That nightmare

When we were kids, our parents use to forbid horror tales to be told.
"It'll give them nightmares" they use to say.
Hell, they even tried not to get us overly excited during our waking hours, because,
"It'll give them nightmares"

I use to think it's bullocks.
Having told gory tales or those of the supernatural would not be able to induce nightmares, in children at least. How do horror tales translate to the dreams we have?

I experienced this first hand.

All those crap horror shit that I listened to on Friday night translated into a very weird dream that very night, or should I say nightmare.
I didn't think I yelled or cried in my nightmare this time (yes, I did in others) but I believe this nightmare was horror-tale induced. That is, exposure to those stories gave me nightmares.
I woke up remembering every single detail of that dream, as of every nightmare I have. I remember them all vividly even till years later.
I don't know why.
Yes, every single little detail.

This nightmare in particular disturbed me a great deal.
Because I wonder if it somehow reflected my subconscious, and if it does? I am screwed, like totally screwed.
How not to freak, when it involved lesbianism (think brokeback and NOT porn) and a suicide.
Surprisingly, I could understand why I came to dream of those topics. What is disturbing was really the suicide part and my subconscious.

In my dream, I wasn't the one who committed suicide. Instead, it was someone I knew but was not remotely close to, yet I indirectly cause her to leap off the window of my house.
I watched with my own eyes the way she made a little short sprint and jumped off the window. It was a very big and low window and she really didn't have problems jumping out. It wasn't even climbing off the ledge, she literally jumped off.
Her last words rang over and over in my head during the dream and even when I awoke.
"I wish you (all) have a good life"
And it was simply that.

When she leapt off the window I was shocked agape. I remember rushing to look below and see the body in one bloody mess, the head smashed like a watermelon would when you drop it off from high ground.
As much as I was shaken, in that dream I was clearly impressed, which is the most disturbing part..
For she was brave enough to do it.
And in that dream, I wish I had the strength too.

The dream carried on thereafter with all the funeral and stuff.

When I woke, I freaked out.
Did I really admire her strength that much?

"I wish you have a good life."

This is the first time I wish I'd stop having suicidal thoughts.
Because this is freaking me out too much.

I attribute this nightmare to the tales told by Killer D.
Talk talk talk talk talk.
Ghosts and the paranormal freak me out, but he unrelentless fed me such tales at bed time. How not to have weird dreams?
Either that or it was the very long road trip we made around Singapore at night. So thanks to him, I've finally seen for myself firsthand how nice Villa Bali (or is it Bali villa) is, and saw what the Ba chor mee at Bedok block 85 looks like. (and nope, I didn't taste it, because he very kindly reminded me of that rubber float I have around my waist).
THANKS HOR.

Anyway, I was KIDDING about the talk talk talk part la.
It annoys me, when I am too freaking tired to think of quick retorts, and there you were talking talking and talking.
--

Oh man.
Is tomorrow really Monday?