The thing about doing a play about depression, psychosis and suicide is that it brings your coping mechanisms to the fore. Sometimes that coping is outed as a propensity to turn everything and vulgar and ass oriented.
Sometimes it manifests as an interest in stories of past lives.
I used to watch It's a Wonderful Life obsessively as a small child. I abruptly stopped around age 4. I have no memory of doing this. And even watching the movie these days doesn't "ring a bell", as it were. See what I did there?
But, you know, the whole movie was a massive, classic near-death experience.
I had imaginary friends; I think they were named Frank and Jerry or Jerry and Riley. I don't really remember very well. I know that they were there in California and for part of Texas. But they vanished sometime around age 5.
I feel as though I died of drowning in a past life.
I feel as though I was pregnant in a past life.
I feel as though hands and/or feet were amputated somehow in a past life.
I have a friend or two I think I knew in a past life. Maybe my mother. No more than that so far as I know.
People consistently seem afraid of me, or like me a lot. Or both.
I wish I knew more. It's quite difficult to say what with the sheer amount of stimulus one has in a life. Especially in these times.
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