Astral Projections and Reflections 

Last summer, when the reincarnation dread was circling again — that deep, cellular I cannot do this again — I slipped into a lucid state.

I was in a small, mouldy house arguing with a bald monk about space.

“It’s not big enough.”

He looked straight at me. “Gii, you’re lucid. Now. Jump.”

I flew through the ceiling. Fell through the floor. Snapped back into the room.

He smiled.

“There is more than enough space here. And you won’t be reincarnated on this planet again. You’re not coming back.”

I woke up relieved in a way that felt interdimensional — as if something from another layer of reality had reached through just to tell me: you’re done here.