nice guy, nasty dreams

confessions of a reluctant dreamland killer

Here are some dark thoughts for the longest night of the year.

I know a guy who wakes up every morning, stiff, shaking wet with sweat. He has the same dream every night:

There is a dead body in my backyard. I don't know how it got there. What I do know is this: I did it. I killed them.

This dream follows him all day. He can't shake this feeling.

It’s not guilt. I don’t care that I’ve killed them. I don’t care that their dead. I don’t have any moral considerations here. I just know that I’m going to be in trouble and I can’t let anyone find out.

Some of these days, he tries to be extra nice to make up for it.

When they catch me, maybe they’ll go easy on me if they think I’m a nice guy.

Eventually though the haunting sound of the rotting corpse and the rattling bones becomes too much for him.

I act out. Sure it’s not murder per se. But most of my life I want to revolt in violent transgressions against whatever society calls normal or demands in the name of ‘getting along’.

Violent transgr…