It just makes sense.
Back when i was younger I was asked the question; "who observes the observer"
Took me a good year of pondering it before it dawned on me (something ive always known) that i observer my thoughts, and one layer deeper, i observe my emotions. Which i gather is what spawns my thoughts..
So what am i? I can control this hand. I call it MY body.. So i am not it..
That together with doing a ton of research, one small drop in that lake was reading about children talking about past lives.. Awesome shit, and very real.
Then i read the ringing cedars of russia, and everything clicked.
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