Past Lives

I see myself dressed up in armor. My metal hands are covered in blood. Mine and my enemies'. The sword in my hand is dripping the liquid of life and the sweat that finds it's way through the iron jacket. I can hear myself screaming. While i tremble from adrenaline shots given bu death i find comfort in the bodies of those dead, at my feet. As i raise my hand in victor i wonder: is this another mind trick of my rich fantasy or a vivid memory of a past life? Is this a dream, a desire or a memory?

Sexuality became violence. I can only find arousal in brutality of physical love. I only wanted harder, longer. Tenderness is a vague memory of conquest or a result of post coital victory. But the battle is now just battle. Been deprived too long. It's time to take what is rightfully mine. Even if that means by force. 

I was told that most likely in a past life i was Jack the Ripper: a rapist and a murderer of women. But Jack the Ripper was no rapist. He was a failed rapist. He was using knives instead of a penetrating penis. God knows what was in his tormented mind and sadistic soul. Rapists and murderers steal pleasure. I got a different type of sin. I want to give it by all means. Which makes me believe that i was indeed Jack the Ripper in a past life.

I am sure i used to wear caligulae and a body armor that we now call lorica segmentata. In front of several pictures of gladius-es i've immediately recognized one and wanted to buy it. 3 years later i still do. Battle ready. Fully sharpened. On my wish list is learning to use a sword and a bow with arrows. I was a soldier in many lives before. Roman, Crusader, musketeer. Or my mind has been totally altered by books, movies and video-games. Either way, i am living more lives than one. And still doesn't seem enough. 

Not being able to identify your true self, your true nature. Not being able to settle and find peace. Isn't that a clear sign of reincarnation, of an uncompleted search? ...

Egypt, Carthage, Jerusalem, Seville and Cordoba. I am drawn to these places, i see them in my dreams. As if i am to re-trace a former path that i've been already walking on, many, many times before. I wonder if once i got there - cause i hope to get there - i will be able to recognize the ruins, the shadows, the missing streets. Will i be able to go to the old hose where once i knew the peace and kindness that i'm looking for...

If only the waters would speak... They wittiness it all. They could tell us how the past really was. They could reflect us into our future.

In time the World became smaller and, contrary to initial expectations, Humanity became smaller as well. Insignificant even. That's what you get when you remove Gods from your lives and you take Earth out of the center of the Universe... Humanity is now drifting in its own lack of purpose and meaning. Living in constant denial so that it won't commit a mass suicide.

I see myself standing on a mountain of corpses. Victorious. With a bloody sword in my hand. Me, so afraid of physical confrontations, triumphant in a major battle of the past. Definitely a wishful thinking. Inventing a personal mythology that would serve as an excuse for a disappointing present. A compensation for the fact that i don't matter. That i'm anonymous. And i'll always be...