I once had a dream that I was trapped inside of a box. I didn't know how I got there or how long I had been inside, but I knew that I was home alone. How did I get out of that box, you ask? Well the answer is that I didn't. Later on, I realized that I had been inside of the box for days without food or water or air, yet I was still alive. A few dream hours later, I felt my life slipping away with no one knowing I was there. Just as my life was passing on, I heard footsteps. Loud, heavy footsteps unlike all the footfalls I have ever heard. Then, everything was silent and my essence was no more.

I believe that dream was a past death. A past life. A death that I experienced in another life, but haven't thought about until that night. Everything has a purpose. What do you think?