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Passionless Bliss

A man standing alone outside an empty aircraft hangar

Art is Courtesy of an Amazing Artist, My Friend Shellie Summers!


I am not afraid of death because death is invisible." If I can't see where it is going or witness what it is doing, is it doing anything at all?


For my first post, I would like to start with the dream that inspired me to start writing in the first place. This dream took place on July 1st, 2020; I hope you find it interesting. I suddenly became aware of my surroundings during a dream. It was as if I had woken up from an episode of sleepwalking and found myself seated in the back of something like a white fleet finch plane.


Military jets and alien machines were all around us, fighting to control the skies; despite their best efforts, humanity was losing. The battle was fierce, and hope for survival faded with every passing second.


Flying was so dangerous that I bailed from the plane and parachuted toward the ground in search of somewhere away from all the action. It wasn’t a parachute I was using but a glider of some kind. I can’t remember what it looked like, but it wasn’t a standard parachute. After landing and ditching the glider, I found myself walking through an airfield, right down the middle of its runway. As I walked through the empty lot, I began to think to myself, "I am not afraid of death because death is invisible."


If I can't see where it is going or witness what it is doing, is it doing anything at all? But as I began to pass by empty buildings on either side of the lot, I thought to myself, "However, I am afraid of empty buildings because they confirm the reality of death's existence."


The Dream ends here, and it caused me to ponder this: "I feel as though I am overcome with a form of ignorance that answers the question; if a tree falls in a forest and not a soul is around to hear it, then did it happen at all. My quiet response being, I don't care." 


But why? On May 25, 2020, a man named George Floyd was killed. I refused to consider that ethnicity may have had a role to play in his death, even though I refused to look at any information about the case that was being made public. I had then concluded that whatever happened, ethnicity was not a variable.


How could it be if my skin is brown and my experience is different? Without looking at the facts, this could very well have been true, right? If it were true, how could I be sure? I suppose this was a dilemma, a Schrodinger's cat kind of observation of the social dynamics between ethnic groups in America. In response to this experience, I set aside time to watch the case as it continued to unfold instead of hiding from it. The lesson here: I learned how easy it is to be opinionated about things I don’t know from this dream.


My first post, and I hope you find it interesting. Please feel free to resume your apocalypse.




Here are a few other dreams circulated around the topic of race.



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