This very well may be me, on the top, in one of my brief earlier lives. I say "brief" because I don't think I lived into old age in any of the others. This may be the first time for that.
Which is why everything now is such a surprise.
Well here I am, on the bottom, at the very start of this time around. I recall so well how so much seemed familiar. I was so sure I'd seen certain things before. This I suppose because in the early 1950's so much of 19th century even traces of 18th century New York was still apparent.
Life after life.
This can't be proven scientifically. It's all so subjective. I hope it stays that way. We need the mysterious. Things that are not quite there yet there.
Like touching an Angel's wings.
It's said that they are just this side of solid. Like running your fingers through warm air. There, but not quite.
As it should be.
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