The night when I died...

Every night, we go to sleep, never knowing what we might wake up to. The silver moon that washes down my face and the liquid air that flows in my hair... none of it can help me in my conjecture about what the next morning would be like, would it be a red sun in a blue sky with white clouds and colorless silhouettes of early-morning prayers rising from the earth to the kingdom of gods, or would I wake up to a sun-less sky on a lifeless earth, or would it even be earth that I wake up on ?

At this point of time, sitting alone on a cold steel-bench, that is stealing the warmth off my body, I am letting my soul go free and wander in the depths and heights of imagination. From here, behind a gray cloud, I can see a psychedelic blend of colors... the colors of envy, pride, anger... enveloping the realm of human life... and I can see the black veil of death closing in... am I dead ?

I am floating now, the nothingness of space engulfing me, devouring me slowly, taking me into its folds, making me feel cold and warm and dark and bright and heavy and light and I dont know what, something that I know but I cant define, something that I do not know but can understand... something that I have never experienced, something that is so familiar... human-nature ?

Well, I guess so, I am inside someone else. Its misty in here, a wide spectrum of multiple colors and thick fog. Through the mist I can discern a silhoutte, sitting upright and looking into something, his hands steady, fingers moving fast. Then things go hazy, there is red and then there is green and then a flash of white and then blue and finally its all black and dark... and I am thrown out with a force enough to shatter mountains to dust.

What was it ?