The Dreams You Die In

I’m not sure if it’s stress related, but I keep having dreams where I die a violent and painful death. I know it might sound like I’m kidding, but it has happened at least 5 times in the last month. And before that, I don’t think it ever happened to this graphic and vivid extent.

If you’re not a fan of dark, morbid and graphic stories… you might want to just stop right here and go back to whatever you’re supposed to be doing right now. Otherwise… I’m about to show my true colors, enjoy.


I was coming back from a field trip with various people from my life. We’re on an enormous school bus. When I say various people from my life, I mean a truly odd assortment. The dude who stood behind me in line at Davy Wayne’s and is now randomly on my soccer team, my mother, nondescript people from BU, Chris Farley… yeah I don’t know.

Everyone is having a good time, some people even suggest a game of bus truth or dare. Nothing sounds more appealing to me than playing truth or dare with my mom. Truly sounds like something we’d both not hate at all. Anyway, we’re driving in Minnesota in the winter.

We get to a certain point in our drive and there is an enormous soccer goal obstructing the entire road. Rather than stopping the bus and seeing if someone can move it, the bus driver decided to go off-roading on the snowy hill next to the road. This happened to be the same snowy hill from my elementary school growing up.

I quickly realized this was a bad idea and tried to vacate the bus. I somehow got outside the bus and was running alongside just as it struggled through the snow and tipped over on its side. Right on top of me. I was hoping for a surge of adrenaline or something where I could lift the bus, but unfortunately this situation played out pretty realistically.

I laid face down in the snow as the bus slowly crushed me to death. I laid helplessly, hearing the screams of the other passengers. The air deflated from my lungs and my entire body caved in, liquids of all sorts oozed from my body. I heard the sound of that. The last thing I remembered before startling awake next to a beautifully sleeping Talya.

Tipped Bus


I actually fared a lot better in this one than in the bus accident. I became an icon of the apocalypse. Talya, Alyssa and I were recently talking about how we’re all going to die in the massive Los Angeles earthquake as soon as it happens. Good chat, ladies. I dreamed about it.

I don’t even remember how it started. I just remember being in the midst of chaos and wind and objects flying around. For some reason people looked to me for guidance? I don’t know why… I had the whole Mad Max mechanical arm girl vibe though. I tore up my clothes and was ready to fight the undead. I don’t think I looked Charlize Theron sexy though, I looked more like a dirty mechanic girl with the weird mole on her face who you’d have to put a bag over the head of to have intercourse with. You know? Not saying that’s how I look now, but in this dream there was definitely something more rugged and masculine about me. Maybe excess arm hair? Not sure.

Things didn’t stay like the movies though. Pretty soon entire buildings were collapsing. And enormous pieces of debris took people out. Just as I was rallying the troops to push seaward, an enormous piece of debris whacked into me and knocked the wind out of me. My supporters gathered around me like I was some sort of Khalesi and I told them to press onward without me. I knew I wouldn’t make it.

My ribs were crushed and one of them pierced my heart so my heart just slowly leaked all over the rest of my organs until it couldn’t beat anymore. My supporters carried me to a shitty lean-to shelter and stayed with me until the very end. They probably died shortly after I did. Idiots.



I literally burned alive. For whatever reason, someone felt that they needed to pour gasoline over my entire body then light a match and toss it at me. Of course I burst into flames. You know… Just burning alive not really knowing why you’re getting burnt alive? It’s fun. My flesh melted away and I swear I woke up feeling itchy as hell. The craziest thing about fake burning alive is that you’re super aware of it and it goes on for a while. I imagine if you burn alive in real life you go into shock and die pretty fast. But for me, I was like a flaming human being for a good half hour. I picture my flaming self as the red Morphix from Dark Rift 64… (If anyone besides my brothers gets that reference I will marry them. Not kidding, you can send me a message on Facebook or something and we can work out wedding arrangements.)

I think eventually my entire house/apartment set fire and I just laid down and watched all of my possessions burn away. I think the cat managed to escape because, you know, cats are always lookin out for number 1. Guaranteed my asshole cat would run out of the building and alert no one that I was burning alive. He’d just live on the streets without a care in the world. Dickhead would be happier as a street cat.

Satan is coming at me from down below warning me of the undead life ahead of me. I am absolutely going to hell kids. If there was not a sign before, the fact that someone set me ablaze for no reason in my dream. I’ll take that as a hint. Send me help. Send the Herbalife people to save my soul.


(Unfortunately this was the only picture of Morphix I could find…)

I don’t know what exactly this all says about the current status of my life. I think my instability is sexy. Not having a home for nearly a month? Adorable. Almost taking a job I found on Craigslist that barely paid minimum wage? Sexy. Telling people that I’m an aspiring writer and comedian while unemployed? Seductive.

Periods of instability show you how strong you can be. I know that’s cheesed as fuck, and I know I admit to my cliches a lot and they’re almost becoming a cliche in themselves. I’m being serious though. The start of 2016 has been pretty hellish, but also pretty wonderful in a lot of ways. I struggled for a while with how to close this post, I don’t want to say too much but I also don’t want to shrug off the fact that my life has been in turmoil.

I’ll leave you with this: I went to the grocery store last night to buy ingredients to make something for dinner. I left with a carton of eggs, a package of bacon and a bottle of Smirnoff.






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