24 Mayıs 2023

A ghost caught in a dream


You’ve heard the old saw about waking up dead, haven’t you? I did, and let me tell you it’s about as fucked up as being alive.When I awoke for the first time post death, I wasn’t sure what had happened. I’d lived my life about the same as everyone else, and like everyone else I’d died. In my case it had been a heart attack that laid me low. Dying sucks, I’m here to tell you, and it’s a damned good thing you only have to do it once. No one, and I mean NO one, would ever sign up for a second death.Being dead isn’t bad, it’s the getting there that’s a bitch. It’s kind of like one of those vacations to an obscure little Pacific island. Once there it’s Paradise, but Ankara escort getting there is a royal pain in the ass, or in my case in the chest.When you’re dead, there is no more pain, and that’s a good thing. The flip side is there isn’t much in the way of physical sensation of the pleasurable kind either. What you have is your mind, your thoughts, your emotions. Those go on in full cinematic glory, no escaping. In a sense it’s even worse than being alive because the living have their body to counterbalance their emotional side, provide sensation to add to awareness, even if it’s just a hiccup or a fart.My first manifestation was Ankara escort bayan like a gathering of dust motes, tiny bits of my thoughts and feelings accreting into a cohesive whole, as in a body. Have you ever woken slowly, your senses coming online one by one? It’s like that, like coming up from some unknown depth into the light of awareness. An old sodden dead log floating to the surface.I became aware of myself first, trying to grasp what was happening to me, grasp that this was not the endless sleep some expect, no eternal dirt nap.When I had that settled in my mind, I started to become aware of my surroundings. I Escort Ankara was apparently in the second story of an old house, judging from the trees I could see through a window in the left wall. The light was coming through the window, strong but a little diffuse from the wispy fog it had to penetrate. A square of light fell through the dusty panes.The grid of light fell not on the floor but upon a young woman sitting on the floor. I recognized her instantly. Sally, an old sometimes friend and constant romantic obsession. She was sitting lotus fashion, her wrists resting on her knees. The most tantalizing part was that Sally was naked.She was the same as she had always been in my dreams and feverish imaginings. Her short straight brown hair was brushed casually back, the tips ending above her slim shoulders. Her almond eyes of brown were framed by heavy eyebrows and long lashes.Her face was dominated by a straight blade of a nose of average size.

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