I am standing in a large coliseum. There are tattered banners blowing in the wind; crimson banners, the colour of the blood that is currently pumping through my heart at a life threatening rate. The bull, full of ancient wisdom and animal grace, snorts out a thick cloud of black smoke that smells of burning embers as he races down upon me like an avalanche.
I turn and run towards the gate at the far end of the coliseum, my only escape. The gate telescopes further and further into the distance like in a Hitchcock movie. Three thousand pounds of eternal raw energy bearing down on my mortal flesh as I sprint for the exit, I roll my ankle and my rusty joints crack and crumble as I nose dive into the dirt.
Now I am alive!
The dust flies as the hooves rumble, a rapidly approaching thunder. The sun goes black as the beast’s shadow swallows me whole and I feel the rip and burn of a gnarly horn as it gores my thigh, shatters the bone and sends me on a slow motion journey through ten feet of spinning ground and sky.
What a ride!
I come crashing down headfirst in the dirt and the faceless crowd lets out a deafening cheer as the tiny pebbles carve out fresh grooves in my stinging flesh.
But I feel good. Euphoric. Anything to take away the ennui of the day to day mundane existence that is ordinary living. I taste the blood that runs from my forehead to the corner of my mouth and I can smell the sweat of the crowd, their adrenaline pumping, just waiting for the life affirming rush that comes from witnessing the death of another.
I raise myself up on two busted but defiant legs and I salute the crowd like some insane toreador. My salute is greeted with another enthusiastic ear splitting cheer as I smile big and wide, a Hollywood movie smile, blood in my teeth and dust in my pores. They know I am mad and they also know it is the only way through.
I call to the bull. . .
His eyes light up fire red and his back swells ferocious and intimidating.
Time stands still. . .
The bull kicks his warning in the dirt with an anvil thud and begins his charge across the infinite coliseum.
In that matchless eternity it takes for the bull to reach me I witness the big bang, the ice age, the dawn of man, the betrayal of Christ, the rise and fall of the Roman Empire, the World Wars and every other tragic, heroic or indifferent moment throughout the entire history of the planet. The whole impossible history in one holographic, seamless montage.
I know I am ready.
I meet the beast’s empty eyes with an intensity only imminent death can conjure and I brace myself for impact.
Wait for it. . .
Immaculate pain. The bull’s horn penetrates my chest and punctures my exhausted heart draining it of all life. I leave my body and observe from above as the cruel sun is distinguished by liquid night and my lifeless husk stains the dirt with its impermanence.
You embark on a journey and you take your licks with a graceful sense of duty. . .until the next violent dream.
As a kid, they said if you die in your dream, you really die.
Hum. I don't die, get pierced or pummeled much, if at all in the dream world. All my nightmares seem to be I can't get from some here to some there (Usually home.). Flooded river, bridge washed out. Lost or no plane ticket. Jeep's gassed and loaded by no idea of the route.