I was on a mountain top in the alps in connection with something that had to do with "Så mycket bättre" - a Swedish TV-show where music pop-stars collate and cry while eating and drinking - and I was high up on some mountain. E-Type was nearby, I knew this, and he wasn't speaking. I knew I was in a tough place as I was afraid to move, knowing that I could slip of the narrow peaks where I was standing at any moment if I'd step a few millimetres off tangent.

E-Type was disappearing in the distance, and a wind blew past. I somehow knew my time had come, and that X was somewhere in the background, far off, safe. Knowing this calmed me, as the wind got hold of me. I slipped, fell and quickly tried to use my fingernails to claw onto a steep ledge which was all slippery, solid ice. I couldn't catch on, so I fell. I yelled "I love you all, and I love X the most!" and I somehow knew I'd fall 2600 meters, and I thought of all I'd miss, all the accidents and wonders of life that I'd never experience, and the Loss of X, and I woke up, preturbed and distant from myself. X lay beside me, and I could breathe. Ten minutes after that, the alarm went off.