicking. I couldn't believe I lost my own pet.
Garry, my brother came home from school, and I told him I lost the dog. He led me straight to my parent's closet. And there was Major. Sleeping peacefully in the closet---paws sticking out. If I didn't know any better I'd say he was snoring. The dog was getting some good sleep--- in between my mom and dads shoes and clothes.
Then Mom came home from work and she was carrying a casket. She sat the casket on the kitchen counter. She'd carried it in as if she'd been carrying dead bodies for years, with such ease. The casket was a pale beige color, like the color of the kitchen cabinets. I asked her who was in the casket. Then she smiled at me. She opened the casket and said "It's you. This is what you'll look like when you die and when we bury you." And for some odd reason when she said that, she couldn't stop laughing afterwards. I was wondering why she would laugh at my dead body.
I walked over to the other side. She was right. That was me. But what made it scary was it was me... as a young girl-- a child laying in the casket. It was me at 12 or 13 years old. There was my younger self: in a pale green dress, my hair in long cornrows/braids. Laying there. Lifeless.
My mom kept joking about my corpse. She kept giggling and walked off. I was mad. Strangely, I dipped my hands in the casket and reached for my body. I picked my body up and shook it as hard as I could. My dead body for sure was dead. I didn't wake up and my eyes remained closed. Still with so much anger, I kept shaking it hoping it would wake up and come alive. The un-living was... un-living. That part of me was gone. It was time to move on.
Next thing I knew, I woke up and it was my brother Garry calling me to pick him up from school. "Back to the real world" I thought.
Tupac's view on dreams was right. The reality is in the dreams. Its how God speaks to us through our mind, experiences, environments we surround ourselves by and how we develop. Everyday we're developing in some way, through others and struggles, inspirations or just the little things we see daily that spark our mind. Dreams are a gateway to what lies ahead, what's happening now, or things we've left behind. What are your dreams saying about you?
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