Where do
your dreams go when you die?
I have never been one to fear death. I’ve led a life of
hardships and pain, both physical and emotional. My life has not been all bad
but my worst experiences could be written and sold as horror stories. When
nightmares consume your childhood what is so fearsome about death? Nothing.
Death scares the young and the healthy. People have their reasons why they want
to live but the real reason is primitive survival. The human brain in all of
its complexity still operates from basic desires. A human wants to live so that
it can reproduce and make more humans. All species need this urge to survive.
Growing up sick and in pain alters your brain. Its natures way of saying “You wont
reproduce so death is ok. You are allowed to die” This might sound cruel but
anyone who has seen a nature documentary will know its true. Nature effects
humans just the same as it effects animals.
I am now
afraid to die and strive to live. One day I found a light in the darkness. It
was a boundless imagination that led me to my love of fantasy. I played in the
fictional worlds of others. Humans created video games and books, they used
their brains for something more than basic desires. They created these worlds
and I was lost and entranced. In these worlds the hero won,
the darkness could be fought and if you believe hard enough nothing can stop
you. Memories of life funneled through creative process and turned into
dreams. The Dreams written down and turned into fiction and the fiction sold
and consumed. Once consumed the fiction is released back into dreams and
stimulates the mind. The mind then begins to create its own dreams and its own
fiction. What if that tree was sixty feet tall and contained an entire village
of elves? Its not sixty feet tall and only birds live in it, but what if? What
if the world was a better and more magical place? What if people got along?
What if trying your best actually made a difference? The thoughts in your brain
turn and focus. Your experiences color both your fantasy and reality. How you
perceive people depends on how you were raised just like if I told you to
imagine a drugtor you might think of something totally different than someone
else. Others may just realize Drugtor is a word I just made up and not bother
imagining anything.
So where DO
dreams go when you die? And why does my ability to imagine a dragtor make me
want to live?
Well I
honestly do not know where dreams go and that is why I fear death. In my head I
have my memories, story ideas, characters, dreams, goals and a whole library of
random animal trivia. Its precious to me, I can recall times that I spent with
my friends or family, moments long since passed that my brain keeps preserved
for as long as I live. Happy moments and memories that make me smile to this
day. I can create fictional worlds and characters in a day, I can imagine those
places and if I close my eyes I can see every single place I have ever written
about. I fear death because when a person dies, what happens to those precious
memories and all of the stories they haven’t written yet? My fear is that they
simply go away forever.
Great
authors through the ages wrote stories that are still read and enjoyed hundreds
of years later, but what happened to the stories they didn’t write? All of the
possible life they could have breathed into the world is now gone. All that
remains is their stories, echoes of a mind that could create anything out of
nothing.
I do not
fear not existing, not breeding, not being able to eat hamburgers, I fear not
being able to tell stories.
So what if
I had to answer to my own question? What if I just wrote a happy ending? What
if?
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