i feel a bit stupid posting this as I’ve never told anyone before.
I am 45 year old male, run a software company and am extremely scientific and pragmatic. There is no such thing as ghosts, telepathy, witchcraft it’s sll nonsense.
However I remember my previous life or, more precisely, my previous death. It sounds nuts but I remember it like a dream, a very vivid dream and have been aware of it for almost ever.
I was executed in the French Revolution, by guillotine. I remember being brought by horse and cart to the square. It was quite ramshackle but the thing that rally sticks out is the terrible smell, the stench. It was a cold and misty day. I was very uncomfortable around the groin and arm pit area. Like I had red raw skin where I had been wearing the same clothes for several days.
The square is in a small town. It wasn’t Paris or anywhere big, a small provincial town. There were a couple of drummers there. I remember the tune they played. Dum, dum, dum dum dum, over and over. I stepped up onto the stage in the centre. It’s wooden and a bit unstable, it does the job but wouldn’t take much to collapse it. As I look at the crowd they look very down on their luck, none are smiling or joking they all look quite sad. I remember looking out at the square. It’s very uncomfortable, not cold but early morning cold to go through you, coupled with the fact I’ve been wearing the same clothes for several days. Not taking them off to sleep as it was to cold.
I remember being in jail before hand. I had to sleep on straw. It was very uncomfortable. I was given water and very stale bread to eat.
I don’t remember much about my life before the jail and execution, but I do remember my clothes are quite fine but very tatty and faded now. I have white tight like leggings on.
When we approach the guillitine we circle around the square. There is a slight jeer but no jubilation or gloating & everyone is quite tense. I then step up and my memory ends.
It seems insane I remember so much of it, the detail. Of everything that sticks out it’s the touch and feel of things I really remember, I would never tell anyone else about it because it makes me question my own sanity.
Oh, and I have a birth mark across the back of my neck, at the bottom. Sideways across. Weird.
I am 45 year old male, run a software company and am extremely scientific and pragmatic. There is no such thing as ghosts, telepathy, witchcraft it’s sll nonsense.
However I remember my previous life or, more precisely, my previous death. It sounds nuts but I remember it like a dream, a very vivid dream and have been aware of it for almost ever.
I was executed in the French Revolution, by guillotine. I remember being brought by horse and cart to the square. It was quite ramshackle but the thing that rally sticks out is the terrible smell, the stench. It was a cold and misty day. I was very uncomfortable around the groin and arm pit area. Like I had red raw skin where I had been wearing the same clothes for several days.
The square is in a small town. It wasn’t Paris or anywhere big, a small provincial town. There were a couple of drummers there. I remember the tune they played. Dum, dum, dum dum dum, over and over. I stepped up onto the stage in the centre. It’s wooden and a bit unstable, it does the job but wouldn’t take much to collapse it. As I look at the crowd they look very down on their luck, none are smiling or joking they all look quite sad. I remember looking out at the square. It’s very uncomfortable, not cold but early morning cold to go through you, coupled with the fact I’ve been wearing the same clothes for several days. Not taking them off to sleep as it was to cold.
I remember being in jail before hand. I had to sleep on straw. It was very uncomfortable. I was given water and very stale bread to eat.
I don’t remember much about my life before the jail and execution, but I do remember my clothes are quite fine but very tatty and faded now. I have white tight like leggings on.
When we approach the guillitine we circle around the square. There is a slight jeer but no jubilation or gloating & everyone is quite tense. I then step up and my memory ends.
It seems insane I remember so much of it, the detail. Of everything that sticks out it’s the touch and feel of things I really remember, I would never tell anyone else about it because it makes me question my own sanity.
Oh, and I have a birth mark across the back of my neck, at the bottom. Sideways across. Weird.
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