I thought I had a strange enough dream during my afternoon nap, but when I went back to my place and finally slept, I had a stranger dream.
I dreamed that I was back in Malaysia again, doing something mundane at home. Then my mother revealed reluctantly that I died once, in Japan, but they brought me home, and I was alive again.
There were brief flashes of images, like a quick montage. I saw myself collapsing onto the floor somewhere at the streets, and was hauled back from Japan to Malaysia in a white body bag.
I didn't remember how I came back to life. Everyone around me were polite and nice to me. Did they know what happened?
I went through the entire dream feeling incredulous that I had died once and wondering how I died before. I also wondered whether I was to die again. Or just fade away. There were so many things I have yet to do. It was a melancholic feeling.
In the end I decided that "perhaps i will live forever."
Or "perhaps I will just live on, normally, until old age. Or something like that. As if the first death was just a dream."
And then I woke up.
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