Two days have passed and I still can't forget the death I dreamt about; was it really death that made me so persistent and made me hold on to life more, or was it just a metaphor in the dream, telling me to be stronger, in hard times? I don't know. Of course I don't know how it started, but in the middle of the dream I was gun-shot three times in less than a moment of time; the first was straight at my heart, the second at my chest, the third at my chest from the right side a little bit. Thing is, I know that if you are dying in a dream and you don't wake up before you actually lose your last breath, you die in real life, which is a fact that I experienced before. I once was shot at my heart as well and was bleeding on a bathroom floor to death, and then I woke up with the most terrible heart and left arm pain ever. Anyway, I didn't die in the dream, instead I kept walking and walking down the streets, and the best thing in the dream was that I uttered the Shahada even twice while walking. I tried to fix things, do things. I don't really remember dying in the dream (most probably I didn't, since I'm alive now and here), I remember, though, saying the Shahada for the third time before something critical happened. My dreams are generally insignificant and without a meaning, but some dreams are really hard to forget - only because you feel like they tell something, rather than speculate something! Ever since this dream, I don't know, I have one of the weirdest feelings ever; I do wanna die a decent death - and by that I mean martyrdom. But it was great, it was really great dying with bullets and uttering Shahada knowing that I was dying for a purpose. Confession: Death dreams are consuming my sleep so much lately, and especially gunshot dreams, I don't know why. Does this have to do with anything related to the revolution? But I've had those dreams even before that, I remember pretty well. And Does this mean anything about death itself, or it's actually related to life?