So, I have fought with myself for over a decade about how I must surely be wrong about who I think I am. I am no one special. But if my mind is to be believed, I used to sell out stadiums. How can this be? Yet I have these clear little moments which could belong to no one else.
So how is it, then, that I read of people who seem to latch onto one identity and then discard it when they discover they're wrong? I have only had one other supposed FPL, which I quickly discovered was more of an attachment to that person at the time. We were contemporaries. I related to the guy at the time. But this other one, there have been more clues and incidents than I care to recall. I have been very conflicted over it; surely I must be making it up or simply mistaken. But on a deep level I am certain.... which also on another level makes me certain I am insane.
But my question is this: How is it possible to not know? I know, and wish I didn't. If one was a famous person, who is still famous, does not every single mention of this person reach out and grab you by the throat? Sometimes it seems like I can't escape my former self. So how is it that the more common experience seems to be that of searching in the dark? Is this really how anyone finds a past life? I think of it as a string, wound through the immense inner space that is my mind. All I have to do is trace the string backwards to see where I have been. On the other hand, I have always been a bit of a record-keeper.
Maybe those who don't have direct recollections are less obsessed with keeping records?
