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When your dream makes no sense

I can make up a thousand arguments in my head only to remain silent in real life


The stars

The glimmer of the streets rushed past me as I sped through the narrow alley. I turned and rushed through another road. Tiny dilapidated buildings were visible on either side of the road. I stopped at a wooden post; the yellow street light atop it reflecting the glitter on my black cap. I looked up, the light shone bright in my eyes. My heart was still racing, I took deep heavy breaths and stood still. A tiny silhouette appeared at the other end of the road; a few meters away from me. It got closer and larger. I didn't move. The silhouette finally got close enough for me to make out its outfit. A black shirt and a hood, black sneakers and black gloves; a man I guessed, going by his built. He took something out of his pocket and put his hand forward. Does he want to give me a candy, wait what is that? Yikes. A gun! He pointed the gun at me? But why? He tightened his fingers around the trigger, and pulled it.

My heartbeat rate found its new potential. I stared up as I collapsed. Stars, I muttered, couldn't choose anything weirder as my last words. I caught my stomach as I felt the stinging pain in my abdomen. I was still staring at the stars, but it was weird. The stars were green. I looked up, the glow in the dark stickers on the ceiling emitted bright greenish yellow light. I felt the pain subside and my heart rate getting back to normal.

So, dear me in the parallel world, first of all, why are you in a neighbourhood with dilapidated houses and nothing but ruins? Basic rule of survival, do not run into abandoned areas unless you want to end up like the second lead in a horror movie.

Second, what were you doing as the silhouette got closer? Why would you stay put in one place in a dangerous area when you have been running away from obvious danger until a second ago?

Next, black shirt with a hood? It should either be a hood or be a shirt. Oh, unless, the fashion designers in the parallel world have a lot of ideas up their sleeves. But why are you still standing under the light when an undeniably suspicious figure is looming right in front of you?

Girl, what did you get involved in to get shot at night on an abandoned street? Are you a fugitive running away from the police? Did you indulge in a gang war? Did you get away from a serial killer only to end up in front of him again? Guess I will never know!

Finally, how on earth can a person who has never been shot feel the pain of getting shot? Specifically in the dream world.

I don't know what the point of this article is but I'd like to know if you had weirder dreams. I might as well do a part two with your experience!

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