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This is the first dream I have died in - a strange experience to be sure.
I am in a flat somewhere. It is not obvious where but it
feels like Los Angeles ( I have no idea
why it feels like L.A. ). I open a door and "what the fuck?" there is a field of Opium poppies growing under big industrial lights. I turn to a guy standing next to me and he says "Oh yeah - I'm dealing a bit of Opium."
Some murky unknown shit-hits-the-fan. I am told it would be a good idea to "drive into the sticks."
I am driving some big-mother 4x4 and come to a large crevice in the road. It has two logs that correspond to the width of my wheels so I attempt to drive over the crevice. Halfway across I screw up and the 4x4 slips off the logs and gets jammed. "Oh this is just fucking great" I think and I get out to take a look.
Well I am only right on top of some swanky cafe and looking at some big black guy's Caesar Salad. He is with his girlfriend. There are wood chips falling into the Caesar Salad.
He pulls out a gun and shoots me. I see the bullet all Matrix slow-mo like and it hits my chest.
Everything goes black (no shit - it really does.).
I remember thinking "Hey, being dead ain't so bad."