Junior's Dream

I had a crazy dream during my Junior Year of high school where I was cutting my left hand, with a giant steak knife. I started with my fingers tips and worked my way up to my wrist, cutting the hand into half-inch slivers. I then picked up the cutting board--fingers, nails, class ring and all, and began scraping them into a wok. I nonchalantly watched the the food, er--I mean fingers sizzle in the peanut oil as they hit the pan. The aroma was alluring and captivating. My eyes focused on the red meat as it became engrossed in heat, oil and my undivided attention. I just stared and stared and stared.

I was riding the kind of bicycle a 1940s Dublin mailman might of used when delivering his mail, down a dirt path. To my right, left, and above my head were incestuous trees that kept me enclosed, so that I could only head toward a bright white northern light. The path I was riding my bicycle down could barley fit my handlebars, or my head, and I was pedaling so vigorously that my velocity was greater than that of a 1990s Dublin mailman, eating a cliff bar while pedaling at top speed towards the nearest pub. I kept pedaling and pedaling towards the light to grow closer, but it was to no avail. I didn't get closer and nor did the light grow farther, instead the bike was stationary, and the roof and wall made of entangled trees moved, giving the illusion of movement. A tree branch hit me in my face.

As I was dreaming these dreams, I felt as if I was able to view the dream from afar, as well as in the first person. At the same time I was able to see myself sleep in my bed. It was like I was practicing some sort of mediation. Vipassana?