the stuff dreams are made of

i don't dream often these days. or perhaps i do, but just don't know it. but when i do dream, and i do semi-wake to remember them, i'm kind of disturbed. about the content.

this morning i woke up with the dream of a question put to me. it went like this..."if you could get away with one (just one) murder in your life, with no consequences either here or in an afterlife, would there be someone that you'd kill?"


to which i was answering... "well, yes. in fact, there is someone i would kill."


and that's disturbing, is it not? because as i was waking up, i was thinking "wow, i am a horrible person, because i would kill this person." and i'd not blink an eye. or feel badly about it. this person truly disgusts me.

but i was disturbed by this. and i had to talk myself around to "of course, i'd never kill someone. no matter how much i hate them." but it took me awhile.

and then i started thinking whether there would be circumstances where i would actually kill someone. perhaps if someone i loved were being threatened. and then i thought, "but i would never own or carry a weapon of any kind, so if i were going to kill someone, i'd have to kill them with whatever was at hand. a brick. a pointy umbrella. or a butter knife or something. so chances are that i'll never kill someone. whew.

what's also kind of disturbing to me is that i'm not sure what in the dream preceeded the question. i'm not sure even who was asking me the question. and it got me wondering, what would have happened if i hadn't of awakened at that point. it also got me thinking, that a person has no control over what goes through their heart or mind while they are sleeping. if they could move, they could do horrible things and not even ever remember it. that's creepy huh? and who are you really? the person you are when you are awake? or the person you are when you are asleep? the person who wouldn't ever kill? or the person who most certainly would?

anyway, this person i was thinking i would kill, better hope i never develop the habit of sleepwalking. because apparently, it's the stuff my dreams are made of.