So, last night I not only had a dream that I remembered in the morning, but I had a dream that was so real and so disturbing I was in tears when I woke up. I haven’t experienced that in a LONG TIME, and it was very bizarre to go through that rapid loss of sense of the reality of it all as I regained proper consciousness. I wish I’d written it down this morning, it would have been much more detailed I’m sure. All I remember is it being night, and I was going for an interview at some posh hotel, and it was raining outside, and there were three of us, myself included, going for the position. All of us were dressed very smartly, in black, and then I found out the position was for a beer vendor. And I decided to run away into the storm instead. I don’t remember what happened next, but the most memorable part of my dream was the latter part. I’m not sure of the tie between the two, or if they really were two separate dreams, minutes or hours apart, but the second was horribly disturbing. I somehow came to the decision that I had to die, I had to give myself up for something, and I’d have to a) have my throat cut so I’d suffocate more quickly, and b) have my heart taken out. Not through surgery or anything, just… taken out… I’m not sure how. And my mum had to be the one to do it, I remember that. And I remember there was a time on it, a countdown of sorts, and I was trying to convince my family (and Sajah, my parents’ dog) that I had to do this… and I was going to be laying down on some sort of limestone, open rock type… coffin, almost, when it was being done. I remember getting into it and thinking that I’d spend my last few minutes writing letters. I had to write three, one to my grandma in England, one to my mum and dad saying I loved them and I was sorry, and one to Daniel, because he couldn’t be there. I remember telling him I was going to do it, but he couldn’t be there on the day because he was away doing shows somewhere. And as the lid closed on me and I was about to go through with it, I stopped it all. I couldn’t do it. I had a strong sense of HAVING to go through with it, but panicking and feeling that it was wrong, and running out of time. I said I couldn’t go through with it without saying goodbye to people; I couldn’t leave Dan knowing he’d be away travelling and knowing I’d be dying, and he was out there doing shows. And so I didn’t go through with it; and I remember Sajah being angry at me for not doing it. And then I woke up, crying.