In my dream, I was attached to a crimson razor blade, I had used it to commit suicide in order to get into purgatory to hang out with my relatives and friends. Each time, I had miraculously resurrected my remains from the dead by running away from the light in the tunnel. I had also worked with my dear sharp friend to relieve the anger and fear. I must admit, it was very easy to use, a little malicious bastard knew how to kill the pain instantly through breaking the surface of skin tissue, going straight to the core of a problem.
What happened to the blood, it must have spurted all over the place? ‘No’, the manipulative moron replied- ‘Your blood was drained off to avoid any unnecessary mess in my decaying shed. You have become an obedient creature who is going to live under my conditions….’
I don’t know, I start to panic,
What to do?
What to do? Mum, help me?
I wake up drenched in sweat. Am I afraid of mental pain which never goes away, solitude, or eternal unhappiness?
I pledge to flout convention, reject tradition, and dwell in my own world.
anya786 
I approach dreams with a Jungian eye, in which we all have our own specific dream-vocabulary, and in which imagery is specific to the dreamer. But, in a more universal sense, death is often a strong signifier of change, and blood of life. Our dreams can become more and more dramatic if our subconscious feels it’s being ignored. Robert A. Johnson wrote a great book on dream analysis called “Inner Work”, if you are interested in plumbing your dreams’ meanings. Please dismiss me if I seem wordy and obnoxious, or know-it-all-ish — not my intention! Wishing you well, regardless! 🙂
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