Strange dream

Some dreams are meant to be beautiful, making one doesn't want to have it ended. But mine was vivid, traumatizing, and ugly. Not everyday, but yesterday's.

It's weird how it began; it's true that nobody ever knows how a dream begins; or how you actually realize you're there. Something like in the Inception. Interestingly enough, I've tried experimenting on various aspects of dreams, to see if I could tell or realize the split second where my mind starts entering the dream world.
Failed.

And so it began with something like this. Filled with hatred and revenge. Fraud says that dream is the product of our unconscious mind. I believe it is; because any minor stuff we observe throughout the day will somehow appear big and major in the dream. And so the hatred feeling was one of them. Lugubriously it was quite a long dream, lasted the whole night. So it's agonizing to dwell into hatred for more than 8 hours. That's many cells to kill. I wonder if that's the reason why I woke up feeling so weak; millions of cells have died.

It started off with me quarelling with someone dear. Then I went to a flat to kill someone. Because that someone knew the conspiracy that was going on; and in my normal self I wouldn't kill out of this. It's crazy; but I did in my dream. The killing part was torturous, with the usual kind of scene one can imagine. Blood spilled out like crazy; the yelling; the stabbings; anger mixing with hatred yet feeling totally sorry for the victim. It went off so fast; and in within seconds the moment was gone. Quiet. And I became a criminal of murder.

So that feeling of guilt stayed on for the entire dream because I had to face innocent people, and blending in their lives carrying this 'crime' in me, totally objurgatory. A fake laughter to conceal the obvious guilt; a firm handshake to tighten the shaky fear; a longer stare to avoid looking away in tears; and moving away from someone dear to avoid being hurt again.

And suddenly my deceased friend spoke to me as though she's never dead. My high school friend; who died in automobile accident many years ago, appeared in my dream, and speaking to me on a phone. I've never seen her since she died in 2002, because she appeared in my dream to bid goodbye. This time; she came to console me. Bringing me out from the agonizing fear which nobody knew, but she did. Maybe that when we're both in the spiritual realm, spiritual beings are more sensitive towards inner self. She invited me over to a school play organized by her father. I said I couldn't; I did not tell her why. The truth was I tried hiding from the crime; and seeing the innocence in their eyes made me wanted to kill myself. In depression. Yes, I was very lugubrious throughout the whole dream. And so I turned the act of camouflaging with her into a disport. It hit her instantly that I was lying; I'd get caught by cops in the theater. Maybe faces of me being "WANTED" are already displayed in the public. I didn't know what took place in town; because I was hiding in my own place, hybernating in fear of being caught. Alone.

Two paragraphs long; every line took half an hour to play in the dream. To cut the whole thing short: I met up with my someone dear back in his house; embracing each other in realization that it's not my fault for the whole thing to happen. Not my fault?? But I've just killed someone. No. Not my fault.

Now that's weird.

Because in the end the victim was sent for a post-mortem. And they found out that the cause of death wasn't homicide; but it's caused by a poisonous cut from a piece of paper which she used while self defending. Makes sense? No.

Because dreams never make sense most of the time. At least to me. I never understood the message of the entire dream. Too many mixed emotions in it. It's the jumble feelings of my day turned into fantasies. I woke up; still feeling the ever fresh sheet I was sleeping on..feeling one side of my face soaked with saliva, and my hair smelling the same. Despite the foul smell, I smiled. Glad that it's over. Glad that it's just a dream.

Now then, a question popped:

How sure are we that now, at this moment, we're in reality and not dreaming? Isn't dreaming seems so realistic all the time?