Just had a very nasty Deja-vu experience.
Thank goodness I was holding a nail file and in the middle of sorting out my nails.
Can't explain how it happened. It would take too long and I have a headache as well.
Sat in this car seat, and the moment I did I was somewhere else. It was just the way the seat felt.
Then I looked over my left shoulder and was altogether somewhere else and felt a nasty nasty yuck feeling of hanging on by a thread.
Too familiar.
Car is a 1937 Zephyr. Don't think it's the original colour.
I looked at the dashboard and just knew I had been a driver of this car.
(I don't have an opinion about re-incarnation. I have enough trouble keeping it all together in the here and now!).
Got out feeling stunned, and managed to stay reasonably coherent.
Just felt like I fell down that sh.t hole again... some places are not nice to find yourself in.
The first book I read that helped me understand seeing things in 'different' aspects was about a girl who visited an old Manor called Marchpain. I just tried looking for the book on Amazon but couldn't find it. I remember she was in the version of the Manor when it was built, and made a marzipan (Marchepaine) sculpture of how the house looked in her time all crumbling and unloved.
Thank goodness I was holding a nail file and in the middle of sorting out my nails.
Can't explain how it happened. It would take too long and I have a headache as well.
Sat in this car seat, and the moment I did I was somewhere else. It was just the way the seat felt.
Then I looked over my left shoulder and was altogether somewhere else and felt a nasty nasty yuck feeling of hanging on by a thread.
Too familiar.
Car is a 1937 Zephyr. Don't think it's the original colour.
I looked at the dashboard and just knew I had been a driver of this car.
(I don't have an opinion about re-incarnation. I have enough trouble keeping it all together in the here and now!).
Got out feeling stunned, and managed to stay reasonably coherent.
Just felt like I fell down that sh.t hole again... some places are not nice to find yourself in.
The first book I read that helped me understand seeing things in 'different' aspects was about a girl who visited an old Manor called Marchpain. I just tried looking for the book on Amazon but couldn't find it. I remember she was in the version of the Manor when it was built, and made a marzipan (Marchepaine) sculpture of how the house looked in her time all crumbling and unloved.
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