Woke up. Morning. Cannot remember going to sleep. The lingering dream slowly escapes me and I find myself trapped in the everyday.
Again I find myself doing the same old, same old. Not even remembering if the dream I had had been amazing or downright normal.
That's how days pass lately. Nothing new, nothing special, all the same.
Back to the loss of time called life. This thing I'm not living anymore. I'm just continuing on this path I put myself on, was in part put on, and keep going at it with the speed of a freight train and with as much excitement.
The days pass, turn into months and I don't see anymore what the point in life it. I decide to end it. Here lies John will be written on the tombstone overlooking my grave. My usual grave in the usual cemetery of the usual man.
I wake up in the morning. I'm still alive. I had taken enough pills to kill a horse but I'm still breathing. And the lingering dream lingers a bit more than usual. And I remember something about control. Gone again!
The day passes as any other. But I only think of finishing what I started. So the rope is set, there is a chair. And I can feel myself drift into nothingness as the rope tightens around my neck. The chair making the usual thud as it falls.
Morning. Dream lingering. The feeling of control from the dream gets stronger. It captivates me. I want to keep it forever. And as I think about it it's gone. There is no more. The memory gone. The dream a thing of the past.
The chair is still on the floor. The rope hangs, unused right above it.
Another day. Dying the prevailing thought.
I get home, fill up the tub. Prepare wires, replace the fuse with a nail. Go into the water, drop the wires, drift into nothingness.
The dream stays there for long. I can see myself controlling it all, the world is my slave, it does what I want. Even waking up I can still feel a small amount of the power permeating through me. I feel like I can still bend it to my will. And then. Nothing.
Another day. I wish I was dead already.
This time I decide to take it beyond failure. I climb on top of the highest building in town. And jump off. As I hit the pavement, so does the pain. I drift into nothingness.
I wake up, in my usual bed, with the dream painfully scorched into my mind. I can see the way I did it in the dream. I see I can still do it. I can control the world. I can change it. I can meld it to my wishes. Anything I want will happen. So I decide this would be a nice day to die. I think of it. I choose it.
There is a big woosh. John dissapears while standing in the middle of the road. And the people around him act as if he never existed.
Slowly reality collapses. The only reason for it's existence gone.
Morning comes never again.
40 Years On and more on Substack
10 months ago