So, what if our whole planet is just like a sperm bank of sorts to some cosmic nation or entity... so our entire evolution as human beings is like a seed waiting to be farmed...
Or worse, what if Castaneda was right and our very awareness itself is what is harvested upon death?
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T
If Copernicus, Tesla, or Hendrix had blogs... err... the faint shadows of their blogs caught in a blast of cold wind might resemble what is presented in this Tome o' Darkness xD
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