My eyes open, but have to squint immediately. I’m not blinded. It’s just… what I see is strangely distorted. Blurred. That’s the word. It’s all blurry, especially to the left and right. If I focus my gaze straight on, it’s better, though it still looks as if I’m peering through a smear on a window. There’s something even more weird. Get this: I can easily move my eyes, but not my head. Why can’t...
They say that the thought of dying alone causes such a horror in the human soul that it will go to great lengths to avoid it — even if it means to break out of the order of things, for a fraction of an instant. Now I’m a reasonable, grown-up person, and I’ve never given anything much about such talk. But lately, I’m not so sure anymore. I’ve come to believe that there may be something to it, that...
Leif Frenzel is a writer and independent researcher. He has a background in philosophy, literature, music, and information technology. His recent interest is Jungian psychology, especially synchronicities and the relationship between consciousness and the unconscious.