"...at times I almost dream I, too, have spent a life the sages' way, And tread once more familiar paths. Perchance I perished in an arrogant self-reliance ages ago; and in that act, a prayer..For one more chance went up so earnest, so Instinct with better light let in by death,That life was blotted out-not so completely, but scattered wrecks enough of it remain. Dim memories, as now, when once more seems the goal in sight again..."-Robert Browning, Paracelsus
Past lives..a common belief among many. I think if this belief is true it exists in a complex way, that everyone you know and love is connected to you in every life in one way or another. What may be your mother may come back as your sister, or another member of your family..and if they are taken away from you in one life, they will be taken away from us in another lifetime. Lovers are meant to be lovers, friends meant to be friends, and family with family. Perhaps this happens for a reason, a strong bond of emotions and love in the threshold of life and death...gone on ever since the beginning of time. I too, have had unexplainable dreams of a life I cannot remember living.
But in this lifetime we work in the dark. We do what we can to battle whatever it may be that would otherwise destroy us. If a mans character is his fate then this fight is not a choice, but a calling...yet sometimes the weight of this burden causes us to faulter, breaching the fortress of our fragile minds allowing the monstors and the dark of the world outside to crawl within, implanting the seeds and making the nests of horror and shock. Then we are left alone Staring into the abyss into the laughing face of madness.
I believe that to believe in past lives, you must believe in this predestiny. Is it all layed out for us? some blueprint of life, with a crooked path of twists and turns to follow? or do we honestly create our own paths, taking a hatchet and clearing out the branches along the way? all paths have their branches though, but when you create your own there will be not only branches, but logs and stones, under some there will be snakes and scorpions, venomous bugs, and spiders....We are but visitors on this rock we call home, hurtling through space at sixty-six thousand miles an hour, tied to a burning sphere by an invisible force in an unfathomable universe. Most of us humans take this for granted, while refusing to believe these forces have any more effect on us than chicken noodle soup.
M.Man
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