I step outside for a smoke and hear a collective psychic scream all around my neighborhood.
I wonder why all of us are here. Is it just our bad choices, or just bad luck? There aren't any "bad" people living around here. Just a bunch of "trailer trash." People who have given up or were never cut a break in life.
Why are we here?
Why did those people die on that bridge in Missouri?
My son's best friend had a dream the night before the bridge collapsed. He dreamed of an old, rickety wooden bridge that collapsed into the Mississippi river and cars fell in. Many people were killed.
The bridge that collapsed had structural damage. He must have been perceiving that.
I astral projected while being worked on at the chiropractor's office today. Kind of freaked me out. I slammed back into my body and almost had a panic attack.
Strange days indeed.
Amazing song! Love the Doors!
Read the story of the Jim Morrison spirit photo.