Followup to previous blog: Well it turns out, from further research, that the 'spirit doll' might be faked. Yeah, probably, but then did people really think they were buying land on the moon? I mean, it's EBAY, known for its strange and unusual items. It won't stop me from buying the doll, and who knows, it COULD be real. Just because people don't believe and, oh gee look it doesn't work for them, doesn't mean it's not real. Who knows, it's still kind of cool.
The Question of the Day is: What was your most terrifying dream (nightmare) as a child?
Actually, I don't have an answer for that one. I didn't have my first nightmare, that I can recall, until I was about eighteen years old and even it wasn't that scary. I guess that's why horror movies rarely scare me because I wasn't conditioned as a child to be afraid of fictional things like dreams. My first nightmare, my friend and me were in his house and I remember going to walk out the back door and our family dog was there. The dog looked up at me and then tried to attack me like it had rabies or something. The thing was, we had a poodle cross, she was barely the size of a coffee maker. Ooooh scary, not.
Nowadays I really have to psyche myself up to find a horror movie entertaining. I turn off the lights (all of them including any from electronics), wear wireless headphones and curl up under the covers, all that just to set the mood to allow my mind to experience fear.
The irony is, in the real world, I can be spooked quite easily and I am definitely not one to poke around alone in an allegedly haunted forest or house. Hey, why tempt fate?
After my last blog a couple of you asked me what I meant by being able to sense people in trouble or danger but not accurately or early enough to be of help to them. Well, I'll give you a few examples I've had over the years.
The most recent example that comes to mind was the old man with Alzheimers. There was a report on the local radio that an elderly man had wandered from the home where he was being cared for and they were concerned for his safety. They were looking in the immediate area and west towards the downtown core believing that he might be returning to old neighbourhoods he was familiar with. I heard the story and immediately heard a voice "no, he went to the east". I didn't think about it anymore until later that day when they reported that he had been found - in a neighbourhood a few kilometres east of his home.
In another incident a man called 9-1-1 and reported that he had been in a car accident but he wasn't sure where he was. He gave a rough idea of where he might have been driving at the time of the crash. The police and helicopters were dispatched across the city looking for the man. This time I heard and saw it from his perspective. "I see a field, and trees, a line of trees, he's away from the road. He's south not west. He's disoriented for some reason. The car went off the road". Of course, what do you do with that sort of information? You can't call the police, they'd think you were nuts. Well, after a couple hours the police received a call from a truck driver about suspicious damage alongside the road. It turns out, the intoxicated driver, heading in a southerly direction, lost control, went over the curb, down a hill, past a line of trees and ended up behind them, upside down, in a field. He wasn't seriously hurt, but he was recovering from his drinking binge when he called 9-1-1.
In a third instance, there was a young boy who got into an argument with his parents. He ran away and police were searching for him. I thought about him a moment and got "I'm so cold. I'm afraid. I see trees. I'm lost". I already knew he was dead, or dying at the time I sensed him. And, the police found him, out in the woods, no protective clothing. He froze to death. That was probably the saddest one I've had yet.
I've had a couple, what I would call, "temporary possessions", moments when I opened myself up or were the most vulnerable to strong emotions from shadows or past lives perhaps?
This is the scariest one. Many years back I attended a Christmas party. Now, those of you who know me today know that I don't drink much and I never drink enough to get intoxicated. This sobering effect is the result of that one night back in the early 2000's. I wasn't in a partying mood really but I went to the party anyways because my presence was 'expected'. After a couple hours I had managed to get several drinks in me of varying alcoholic content. Somewhere around eight glasses ranging from a shot to a highball I'd had quite enough - at least my stomach thought so.
It was around the time that I was getting ready to walk home that I felt a wave of emotion flow over me. I was literally incapacitated by the feeling that I was in someone else's body. My mind started playing out this role like I was watching it on a movie screen and I was powerless to stop or pause it. I was in a suit, nothing fancy, but a decent suit, dark blue, and I was walking out of my house. I remember seeing the street. It was a typical "American" suburb. I don't remember a lot of trees. I remember a large plain grass yard with a single strip of concrete slab sidewalk running down straight from the door to the sidewalk along the road. I vaguely remember a driveway beside me to my left. There was a car parked on the street, it looked like one from the 1960s. It was a sunny day, blue skies with very little cloud. I could feel the sunlight shine down on me as I went to leave the house. I remember hearing noise down the street, a kid playing perhaps. It was a typical morning. I heard and felt everything around me as though I were there in that scene, when in reality I was doubled over in the back parking lot trying to puke my guts out (I know, nice image eh).
I went to step out of the door, I didn't even have it closed behind me when a man quickly approached me from up the sidewalk. He was a tall, thin man with sandy brown hair and he was dressed like a blue collar worker, decent shirt and pants but not expensive. I went to speak to him as he approached and before I could say anything he took out a black handgun and shot me. I didn't feel any searing hot pain from the bullet. I felt cold, wet, a strange sensation in my upper body but I don’t think it was my chest, it was slightly lower. It was so fast, so unexpected. The next day my friend told me that, at the time, I was in tears and all I kept saying was "He shot me, why did he shoot me?" I remember feeling sadness and confusion. I don't know who he was or why he shot me. I know that “I”, whoever, was a law enforcement officer, maybe a US Marshall or FBI, located in Arizona. It wasn’t Phoenix, I’m thinking more like Maricopa or one of the smaller “city-like” communities, back in the mid-1960s. The funny thing about it is two of my friends that I met jokingly say that we met in our past lives. My one friend was a Hippie, the other an exotic dancer, and me, as a law enforcement officer somehow crossed paths with both of them.
Now, you can draw whatever conclusions you wish: 1) drunken imagination, 2) past-life, 3) past-life of a DNA (I’ll explain that another time), 4) ghostly possession. I don’t know.
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