[ WP ] A new drug let 's you live a lifetime in one dream

You see, I'm an addict to Postremethed, the hallucinogenic drug that made it's breakthrough in the underground a couple years ago. It was n't like I was a junkie or anything, the worst thing I had done before PRM was a little weed in high school. I was just hanging out with the wrong crowds and got a tablet slipped in my drink or put in my mouth while I was sleeping. I do n't know, do n't really remember anymore. 
 
 My habit started out small. See, it's not the kind of thing that's pleasant, per se, but it's sure as hell addicting. I was popping one a week back then, usually Saturday before I went to sleep. Nowadays it's a nightly ritual, one right before bed and a glass of water. I ca n't sleep until I've taken it, I nearly clawed my eyes out on a plane ride the other week because I ran out of my travel set. I'm acutely aware that it's ruining my life. My performance review last quarter was on the'really shit' side. I'm on a slippery slope to dying in an alley, but at this point I do n't care. If PRM was n't keeping me up I'd have offed myself by now anyways. 
 
 Like I said, PRM is a hallucinogenic drug, and to say it makes your dreams interesting would be an understatement. Every time I've taken it my dreams have felt like an eternity, and that's because when somebody takes PRM they dream an entire life. Accounts vary, from living until old age to dying around college. Most people usually remember very little, myself included. It's tragic, really. Bits of an entire life, children I never had, a wife I never loved, things I've never done, all fading away with the morning. I imagine it's a little like dying. The most I could gather was that I lived until an old age and led a pretty happy life. The thing is, it felt like it was always the same. Every morning felt eerily familiar, the same faces disappearing from my mind. 
 
 The logical thing for me to do was to try to remember my dreams, of course. I read up on some homeopathic stuff, which I usually do n't trust but I decided that try. Surprisingly it worked. I wish it had n't. Not only was I remembering my dreams, but I was lucid dreaming. I had no control over the dream but I felt like it was me feeling and thinking. Eighty years. I live eighty years every night. It's unbearable agony and sweet sanctuary. The dream starts off boring, because it's just my life. It's literally my exact experiences, up until 23. That's when it gets weird. 
 
 See, 23 is where I go to that party, discover PRM, fall into my depression, the whole shebang. Only, I do n't go to the party in the dream. I stay at home and sleep off my hangover from the night before like a sensible adult. The next morning my friends are mad I bailed. We drift apart. I meet a beautiful girl, Hannah. We have a kid, John, and move into our own house. I move up the corporate ladder, working hard but enjoying moments of it and making enough money to live comfortably. We have another child, a beautiful girl we name Beth. We go through pets, the kids go through school. Beth is a genius, she becomes an engineer and I could n't be prouder. John gets into some trouble with drugs but gets back on his feet around 30 and becomes an employee of the same rehab facility that helped him so much. I retire, as does Hannah. Life is good and I die with very few regrets surrounded by people I love, people who love me. 
 
 Then, I wake up. 
 
 You think you know pain? You think you know despair? Somebody once said that the worst hell they could imagine was showing the person that you became the person that you could have become. I have to agree. Literally the only thing that keeps me from putting a bullet through my head is the knowledge that I'll get to live that life every night, before I have to return to my own. 
 
 Please, do n't do drugs, and if you do then stay the hell away from PRM. It's not worth it. 
 
 

