I died in my dream this morning. Plane crash over water. I was sitting on the right side of the plane, behind the wing. The plane banked and kept rolling. I was almost sure it was doing a barrel roll…because this is my dream, I can make it do a barrel roll…right? I can make it….nope…we fell towards the water at great speed.

I closed my eyes and waited…waited and waited for the crash. Those imaginary moments took an eternity. We hit.

As the plane broke apart and sank underwater, I remember that the stewardess said the cushion also acts as a floatation device. So, I grabbed the big easy chair flotation devise. It almost looked like a full cushion cushion. I helped my friend with his to. We are on the surface of the water, floating, waiting for rescue.

I don’t know when I realized I was dead, but I do remember becoming very angry and doing that whole ghost thing, knocking stuff over, trashing the place, where ever that place was, it wasn’t in the water anymore. Another ghost was trying to calm me down; I’m guessing my friend who died with me, saying something about that they will find out. I didn’t care; I was a ghost on a rampage, disagreeing with circumstance.

Now, I am at work, writing this, tying to remember all the details. My mind seems a little hazy, half stuck in a dream state.

If you die in your dreams, you do not die.

M