by John Rappaport
The blockbuster movie called Reality
by Jon Rappoport
There is always a certain amount of whining and remorse as one enters the theater to see the movie called Reality, after buying the ticket.
“Is this a good idea?” “Why did I do it?”
But you can already feel a merging sensation. The electromagnetic fields humming in the theater, even before the movie starts, are drawing you into the space.
Your perception of x dimensions is narrowing down to three.
You take your seat. You look at the note you’ve written to yourself, and you read it again:
“Don’t forget where you came from. Don’t forget this is just a movie. Don’t fall asleep. The serial time in the movie is an artifact. The binding feeling of sentimental sympathy is a trance-induction. It’s the glue that holds the movie fixed in your mind.”
“The movie will induce nostalgia for a past…
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