After Ben posted this video and it got featured on the Yahoo! Front Page, people all over Facebook, or at least my friends on Facebook, showed their support by posting "Do You Believe In Angels Or God? I Do♥" on their status. Or simply "I Do".

Now, I think the video is worth watching.

I just want to know what your opinions are on this subject.

Both on Ben's afterlife experiences and people saying I Do. I Believe In Angels and God because of Ben's video.

Views: 105

Comment by Lewal on December 31, 2011 at 12:37pm

One time I dreamt I was in a machine, that was actually like a shuttle.  I was thrust into the sky and propelled above the clouds, where the sun and the sky and the clouds were radiant, and the machine opened and fell through the clouds as I exited it, but it wasn't like a hatch opened and I got out, it was like I was birthed upward.  And I didn't fall with the machine, I just floated. I looked around and realized a great battle was ensuing, where radiant angels with radiant robes and radiant armor and radiant hair and radiant wings and radiant spears and swords of fire fought each other, flying around with cauterized wounds as they spilled each others' radiant blood.

When I awoke from this dream, my heart was pumping so fast I seriously thought it was going to burst and it continued to do so for over an hour, most of which time I spent lying motionless, my mind racing. I had ended up at an inn at a Cahuilan community in southern California, where me and some friends tried some peyote after a long night of x and jager. When I finally vomited, it felt like I was puking out my heart (which was on fire from the strain). It was a huge relief, but I still couldn't walk straight due to what (not being a medical expert) I could only call extreme nausea. After a shower (there was a lot of sweat) the feeling had been distilled to what I'd imagine having a brain tumor feels like; namely, the worst hangover imaginable. I seriously sat on that bed and thanked all the gods I knew of that I hadn't choked on my vomit in my sleep or soiled myself. I was pretty sure I'd had about the closest thing to a religious experience anyone could have. Then I just slumped over against the wall, too awake to try and force myself to sleep, too exhausted to seek out food or asprin. When my friends finally knocked on the door, they didn't look any better. They were bigger, so it hadn't hit them as hard, but they hadn't passed it yet; I did not envy them. They explained to me that I was in really bad shape and they put me upstairs because it had large windows and they wanted to keep my body cool. And obviously didn't want to bring me to the hospital (I couldn't fault them-- they hadn't been in the best state of mind at the time).  The moral of the story is, when your body's doing some crazy things, well... your brain's a part of your body, so you see some crazy things.

Also the moral of the story is SHAMANS ARE DRUG-DEALERS.

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