False Start #43
I believe that people have souls in spite of the snickers and cries from hard-headed materialists in the back of the room whose neurological pathways keep them from participating in this illusion that I call a soul, that I call my life-blood, that I call myself.
What would you reductionists not take from your own breath? You know, the one that gasps ineffectual innocence even as it breathes it in?