I had a very strange and disturbing dream last night. I dreamed that I died in a plane crash. That was just the beginning of the slumbered adventure. I saw Atropos disguised as the pilot. He gave the signal with his hand as I watched through the cockpit window. It all happened so fast.
I saw the wreckage afterwards. The pile up of cars, the ambulances, the blood, people screaming in horror and running amok. I wandered slowly and unnoticed through the crowd. I had a book that I had lost in the wreckage, and although I misplaced the reason for its importance, I knew that I needed to find it.
It was another passenger who informed me that we were dead, but I didn’t want to listen. I was still here, among the living dead, for a purpose. I just needed to find it. I knew the answer would be written in the lost book.
I found the book, still wrapped in its brown paper and twine bow, lying unscathed on the sidewalk. After ripping off its sheath, I was surprised to find that each and every page was… blank.
I awoke with a feeling of overwhelming emptiness, no direction, and no where to go.
Blank Pages. What does it mean?! Am I having an inner conflict about Fate vs. Free Will?
