Memories of My Last Life

Where Art imitates Life.

I have come to the conclusion that all of the art is merely a reminiscence of something that, at some point, already happened. In my very last incarnation, I was a failed actress, an entertainer who died of substance abuse and a broken heart at forty. I performed at some venue in Chicago that was run by the mob. I hated the city, the cold, the place, and pretty much everything about my life. The glamour and joy of performance was the only thing I had… so it keeps coming up, back in images shot randomly as I improvise.

When we reincarnate, we often pick up where we left and are haunted by the same aspirations, dreams, and ambitions we had (or failed) in our past life. I´ve even met my peers from that life – a smuggler whose marriage offer I turned down (it was a mistake, he seemed to remember how I died young then, as did he), a girl who was a dancer at the same venue (she even said it, she remembered dancing together – she is a failed burlesque dancer in this life) and a pimp who beat me up when I transgressed on his territory (he owns a modeling agency now and pimps out underage girls – not much change there).

Anima Noira

Metaphysical Authoress. Harlot. Priestess. Demonatrix. Photo Model and Dangerous Writer. Keeping the Dark Arts alive is what I do, and I appreciate your support.

2 Comments

  1. Is it ever possible, I wonder, to overcome that kind of burden? Perhaps by accommodating the darker side of our natures we might even start to get “even”? Assuming, of course, that such a thing is worth doing.

    • Fortunately there is greater collective karmas ripening as we move through the cycles of the yugas, so even if one gets relatively hopelessly stuck, it all gets flushed down the cosmic bidet eventually. Some karmic knots are not possible to unbind certainly not using the powers we currently have, and during one lifetime.

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