Nightmares about teeth with death conjecture

Nightmares about teeth was a small photocopied booklet - or what would now be referred to as a zine - I produced in 2006 after first moving to Manchester.  The title comes from me having recurring nightmares about teeth - so a simple title and a very common anxiety dream - though mine were very varied, not just teeth dropping out but teeth regrowing, teeth melting, pulling out endless piles of pulverised, bleeding and shattered bone, teeth turning into metal, teeth teleporting away and then back again - lots of staring into mirrors and finding out they are back before they vanish again - other variations - the background setting was often some kind of old disused building refurbished by a futuristic cabal.  People walking around stone circular cells scraping their hands against walls until they'd worn away everything before the shoulder - whilst I'm in the corner with a face of metal.  My responses during these dreams was either shock or complete and total complacency.

 This book also had networking and dating potentialities.  I'd hand it to other creative types, leave it lying around on buses and cafes and quite frequently handed it to interesting looking and pretty women with understanding eyes.  Being very shy and nervous as a human being and attempting to make my waking reality a little more likeable than my sleeping one, I tried to somehow throw a little bit of my internal world at passers by - I didn't have very much opportunity to observe their reactions as I usually exited the scene at super speed. Over time my sense of self worth and identity has grown from this skulking covert into the loud mouth I am today.  I don't have those dreams about teeth anymore either - and I'm generally in a position in my dream world where I usually end up outwitting everyone I come across - brain monsters aren't quite as scary anymore.

Have I, therefore, accepted that gradual decay is inevitable?  Death is perhaps not the big event we think it is.  Not essentially the end.  If you die and then you become nothing (as in void).  Do you then have to be something  to have a concept of nothing in order to become nothing and to be nowhere.  So if your are something perceiving nothing then your still something.  Imagination slowly forming shapes, places and ideas - becoming tighter and simpler before getting even more complicated  with an expanding awareness going into your own little infinity with it's own population.  Theoretically we could all be in the imagination of an already dead being.  When you look into your own eyes in the mirror are you staring into the confused circling remains of "God"?

The universe apparently began approximately 15 billion years ago because of some huge chemical reaction.  The most solid and touchable fact is that we are somewhere and this is all something - and going on all the time within our thought processes is endless conjecture.  Chemicals bottled in skin sacks, absorbing and expelling resources and ideas until our bodies fall apart into dust, grit and cloth.  The electrical charge in our brains either dies out or carries on into somewhere else - I don't believe in an afterlife as such but I say that it's fairly logical to theorise that this electrical charge of drifting and dissipating consciousness is capable of creating a small self involved bubble universe based on memory, dream, neurosis and all the other remaining feelings.  There's a very good chance that if this is true then we are all recurring endlessy from one universe into another and each time we copy ourselves we are like simulacra and becoming less and less true to ourselves - and the world around us becomes more and more distorted and full of error in every death, like an image being photocopied over and over again losing it's sharpness.  Life isn't moving in a figure eight of infinity - it's more like a spiral going downwards and downwards to a centre which leads nowhere except to a badly drawn blurry mark that's burning smokily into forever.  Our mind dissipating with every regurgitation into a body and life less and less suitable.

Eternal return of many kinds does seem to recur throughout many spiritualities, philosophies and sciences.  Somehow when I walk through a city or town on a busy day I can feel the concentricity of life pulling me down some whirlpool of bleak everything - I've concluded that my only way out is to think and feel positively as much as possible, then my electrical charge may actually come up with somewhere ten millions times better... this universe here is like being stuck in the head of some mental patient - who is bleating tongueless through every wall, ceiling and floor.