The quote below is from the book; “Far Journeys”, by Robert Monroe. FOR YOUR EDUCATION!

One of Monroe's many OOBE, with one of his friend (BB) in that state, who knew nothing about “Humanity”. “AA” is their friend who became “Human” to experience “Humanity”. Kind of like the Jesus Christ story. Anyway, some parts are awkward, to say the least.
Do you think epsteen and slick willy will end-up in the “sex pile”? lol

You may also gather from the quote below, that no such thing as “Demon possession”, which is a Judaeo Christian fable, designed to keep people in fear and paralyzed. ALL “Demon possessed” entities are acting out IN THEIR MINDS, “Local two” possibilities in this “Local one” existence.

You'll also know from the quote below why the children of the parents almost never turn out to be like the parents. The physical bodies of the offsprings yes, but not the “spirits”.

You'll see, how cleverly the hostile, parasite entities fabricated the “money” concept to steal the ENERGIES of the people. You hear about all kinds of conspiratorial entities but you NEVER hear about THE BIGGEST conspirators, the members of the “EMPIRE OF ENERGY”. If you would have access to free energy, you would be free from everybody!

It is important in your life to keep the memories but loose the emotions. If you fail to loose the emotions that are connected to acts and deeds you experienced, they are extra weights and will slow your escape velocity down, so you won't be able to escape.

“...(AA was one smart curl, you can believe it. Too smart for his own good.
Look what it got him.)
I plied again. (It happens.)

I was about to turn and disengage as carefully as I could, but I was too
late. I had the strong percept that he would come to some solution and it
would involve me. I was too right.
He had lighted very brightly. (You can do it!)
(Do what?)
(Feed me rotes about humans. Then I'd be ready for him.)
I flickered. (I wouldn’t know where to start.)
(Then show me how it works.)
(How am I going to do that? You 'd have to be in-human . . .)
(No, no, I wouldn't,) BB cut in quickly. (You move around without a
physical body.)
(Well, yes, but . . .)
(You and me, we had a hook right from the start, RAM. Like old friends.
I got a solid ident on you. So you be my Tour Guide, quick and short. How
about it?)
I smoothed. (What's it like being human in one easy lesson?)
He lighted more. (That's it, that's it!)

That was it all right. Not quite the blind leading the blind, but close.
All I could do was give him a skim over what I did have as the basics, show
him . . . yes! Show! That ought to make it clear.
I opened. (All right. The main thing about being in-human is survival.
That's the biggest percept of all. It drowns out about everything else for
most humans.)
He blanked. (What's survival.)
(Staying alive.)
(What kind of problem is that? You’re alive, you stay alive.)
I smoothed. (Not if you’re in a physical body. The imprint comes up for
most to mean stay alive in a physical body, no more. They use most of their
energy trying to survive, one way or another. That's the cause of virtually all human problems. The drive for survival is so strong it messes up everything.
End of lesson.)
BB rolled. (Come on, that's the wildest rote I ever had thrown at me!)
(It's not so funny if you're in it. You believe it as real and nothing else.)
He continued to roll, and I realized there was only one way he just
might get the idea. Show him. Take him down on the beach and watch
the swimmers . . . (Come on, follow my ident.)
BB lighted. (Sure, RAM!)
I turned, did a half-roll, and dove down through the rings with my new
KT-95 friend close behind me. Never mind the big centers, get down to
the basics . . . that would be back from civilization, outlying physical
areas . . . middle of Asia, yes . . . that would do it . . . I pulled to a
stop just over a bleak hill with a ragged forest down one side. A man was
crouched in the edge of the forest. BB was beside me and I turned his
focus on the man. What looked to be a small deer was grazing in the
grasses not far from the man. The man raised a gun, took aim, and fired.
The deer fell, twitching its legs, and the man ran forward, pulled the
deer's head back, and slashed its throat with a knife. Blood gushed out
from the deer's throat, and it finally went limp. The man hoisted the deer
over his shoulder and moved along the edge of the woods in the direction
of a stone hut. We followed as BB pushed at me.
(That human, he killed that other being.)
I plied. (Yep.)
(Why did he do that? Not much survival going on there!)
(Not for the deer, that's the other one, the animal . . . uh, the other
being. The human needs the body of the deer.)
BB blanked. (What would he want with that? He's already got a body.)
I smoothed, here it comes. (To survive. He needs it to eat.)
(Eat! What's eat?)
(He puts it in his own physical body to give it energy to survive, so he can stay alive. That's what we ident eating.)
(The other being, the uh, deer, it didn't survive, stay alive . . . uh,
physically. I got a good percept of the energy leaving it.)
One easy lesson! (Well, humans are what we ident as the dominant
species, uh, beings alive here. They are at the top of what we call the food chain. Food is what we call the stuff we eat. Little species get eaten by bigger species which in turn get eaten by bigger species until you get up to human. He isn't the biggest but he's the smartest, that's why he's the dominant species. He eats about everything that grows.)
BB was turned inward and flickering as we followed the man to the stone hut. The man shifted the deer carcass off his shoulder and hung it head down on a rack outside the hide-draped doorway. Then he went inside.
BB flickered. (Isn’t he going to, uh, eat it?)
(He will later. Has to cure it a little first, let the blood drain out of it.
Want to go inside?)
He didn't really have a choice, as I led him through the stone wall.
Inside, there was a small fire burning in the center of an earthen floor.
Around the fire were three persons, a woman and two small children. The
woman was stirring a pot hung over the fire, the two children watching
hungrily. The man sat down and joined them, took off his heavy coat, and
accepted the bowl the woman handed him. He started to eat, using his
fingers to pull pieces of food from the bowl and sipping from its rim. BB
pushed at me urgently.
(What was that he did!)
(Right now he's eating, he's taking pieces of food and putting them into
his body, and the little stuff, he just pours it in.)
(Yeh, yeh, I got that percept, it was before! He slipped off part of his
body!)
I blanked, then lighted. (That was his coat. It's not his body, it's a piece of stuff he puts on to keep warm. That's the next thing in the survival need—to keep your physical body so it's warm enough or cool enough and to protect it from getting hurt. That's the reason for the cabin, the, uh, hut we're in now. It helps protect the physical body. The fire . . . the, uh, radiation in the middle, that helps them keep warm.)
I had the percept that BB was focused as one would be fascinated by a
cobra weaving its hooded head directly in front of your face. I focused on
him, trying to determine exactly what and how much of the scene was
penetrating him as a real rote. How do you explain warm and cold or such
a simple thing as a cooking fire, or the constant attention and servicing a
physical body requires, to one who has never been in one? Then BB was
pushing at me again.
(RAM, RAM!) He was vibrating strongly. (He's killing the other one!)
I turned. The man had moved the woman back from the fire and pushed her to the ground. He was on top of her, his body holding her down, arms around her tightly, hers around him. Her long rough dress was thrown up over her hips and they were writhing violently, her open legs locked around his waist. The two children were eating from the bowl, totally unconcerned. Not being the voyeur type, I could be quite clinical.
I smoothed. (He's not killing her. They 're, uh, reproducing.)
(What's . . .)
(They're putting their two energies together to form a third. They're
making copies of themselves, like the smaller two there eating by the fire.
I'm sure they made those two.)
(Why would they do that?)
(It's the biggest part of the survival stuff. Make a copy of yourself and
keep on living in your copy. It's basic in all living species, not just humans. The rote is that you reproduce first, before you get around to eating, cold or warm, whatever.)
(But they already made two.)
(That's a sort of guarantee that at least one will survive to make more
copies. If those two young new ones die or get killed before they make
copies, then the third they’re making right now might live long enough to
get copies made.)
BB flickered. (Why would they die, or how would they get killed?)
(That's one of the problems of physical life. It's easier to die or get killed than it is to live. The strong survival drive is needed to achieve balance.
That produces other problems.)
(What problems?)
(We’ll get to them along the way.)
He focused on the couple below, who by now had completed their
sexual act and were back eating before the fire. (The two big ones are not
the same.)
(Humans, but different. Run the rote when you caught up with AA—he wanted to go back and be a female. Then the next time around, he had been a female. Humans are either male or female. It takes a male and a female to reproduce, to make a copy.)
BB turned inward, then opened. (Which are you?)
(Male.)
(You ever been female?)
(I don't have any rote on it, so I guess not.)
He opened more. (Nothing like this in KT-95. Never had a percept like
it, to make a copy of yourself. Fascinating!)
I cut in. (Well, it's not exactly a copy of yourself, it's a physical mix of the two, and you hope it might be a copy of you, but it never really turns out that way. It's just a physical vehicle. The curl who enters it might be a total stranger.)
BB rolled. (Don't get concerned, RAM. I'm not that fascinated.)
(I get a percept that stronger curls than you have been caught into being
human.)
He smoothed. (At this point, I don't get any part of this survival stuff.
That would be too much for me. The eating, I can adjust to, the warm and
cool. If they can do it, I can do it. The reproducing, copy making, that
would be fun, make a big game out of it.)
I couldn't hold it back. (Famous last words. Come on.)
He blanked. (No percept on that one. Last words?)
I turned, went through the wall, sure that BB was following. I homed in
on the one place that I knew would give him a strong rote on how distortion
could accumulate. Ident New York, center of Manhattan, start with West Forty-second Street. The movement was quite short, and we came in
at sidewalk level. The usual evening human composites were crowding one
another, jostling, strolling, hurrying, and loitering. The eateries, the old movie houses overplugging underdone X-rated pornos on their marquees,
the gimmick and gut shops, record stores blasting it out, the car and truck
traffic filling the street—it hadn't really changed in thirty years, only more of the same. Yes, this would show it. BB was in the middle of the passing parade, unnecessarily ducking and trying to avoid bumping into people. I steered him over to the curb, out of the rush and crush.
He flickered. (Where 'd they all come from?)
(Crossroads of the world, they used to call it. Come from everywhere, lot
of them live nearby.)
(Why do they come here, this place!)
I smoothed. (The percept is, you can find anything you want here in New
York.)
BB vibrated. (Still doesn't come out new to me, even down in it.)
(It's just the ident, that's all. But they're doing the same thing as the man back there by the woods, every one of them. Trying to survive. Doing anything to keep alive.)
BB flickered. (I don't get the same percept. And the M Band noise is
shaking me up too much. The scratchy stuff in the band, it's the worst!
Never got that before anywhere! Where's it all coming from?)
I smoothed. (Close a little, that'll make it easier. The noise is coming
from us humans. The scratchy stuff that screeches so much I finally figured
out. It's their emotions.)
(Emotions?)
(I won't try to give you a percept on it, you have to be human to experience it. It's the next-biggest problem after the survival drive. Makes humans do things they really don't want to do.)
He flickered, half open. (Why do they make all the noise?)
I plied. (They don't know they're doing it.)
He turned inward, closed. Then he opened slightly. (You're human.
How come you don't make M Band noise like that?)
(I do. I just have it under control for the moment. Back in the physical, I
blow it all over the place, I'm sure.)
BB opened and smoothed. (All right. If you can take it, so can I. Now,
what about this survival stuff?)
I spun a slow 360. (Within a short time-distance from this spot, you can
get all of your survival needs taken care of and more. As much as you want,
any kind you want, whenever you want. You ident it and you got it.)
BB flickered. (All the, uh, food to, uh, eat?)
(From the hamburger joint over there to the top of that tower over in the
distance. Go in and they will supply you.)
(The warm and the cool, the, uh, hut to stay in, the stuff you put on your
body?)
(All here.)
(How about making copies, the, uh . . . yeh, reproducing?)
I rolled. (I suppose you could get that, too, if you looked hard enough.
Most of it here is, uh, doing the action without making any copies.)
BB blanked. (Why would you want to do it if you’re not making copies!)
I flickered. (My percept has it that the survival imprint was so strong it
wanted to make sure each species took the trouble to reproduce. So the act
of doing it was made to be, uh . . . fun.)
He blanked again. (Fun! Those back there didn't act like they were
having fun!)
I plied. (You have to be human to get that percept. It can't be handed out
in a rote either. Anyway, you can satisfy that part of the survival drive, too, as much as you want.)
BB lighted brightly. (Then what's all the mix-up about! It's all under
control! Humans get what they want, there's plenty of it, each curl soaks it up and goes back where he came from.)
I turned inward and closed. This was turning into a hard lesson for me,
not him. I was pretty sure it wouldn't work and it wasn't. How do I convey
to him the fact that all humans have to spend most of their waking hours
working one way or another just to survive, that humans want the same
thing and kill each other to get it, that they get so involved in surviving
they don't know when to stop when they have enough, that humans form
big clubs they call nations and try to destroy other nations who they think
threaten their survival, that the whole thing occupies their thoughts and
actions so deeply they forget completely any other existence but physical
human . . .
(You're leaking again, RAM,) BB cut in. (You got it right. I wouldn't get
a percept on any of it. What's this work stuff? You mean humans kill and
eat each other? What do you mean, they forget?)
I did the best I could. (Work is what humans do to get money, uh, energy to pay, uh, give to other humans so those humans will give them what they want to satisfy their survival needs.)
(Money energy, huh? Must be pretty strong stuff. I have no ident on it.)
(You wouldn't. Only humans have it, and it's strictly physical. Won't
work anywhere except on physical earth and with other humans. Worse than that, each group of humans, uh, nations . . .)
(The big clubs . . . we have game clubs in KT-95.)
(Yes, the big clubs of humans. Each has its own type of money energy and they trade money.)
BB smoothed. (So if I want a deer to eat, or a hut to be in, a cover for my
body to be in, I got to give money energy to get it.)
(You work, you pay, and you get.)
He focused on the cars moving by. (How about those covers? Can you get them for money energy, too?)
(That's all it takes.)
(It's too messed up for me.) BB smoothed completely. (If I had to be
human, I would stay away from all the rest of it and just hang around
making copies and let it go at that. . . . What's so funny?)
I was rolling hard and couldn't keep closed.
He blanked. (That takes money energy, too?)
I plied. (One way or another.)
Suddenly, I felt an urgent signal to return to the physical, loud and
clear. I tried to resist it, and worked to get BB's attention at the same
time. I had to go back, but I couldn't leave him where he was, he wouldn't
know how to get out . . . but the signal was too strong and I couldn't
help myself. I began to move away, slowly as I resisted, then accelerating
quickly as I decided to go back and see what the problem was and return
as fast as I could. I reached the second, slipped in fast, and pulled up into the physical. I sat up in the bed and looked around. Everything seemed
normal, no full bladder, no tingle in an arm or leg from poor circulation,
no aches or pains. Must have been external, phone ringing, jet aircraft
overhead, whatever, it wasn't important. I immediately remembered BB,
and I had the thought of him standing bewildered on the curb at Fortysecond
and Broadway. I went through a quick relaxation to try to get
down and OOB, but I was too keyed up, I couldn't hold it together. On
about the sixth try, I fell asleep.
When I awakened, it was morning. I thought of trying to get out and
help BB, but it was the wrong time for me. I spent the day in my typical
pattern, with BB flashing in and out of my consciousness. This was a case
where I was 100 percent responsible and I knew it. Finally, late in the
afternoon, I felt tired enough to relax, and went up to the lab, entered,
and locked the door. I set up some sound signals and went into the booth.
I lay back on the water bed, put on the headphones, and almost immediately
started to relax. The rest was easy. I detached from the physical,
rolled out of the second, started to reach, and stopped. There was a form
directly in front of me.
(Hey, RAM, where you going?)
I vibrated. (How did you get here!)
BB was very smooth. (When you started to pull that short skip, I just
followed your ident. I wasn’t going to stay in all that M Band noise if you
didn 't. Much better here.)
(I should hope so.)
(Your survival must be going strong. You got more than one hut.)
I flickered. (This is not a hut, it's where we work.)
(I got a solid percept of you coming out of the physical body there. That
yours?)
I vibrated. (Certainly it's mine! I don't go into other people s bodies.)
(Why not?)
I flickered. (Well, uh, it's against the rules.)
(What rules?)
(I don't know, it doesn 't, uh, the percept is, you don't do it. I don't think I could if I wanted to.)
(You do a lot of turning and twisting when you come out, you know.)
I plied. (I don't have a percept from outside watching me in action.)
(We do much the same back in KT-95 in a game we play. Gets us in and
out of the system over us. Hey, what are all those curls doing in that big hut over there?)
I vibrated. (You didn't go over there, did you?)
BB smoothed. (Just hung around a little. Couldn’t get your attention, so
/ had to do something. Tossed a couple of rotes to one or two. They were
glad to get them. What they doing?)
(They are trying to break the survival habit . . . and to relearn what they
forgot. It's a school.)
(I don't get any percept you need a school to do that.) I turned. (You
need the rest of your one easy lesson.) I reached and stretched, headed
for the lowest of the cycling rings, staying just out of phase with the
physical. This was the part that was the rough stuff but I was sure we
would be ignored and unmolested if we stayed just on the upper
fringes. I didn't look forward to it. For purposes of comparison, I used
the same Forty-second Street ident in New York. It was a short run and
we came out fifty feet over the street. BB was beside
me.
He smoothed. (Back here again. No difference, except a big mass more
of humans.)
(Focus on the ones that you perceive best.)
BB opened, and evidently the change in the superimposed mass was
apparent to him. The man rushing out from the curb to flag a taxi and
running through it, and stopping bewildered as car after car passed
through the space he seemed to occupy. The thin young male in long hair,
who looked to be no more than eighteen, trying to get the attention of the
young group leaning against a parked car, asking for a hit from the joint
being passed around but unable to get their attention because they can't
see or hear him. The burly policeman in full uniform swinging his nightstick, strolling along the storefronts totally unaware that he is unobserved. The smartly dressed woman of indeterminate age trying to find a coin for a newspaper in her purse as she unknowingly walks through the side of a nearby building. The older man trying to buy the offerings of two young hookers standing by a doorway leading upstairs, angry because they don't know he exists, watches as a physical man steps up, waves a double sawbuck in one girl's face as she turns and leads him up the stairs; the first man following. The old woman walking slowly along the street, oblivious to everything around her, reaching down occasionally to the sidewalk and attempting to pick up a half-smoked cigarette snipe, but her hand passes through it. The dark-skinned man standing defiantly in the middle of the passing crowds, intense hate on his face and knife in hand, slashing through each passerby without realizing he is damaging or hurting no one. The unshaven old man at the open bar across the street, trying to pick up and toss down every drink set in front of a customer, then climbing on a customer's back to try and get the taste and effect of the drink as the customer feels it, unnoticed and to no avail. I turned to BB. (Had
enough?) He flickered strongly. (What's the matter with them?) (They've
died physically and they don't know it. All they remember is human
physical existence and they're trying to hang on. That's all they got, they
think.)
(Can't you give them a different percept?)
I smoothed. (If you mean me, I have to have help when I get into that
run. There are others who make a career of it.) BB blanked. (Career?)
(That's all they do, try to get the attention of such humans. Would you
like to get a percept of an extreme distortion of the survival drive?) He
flickered. (Sure, lead on.)
I knew he was shaken, but I had to push him all the way. Then I could be
positive he would appreciate the outer rings. I reached, homed on ident
sexual pile, and stretched. After a short movement, we stopped. We were
less than ten feet away. Beside me, BB focused, blanked, and closed. I
waited, and he finally opened again slightly. I focused away from the pile
of writhing human forms and half-closed. It was about all I could take.
BB vibrated weakly. (What happened to them!)
(They've died physically and they at least know they're different, not
responsible, they think, so they're letting it all hang out.) (But, uh, what are they doing, like that?)
(They have no interest but reproducing, not to make copies, but just the
act of reproducing. That's all they know and all they care about. They keep
trying but get no satisfaction because it takes a physical body the way they know it—and they don't have any.)
BB attempted to focus again, and turned away. (Let's get out of here.)
I wanted his rote to be absolutely real. (Convinced?) (Yeh, yeh, let's
go.)
I reached and stretched outward, positive he was close behind me, moved slowly outward. We passed through the density of still gray forms who were neither here nor there, barely conscious and waiting for something
to happen—and it would, all positive. Very little M Band noise there. I eased us to a stop in the center of the next-innermost ring. There
were forms all around us, very human. Each was aware and active in a
tight circle that included only their own rote.
BB nudged me. (Why you stopping here? Noise is still heavy.)
I opened. (There's a big difference. These know they no longer have
physical bodies, but not much more. Focus in on a couple, and you’ll get a
percept.)
BB turned and faced a woman who seemed to be walking in slow motion, in one place. She appeared middle-aged, overweight, tears running down her face . . . (I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Mommy didn't mean to leave you, baby doll, but she just couldn’t help it, but I'm coming back, I'm coming back to help you just as soon as I can . . . I'm coming back somehow . . .)
I indicated a man who looked to be in his sixties, pacing back and forth
rapidly, pounding his fist in the palm of his other hand . . . BB
refocused . . . (Damn, damn, damn! Just when I had it all set up to go
out and enjoy myself. Damn! Now she’ll spend it all on clothes and trips
everywhere and I'm left out. Got to get back somehow, got to get what's
coming to me. Damn! Damn! . . .)
We turned in the direction of a man who appeared to be sitting down,
indeterminate age, slowly shaking his head from side to side, staring
blindly . . . (Never got a chance to tell her I didn't mean to beat her up. I was drunk, I was drunk, that's all. What a hell of a note. What am I going to do now? I knew that turn in the road was coming . . . There's got to be something I can do . . .)
A thin young girl in blue jeans attracted our attention. Hands on her hips, she was looking around defiantly . . . (Shit! Is that all there is to
dying! I don't see any God or angels . . . I knew it, knew it! Shit!)
We moved carefully around the various animate human forms, singled out another, a man of middle age, gray-haired, standing and looking at the
haze, arms folded . . . (Well, I did the best I could. Left them money in
the bank, house in good shape, insurance will take care of the mortgage.
Right front tire on the station wagon needs replacing. Hope Ben will take
care of the contract on the Holmes deal. Company is going to miss me.
Would have enjoyed one more dinner at Luigi's, never get seafood like that
again . . .)
BB swung to me. (He's closed up tight. We can't reach him?)
I plied. (Go ahead and try.)
He moved directly in front of the man, tossing small rotes at the man's
face. Each time, the man waved his hand as if he were brushing a persistent
fly off his nose. Other than that, there was no response. BB finally gave up and followed as I turned and moved outward through the haze of
the ring. It was hard for me to accept now that I had once been as deeply
focused in HTSI, but I was sure it was so. If my rote of it was there, it was deeply covered over. I like to think I released it, of course.
One more stop before we reached the null point should do it. When
the haze began to lessen somewhat, I came to a stop. A woman was
standing amid what seemed to be jagged rock outcrop. She was aware of
us immediately and began to scream. BB started to back away.
The woman came at us, waving her arms. (You stay away from me, you
spawn of the devil! I was a sinner, but I didn't sin any more than everyone
else, I tell you! You can't take me to hell, because I'm a good woman! You
go after those harlots down on Front Street!)
She stopped abruptly, sank to her knees, head bowed, sobbing. (Please
don't take me to hell . . . Please! I just want to be with my daughter.
She's around here somewhere, she was so good. She couldn't help dying
before me. I know she didn't go to hell . . . Please, please!)
I did what I could. (Your daughter was good. If you just rest quietly, she
will come and find you. Think of her, sit quietly and think of her, and she
will find you. What was her name?)
The woman's sobbing eased, but her head remained bowed and she was unable to think clearly. I did get a percept. (Claire will find you very soon.)
The woman slowly raised her head, eyes open in wonder as I turned and led BB further outward through the haze.
BB came beside me. (You sure swung that one, RAM.)
I plied. (Beginner's luck.)
He blanked. (What's . . .)
(More human stuff. Come on.)
Sometimes my navigation wasn't as good as I would like it to be. We
finally broke through the haze into a cleared area. This was my intended
stopping point. To the right, the surf of a white-capped blue ocean
crashed regularly against a rocky shore. Overhead, the sky was a lighter
blue with no clouds. In front of us was a simple log cabin, and behind the
cabin rose a forested mountain. It could be either Maine or California, but
it wasn't. It wasn't anything...”