The dreams in which I’m dying…

People say you never die in your dreams. For over 34 years I believed it. I had never died in my dreams. I just did.

It all started, I guess, about two months ago, when I got stung by a scorpion. Little vicious animals. Carnivores. Not beautiful at all. The one that stung me was the bad kind of scorpion; the one that causes deads. But I wasn’t worried at all. I went on watering the garden. Then I looked it up online, called 911, ate some garlic as a home remedy, and finally…worried a little.

I stopped to think what would happen in case -just in case- I died. And I felt happy, calm, at ease… so happy! So calm! Such at ease… AT PEACE. It felt so good. I felt so good for a couple of seconds. That’s the beginning,I think.

A couple of weeks ago, I was running away from a shooting in an ancient basilica-like building. Probably a bullet hit me and I took off, crossing the afternoon skies, level after level of clouds, filled with such detachment from the world… until I landed on a single size bed and a demon tried to suck me into it. After a little struggle, I woke up in my room, next to my lovely wife.

Just a couple days ago I was cruising along the universe. I was flying against a starry background. It was all peace and quiet. A few moments passed by until I realized I couldn’t die just yet. I want to be here when my pregnant wife gives birth to our first born son. I opened my eyes and restarted my heart. Was that right? I will never know what part was only a dream.

And there were two more experiences like these. But I had to share those two. Anyway. I’m not afraid of dying anymore. I just don’t think it’s time yet. That’s why I’m taking care of myself and my family.

Take good care you too. Ok?