I Love Dreaming about the Apocalypse

It’s a pretty consistent theme throughout my life that I dream of end-times, or times where people are gone, or all dead, and the cities are either destroyed or overrun. Every time I wake from one, I feel calmed, relaxed, invigorated. I don’t think these dreams are actually about the destruction of civilization, but moreso the clearing-out of complicated thought from my head. It’s always beautiful. It’s always somehow terrifying. It’s always calming, even in the midst of zombie dreams or natural disaster dreams or Gethsemane-esque dreams.

Usually I dream of pre-apocalypse, where a cloud isn’t a cloud but a wave of something. Air, debris, water, what-have-you, or I see the seven seals of Revelation open and stare at the awe-inspiring Cthulhu-type creatures devouring the world like a worm to the apple. Usually I stare at people not acting like people, and I try to escape, or survive. Once I even dreamed I found the edge of the world, and looked down a sheer cliff face stretching several miles down, overlooking a wholly barren landscape. I hadn’t known it was there, so I hand to grab a tree limb to keep from sliding off the side, and a man with black arrows shot at me until he knocked me off.

And I remember the time where I walked a barren landscape and found a massive spider-god perched atop a smokestack the size of a nuclear power plant’s exhaust tube. And I used a single arrow to send it to its death.

With every new dream, the old ones come and say hello. They wrap around me and show me the metamorphosis of whatever part of my mind that’s in charge of newness, rebirth, exultation of nature, and the need for survival. So I’m not far off when I say, I hope I live to see the end of days.

Aspen was in it. She had a shotgun. She fired it. Otherwise all I remember is we walked the streets of a barren city–loosely resembling St. Louis–and reminisced at all the things that had gone while keeping lookout for all the things that had become. Yum. And she was hot. And I liked it a lot.