I Died Last Night

Dear Mr. Big Guy in the Sky,

So I had this dream last night, and I wanted to see if you could shed some light on it for me.

In this dream I'm writing for a commercial treatment, while simultaneously doing all this administrative stuff.  As you know, Mr. Big Guy in the Sky, this is what I've been doing for monetary gain lately, and I trust you also know, I'm not exactly the happiest camper with this current situation.  Regardless of my professional "beefs" right now, I'm actually kind of the happiest, most content I've been in a while.  It's just the job hump I'm trying to get over now.

Anyway, in this dream I'm on the job, and while on the job I'm asked by my boss to run an errand.  So I get in my car and start tooling around town on random errand X.  Of course while I'm in the car, I somehow get run off the road and go off a cliff.

I die.  Basically, I could tell I was dead because as soon as I hit the ground, I was immediately transported to a weird colored, "gray" reality – I call it a "gray" reality because it was gray in color.  Yeah.

So in this reality I can just tell I'm dead.  I feel nothing but anxiety and it all has that weird otherworldly quality that Frodo goes into when he puts on the Ring in Lord of the Rings.  I can still see my loved ones, my friends, everything having to do with my life, but I'm unable to intervene or do anything about what's going on in actual reality.  I get frustrated, but can't do anything about it.  So I just kind of wait around, start to seethe, then make some sort of mental declaration that I rather be in some sort of blank, alternative universe as opposed to watching everything that I once held dear evolve without me.  Soon after I make this declaration, I'm suddenly beamed back into my body...

I wake up and there I am, lying naked on the beach in Santa Monica at dawn.  My car is nowhere to be found.  I stand up and look around – no one's there, and I can't really tell if I'm dead or alive.

Then I'm back in my clothes and I'm with my parents.  They're asking me how I'm doing – if I'm happy with life right now, when I'm going to find a spouse, if I need any money – the usual parental inquisition.  I tell them "I think I'm okay."  They ask why I'm not sure, and I tell them I'm pretty sure I just died.  They say that this is ridiculous, so I don't even bother trying to articulate.

From here I get in a series of exchanges with my friends and other professional acquaintances, and all the while, something convinces me that my mortality is now super temporary – that I'm going to be transported back to the gray reality any second.  I feel like you, Mr. Big Guy in the Sky, were the one that made me think this in the dream – that we may have had some sort of bizarro dialogue setting in stone how temporary my livelihood would be for the second go around.

By the by, this wasn't the case.  I lived life through to old age, but still convinced all the while that I was going to be snatched from my body again – totally paranoid and aloof.  Then at the end, I'm on my death bed, and you show up, Mr. Big Guy.  You say something to the effect of, "You moron.  You were supposed to life without fear.  You already died, so what the F?"

Then I woke up to the sound of my neighbor peeling out of their driveway.

I looked up the possible significance of this dream, because I do things like that.  Basically, according to the land of dream interpretation, I'm going through a positive transitional period of self-discovery.  Cool, right?

I guess I just want to know, Mr. Big Guy, that I'm going to make the right decision today – to mentally check out of this scenario I hate and nip what I'm great at in the butt.  I'm good at writing these Big-Guy-forsaken treatments – I'm not great at it.  But I'm fucking awesome at this whole producing thing, whether I like it or not.  And I'm coming to realize that yes, I do like it.  I like what I'm good at.  In terms of writing, I'm great at writing this blog, writing scripts that are my original ideas.  I'm only good at articulating other peoples' ideas – just trying to be real.

On Friday I was told from a very unsuspecting person that I should just live without any fear whatsoever.  That I'm really great at almost everything I really try to kick ass at.  So I should just fucking take a leap.

So here's to doing that.  Here's to dying, coming back, and living like a supernatural entity.  Am I off base with that, Mr. Big Guy in the Sky?

Your Favorite Leo,

Leroy