Our minds carry with it a bag of memories. We have the pleasure of pulling them out any time we want and wander back to a time. The very idea of being able to physically travel back in time and experience life from the very first second is a dream and fantasy many people have had. And I am no exception to daydreaming about unordinary things. Such fantasies reflect a deeper yearning for doing something idealistic, but which is completely out of reach.
What's going on? I can't breathe! I'm drowning! What the hell? What is this fluid?! Where am I?
I have been thinking lately about death, and I don’t mean in a morbid I want to die way.
Everyone, at some point wonders what happens when we die. The answer is nobody really knows. Maybe it is like sleeping; you're in an unconscious state, only you can't awake. When you're dead, you are in an everlasting darkness unable to feel, see or hear. You basically do not exist. I personally do not like this concept because thinking about this when your alive is awful.
I wanted to first thank everyone who has read my words. Some of you may agree, some may disagree, and some may just be indifferent.
For centuries, people of all religions have debated the existence of fate. It’s become one of the most common conversations to be had despite the ever changing religious beliefs of the world. Yet, no one can seem to come to an agreement. It’s a topic that creates passionate arguments within science and all regions of religion, whether it be within the one most common God, or all the Gods in history that are now obsolete. It seems that most people believe free will and fate work together hand in hand, guiding each other along a path, where fate only intervenes when necessary. Unfortunately people fail to see that these philosophical constructs are contradictory to each other. Their purposes reverse that of the other which in turn diminishes their value of existing in the first place. If they mutually exist then their purposes become invalid just by the mere presence of one negating the function of the other. So either they both exist with no true function whatsoever, or only one exists. And if only one exists, then rationally it must be fate.
"The Banks of the Nile" has been a 50-year endeavor. It all started when I was 16 years old. Just before my grandfather died, he gave me a pamphlet called the Powers of the Pyramids. The first thing I wanted to do was build one to live in and I did so in 1984 in Wesley, Arkansas. This pyramid home opened my mind so much that I had to stop taking notes, stop testing previous experimental assumptions, and I started to realize I just made the discovery of all time. First, I had to build a true pyramid. You ask what is a true pyramid? I could easily say go build a true pyramid and you would not stand a chance of accomplishing that task. The materials being used and angles of construction, along with kept secrets of global positioning, are so important that the smallest changes will abort the processing of pyramid power. You cannot take a wire and make a little pyramid and put it on your head and expect it to do anything. I have a lot of information about the pyramids. If you made a comment of something about the pyramids, nine times out of 10 you're going to be wrong. I know exactly how the Great Pyramids were built and it was the last and only true pyramid built until the one I built. Yes, it was powerful in so many ways, you would not believe what I found out.
In our history, humanity has grown and evolved, we have won and we have lost. We have created beautiful wonders, and sadly oversaw atrocities. We have learned with each new generation seeking a better tomorrow. This drive has carried us from the dirt to civilization, and from civilization to society. It has cultivated a culture of dreamers who look beyond what can be seen to chart new paths towards our future.
Of course, I was punished by the principal and sent home early. My mother picked me up. She hated the Forsythe's so she only acted like she was scolding me in the car. However, what she was really doing was asking me how I hit Nathan? How much did he bleed? Did he wimp like a little baby, did he try to even fight back, or did he just cringe under the pounding?