Author: Ash Ochoa Poetry

I always wonder what goes on in people’s minds when they are dying… like what could they possibly be dreaming about while they’re waiting to die?

I think we all probably like to think that our minds replay our life like a film reel right before we kick the bucket. Colorful scenes showing us our most unforgettable moments, friends, vacations, parties, first kisses, lovers… etc. Our brains faintly playing the soundtrack to our lives in the background, matching the emotion in our heartfelt memories. We romanticize what we hope waits for us in those last moments before the unknown.

But honestly… our last dreams are probably just the same as our normal dreams. Random and meaningless. And knowing that is kind of a bummer because I don’t want to be having the same idiotic dreams right up until I croak. My dreams are regularly full of so much nonsense and random bullshit that I can’t even follow them. They’re like cough syrup dreams without having to drink any actual cough syrup. I don’t want that. That sounds like an awful way to go.

Anyways, as someone who is frequently exposed to those the dying process, I catch myself wondering what’s happening in their head every time. Yet if it came down to it, I don’t think I’d actually want to know. I’d most likely just be disappointed that instead of reliving the most beautiful and significant times of my life… I’m dreaming about heating up hot pockets or some shit.

Alas… it’s just another one of life’s many lucrative secrets that I’m sure to find the answer to eventually. No rush.

-Hal