I’ve been dreaming about zombies.
It sounds really silly that say that out loud, or to type it and share it with you. But it’s the truth. I’ve been having these bizarre dreams that I remember vaguely in the morning, and that are all about… well, zombies.
Before you laugh yourself onto the floor, or think I’m more demented that I actually am, I should clarify that I know the dreams are not about zombies, even if they are in there. I’ve been watching every kind of horror flick that I can get my hands on, especially those featuring the undead, and I’ve never suffered a nightmare from any of them. It would be very odd to start now.
And these aren’t nightmares. At least I don’t think of them as typical nightmares. I wake up unsettled, but not scared.
In the dreams my life is destroyed. The things that I built up are gone. My friends and family are all… just not there. The job that drives me nuts most of the time is irrelevant. The lifestyle that I enjoy is impossible. The things that make me happy are a thing of the past.
In my dreams, the things that I have built and created are meaningless or destroyed or just gone.
I’ve been dreaming of zombies. I’ve been dreaming about the end of the life I’ve created.
Am I really dreaming about fear?