40,13 €
44,59 €
-10% with code: EXTRA
Just My Thoughts
Just My Thoughts
40,13
44,59 €
  • We will send in 10–14 business days.
As a young boy of six or seven I was afraid of the dark, not outside on the streets of Wakefield, but in my bedroom - the place was alive with beings from the lower Astral. Even at that age I knew the mind was capable of a lot more than was spoken about. I would lie in bed dripping with sweat calling for my mum just for her to say, "what's wrong with you?" Read me a story I would say. Then, when the story had finished and she had gone again I was back where I started. I hid under the covers and…
  • Publisher:
  • ISBN-10: 1434309339
  • ISBN-13: 9781434309334
  • Format: 21.6 x 21.6 x 0.3 cm, softcover
  • Language: English
  • SAVE -10% with code: EXTRA

Just My Thoughts (e-book) (used book) | Ed Loft | bookbook.eu

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As a young boy of six or seven I was afraid of the dark, not outside on the streets of Wakefield, but in my bedroom - the place was alive with beings from the lower Astral. Even at that age I knew the mind was capable of a lot more than was spoken about. I would lie in bed dripping with sweat calling for my mum just for her to say, "what's wrong with you?" Read me a story I would say. Then, when the story had finished and she had gone again I was back where I started. I hid under the covers and focused on the colours in front of my eyes. I would make them pulsate and get them to start spinning then they would make a vortex and I would dive straight down the middle where hands would try to grab me as I went screaming past...then peace, absolute peace. From the age of six I knew this was probably not the only reality.

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  • Author: Ed Loft
  • Publisher:
  • ISBN-10: 1434309339
  • ISBN-13: 9781434309334
  • Format: 21.6 x 21.6 x 0.3 cm, softcover
  • Language: English English

As a young boy of six or seven I was afraid of the dark, not outside on the streets of Wakefield, but in my bedroom - the place was alive with beings from the lower Astral. Even at that age I knew the mind was capable of a lot more than was spoken about. I would lie in bed dripping with sweat calling for my mum just for her to say, "what's wrong with you?" Read me a story I would say. Then, when the story had finished and she had gone again I was back where I started. I hid under the covers and focused on the colours in front of my eyes. I would make them pulsate and get them to start spinning then they would make a vortex and I would dive straight down the middle where hands would try to grab me as I went screaming past...then peace, absolute peace. From the age of six I knew this was probably not the only reality.

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