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Your Supernatural Experiences

Started by MV/Liberace!, May 08, 2008, 12:36:40 AM

Parris001

Here's my deal.

We moved into a brand new house in 1972. I was 5. It was a ranch style house, and most of y'all will know how a typical ranch style house is laid out.

The first bedroom in the hallway had been furnished by my parents with the bedroom suite of a great aunt. The old lady always scared me in that way that old people usually frighten young kids. Couldn't put my finger on it, still can't. But the old lady gave me the creeps. And having the bedroom furniture from the room she died in moved into a bedroom in our new house scared the shit out of me. The room was always dark, always cold, and I'd run by the door every time I had to pass it.

Flash forward a few months, maybe a year. It's the middle off the night and its one of those hot, sticky North Carolina nights in the hottest past of the summer. A very vocal thunder storm has popped up and I'm awakened by a deafening crackle of thunder. For some odd and hard to explain reason I get the feeling for a split second that I'm not in my bed. In my head I have the feeling I'm in the spare bedroom in the bed where my creepy old great aunt died.

The power is out and I laid there for a second with my eyes open in the pitch dark and a ghostly, disembodied flame from a candle passes from left to right in front of my face. I let out a blood curdling scream and my parent came running into my room. And I am in fact in my own bed. But when my parents get there there are still several of these flames wafting through the air. Rolling off the bed and onto the floor. There were several.

In my memory there was no smoke. No sulfuric odor. No sizzling or popping. I thought it might be ball lightning but that seems to be fairly different from what I experienced.

Any thoughts?

Big Chicken

Quote from: Parris001 on September 24, 2017, 08:15:12 AM
Here's my deal.

We moved into a brand new house in 1972. I was 5. It was a ranch style house, and most of y'all will know how a typical ranch style house is laid out.

The first bedroom in the hallway had been furnished by my parents with the bedroom suite of a great aunt. The old lady always scared me in that way that old people usually frighten young kids. Couldn't put my finger on it, still can't. But the old lady gave me the creeps. And having the bedroom furniture from the room she died in moved into a bedroom in our new house scared the shit out of me. The room was always dark, always cold, and I'd run by the door every time I had to pass it.

Flash forward a few months, maybe a year. It's the middle off the night and its one of those hot, sticky North Carolina nights in the hottest past of the summer. A very vocal thunder storm has popped up and I'm awakened by a deafening crackle of thunder. For some odd and hard to explain reason I get the feeling for a split second that I'm not in my bed. In my head I have the feeling I'm in the spare bedroom in the bed where my creepy old great aunt died.

The power is out and I laid there for a second with my eyes open in the pitch dark and a ghostly, disembodied flame from a candle passes from left to right in front of my face. I let out a blood curdling scream and my parent came running into my room. And I am in fact in my own bed. But when my parents get there there are still several of these flames wafting through the air. Rolling off the bed and onto the floor. There were several.

In my memory there was no smoke. No sulfuric odor. No sizzling or popping. I thought it might be ball lightning but that seems to be fairly different from what I experienced.

Any thoughts?

The floating candle is not terribly unusual Parris - certainly not in the American South.   Not at all sure about the
feeling of lying in the other bed. 

The floating candle flame goes back to an incident at a house on King Street in Charleston during the Revolutionary War.   The owner of the house was openly Loyalist but secretly sided with the  Colonials. He had stocked his cellar with kegs of gun powder which was fine until the maid went down into the cellarwith a candle.  He managed to avert disaster but his mind was broken in the process.  All anyone could get out of him was babbling about candle flames and death. The legend has it that he spends all eternity going from house to house trying to snuff out the candle flame before the explosion and fire.   Usually he succeeds and the home and family are saved - sometimes he fails and home is lost in the night.   It would seem that on that hot summer night in 1972 he was successful in his task and your home was saved! 

You can learn more about this in Norman & Scott's Haunted Heritage: A Definitive Collection of North American Ghost Stories - Look for The Candle in section on The South.

Parris001

Quote from: Big Chicken on September 24, 2017, 09:12:33 AM
The floating candle is not terribly unusual Parris - certainly not in the American South.   Not at all sure about the
feeling of lying in the other bed. 

The floating candle flame goes back to an incident at a house on King Street in Charleston during the Revolutionary War.   The owner of the house was openly Loyalist but secretly sided with the  Colonials. He had stocked his cellar with kegs of gun powder which was fine until the maid went down into the cellarwith a candle.  He managed to avert disaster but his mind was broken in the process.  All anyone could get out of him was babbling about candle flames and death. The legend has it that he spends all eternity going from house to house trying to snuff out the candle flame before the explosion and fire.   Usually he succeeds and the home and family are saved - sometimes he fails and home is lost in the night.   It would seem that on that hot summer night in 1972 he was successful in his task and your home was saved! 

You can learn more about this in Norman & Scott's Haunted Heritage: A Definitive Collection of North American Ghost Stories - Look for The Candle in section on The South.

But what was the floating candle?  And in your experience, is it the whole candle or just the flame moving around the room?

As for the feeling of being misplaced in the house, I think that just speaks at to how horrified I was of that room and the furniture in it. Worst nightmare would to be to have to spend the night in that place. It was like a haunted house inside our house. Even after we turned it into a den years later I was uneasy in there for a time.

Big Chicken

Quote from: Parris001 on September 24, 2017, 12:31:14 PM
But what was the floating candle?  And in your experience, is it the whole candle or just the flame moving around the room?

As for the feeling of being misplaced in the house, I think that just speaks at to how horrified I was of that room and the furniture in it. Worst nightmare would to be to have to spend the night in that place. It was like a haunted house inside our house. Even after we turned it into a den years later I was uneasy in there for a time.

In my [admittedly limited] experience with this type of apparition it is  a full candle with flame that will be seen.  That is what the literature indicates and that is what I saw in my one experience with this type of phenomena.  Perhaps you experienced something different and of course your mileage may vary with these sorts of things.

Oh, before I forget.  Was this a one shot deal or have you been plagued with other incidents over the years?

Parris001

Quote from: Big Chicken on September 24, 2017, 04:37:01 PM
In my [admittedly limited] experience with this type of apparition it is  a full candle with flame that will be seen.  That is what the literature indicates and that is what I saw in my one experience with this type of phenomena.  Perhaps you experienced something different and of course your mileage may vary with these sorts of things.

Oh, before I forget.  Was this a one shot deal or have you been plagued with other incidents over the years?

Episodes of the unexplained have been few and far between. Wouldn't be fair to call it "plagued". But I've seen stuff that I can't understand.

Lately I've had night terrors.

Big Chicken

Quote from: Parris001 on September 24, 2017, 08:54:53 PM
Episodes of the unexplained have been few and far between. Wouldn't be fair to call it "plagued". But I've seen stuff that I can't understand.

Lately I've had night terrors.

Hoo boy.   Seems like you are in a 'in-between' place.  Not exactly footloose and fancy free but not in utter
torment and despair.  Big Chicken's advice would be to hold fast at this time as it seems like you are at least
holding your own.  If the night terrors increase in frequency you may have to get some outside assistance.

Unfortunately many of those that could have helped you have passed on - Lou Gentile, Ed Warren and Jack Chick
are deceased.   One remains.....   That is Pastor Butch Paugh.   The self-proclaimed "Hillbilly Preacher that walks
like a tank but talks like a machine gun"    He lives way up some holler in the mountains of West Virginia and
he has had great success with these types of issues.  You might be skeptical but check out the Succubus thread
right here on Bellgab.   A young man bit of more than he could chew so to speak.   I recommended Pastor
Butch and the young man was saved.


If you wish you could try to call into Pastor Butch's radio show - Call to Decision   He is on Saturday and Sunday nights from 6 to 8PM Central time - this is over on the
GCN Radio Network

Pastor Butch Paugh:

Parris001

Quote from: Big Chicken on September 25, 2017, 07:50:45 PM
Hoo boy.   Seems like you are in a 'in-between' place.  Not exactly footloose and fancy free but not in utter
torment and despair.  Big Chicken's advice would be to hold fast at this time as it seems like you are at least
holding your own.  If the night terrors increase in frequency you may have to get some outside assistance.

Unfortunately many of those that could have helped you have passed on - Lou Gentile, Ed Warren and Jack Chick
are deceased.   One remains.....   That is Pastor Butch Paugh.   The self-proclaimed "Hillbilly Preacher that walks
like a tank but talks like a machine gun"    He lives way up some holler in the mountains of West Virginia and
he has had great success with these types of issues.  You might be skeptical but check out the Succubus thread
right here on Bellgab.   A young man bit of more than he could chew so to speak.   I recommended Pastor
Butch and the young man was saved.


If you wish you could try to call into Pastor Butch's radio show - Call to Decision   He is on Saturday and Sunday nights from 6 to 8PM Central time - this is over on the
GCN Radio Network

Pastor Butch Paugh:


Thanks man. I'm not really being tormented. I just want to get a reading on what that was in my childhood that floated in front of my face.

Big Chicken

Quote from: Parris001 on September 25, 2017, 07:58:11 PM
Thanks man. I'm not really being tormented. I just want to get a reading on what that was in my childhood that floated in front of my face.

Fair enough.   You have got the info if you need it.   



BTW - Pastor Butch has an awesome intro song to his show.  This is War by The Paynes
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDaW9nEmKLY

Parris001

Here's another episode that happened though.

We have two girls. And at this point, they were visiting my parents out of state. So me and my wife had another couple over and her hung out to kinda late. Playing cards. No alcohol involved. Just two married couples sharing company.

They left kinda late and we went to bed. At about 3 in the morning we awoke to the smoke alarms going off. My eyes shot open and the house was filled with smoke. Total panic by me and the wife. I rushed through the downstairs to the stairway. The only thought in my mind was to get upstairs and get the girls and get out of the house. The whole house was full of smoke. I started up the stairs when it dawned on me that the kids were away. I was about halfway up the steps and I just stopped in my tracks. And at that same time the alarms quit going off. The smoke that had been there seconds earlier..........gone. I turned to my wife and asked, "did I just hear the smoke alarm going off"? She confirmed she'd heard it too. "And smoke....... I saw smoke. Was the whole downstairs filled with smoke"? Again, she confirmed.

Its hard to lay down and go back to sleep after being woke up by that. 

Swishypants

Two chicks at one time during my sophomore year of college is about as Supersexual as I ever got.

Parris001

Quote from: Swishypants on September 29, 2017, 02:36:44 PM
Two chicks at one time during my sophomore year of college is about as Supersexual as I ever got.

Sex with poultry............ always hot..........

Jojo

Quote from: Parris001 on September 24, 2017, 08:54:53 PM
Episodes of the unexplained have been few and far between. Wouldn't be fair to call it "plagued". But I've seen stuff that I can't understand.

Lately I've had night terrors.
Closed eyelids let in a significant amount of light.  So, sleeping with a light, party light, or even mini-flickering lit decoration can help reduce the vividity of visual sleep trauma.  Flickering, multi-colored things are best, like those battery-operated window decorations or toys.  Eyes needs darkness to rest, so these little pastel lights are better than sleeping with a big light or tv on.  Also, you can push a little toy away as you sleep, or pull it toward you (tie a ribbon on it for a handle).  Thats better for your sleep hygiene that having to lean over to turn out a lamp or get up to turn a switch off.

Jojo

Quote from: Parris001 on September 24, 2017, 08:15:12 AM
Here's my deal.

We moved into a brand new house in 1972. I was 5. It was a ranch style house, and most of y'all will know how a typical ranch style house is laid out.

The first bedroom in the hallway had been furnished by my parents with the bedroom suite of a great aunt. The old lady always scared me in that way that old people usually frighten young kids. Couldn't put my finger on it, still can't. But the old lady gave me the creeps. And having the bedroom furniture from the room she died in moved into a bedroom in our new house scared the shit out of me. The room was always dark, always cold, and I'd run by the door every time I had to pass it.

Flash forward a few months, maybe a year. It's the middle off the night and its one of those hot, sticky North Carolina nights in the hottest past of the summer. A very vocal thunder storm has popped up and I'm awakened by a deafening crackle of thunder. For some odd and hard to explain reason I get the feeling for a split second that I'm not in my bed. In my head I have the feeling I'm in the spare bedroom in the bed where my creepy old great aunt died.

The power is out and I laid there for a second with my eyes open in the pitch dark and a ghostly, disembodied flame from a candle passes from left to right in front of my face. I let out a blood curdling scream and my parent came running into my room. And I am in fact in my own bed. But when my parents get there there are still several of these flames wafting through the air. Rolling off the bed and onto the floor. There were several.

In my memory there was no smoke. No sulfuric odor. No sizzling or popping. I thought it might be ball lightning but that seems to be fairly different from what I experienced.

Any thoughts?

I think it is rare in children, but maybe you had a retina problem.  That would still be mysterious, in someone so young.  Ive seen retina peels in the shape of a flame but they were white.

Jojo

Quote from: zeebo on January 03, 2017, 03:30:30 AM
For whatever reason, over the last few weeks I recalled two specific Star Trek TNG episodes.  I remembered I had only ever seen them once each, and thought it would be cool to seem them again sometime.  I have no idea why they popped into my head, esp. since I haven't watched reruns of that show in many years.

Well for some other unknown reason, at two random times and *only* those two times recently, I noticed the show was on and felt like checking it out.  *Both times* I realized about halfway in that I was watching one of those two exact shows I'd remembered.  I was curious what the odds were of this happening, namely picking a specific pair out of the 178 total epi's, and the answer is 1 out of 15753.
Pretty impressive.  Ive merely been trying to swim, bathe, or take a dip in my dreams for over 5 years.  To no avail, usually.  Lots of water in dreams, never a problem there.  But all sorts of interference if i try to enjoy it.

Brody

http://culturecrossfire.com/etc/crime-mystery/my-ghost-hunt-of-greenville-station/

I ventured to a local 100+ year old saloon with the ghost hunters from my neck of the woods. We got a history lesson, and attempted to conjure up some spooks that are known to roam around the place. 

albrecht

The other day this happened. Was listening to a song and LMH somehow got into the recording! I'm pretty sure it was a bug when I was downloading or converting or something back when but still was very odd and somewhat jarring. Or there is a ghost in the machine, poltergeist, etc? Makes it a bit weirder because the recording was the first bit of "Kindertotenlieder" (songs for dead children) as done by Mahler after some poems of grief! Weird. Go to about 30 sec and you can hear LMH cut in! I cut the part out (took a bit to figure out how) so you can listen. Interesting, and weird.


ItsOver

Quote from: albrecht on April 05, 2018, 09:46:28 AM
The other day this happened. Was listening to a song and LMH somehow got into the recording! I'm pretty sure it was a bug when I was downloading or converting or something back when but still was very odd and somewhat jarring. Or there is a ghost in the machine, poltergeist, etc? Makes it a bit weirder because the recording was the first bit of "Kindertotenlieder" (songs for dead children) as done by Mahler after some poems of grief! Weird. Go to about 30 sec and you can hear LMH cut in! I cut the part out (took a bit to figure out how) so you can listen. Interesting, and weird.
High strangeness, indeed!  Let LMH know.  She may be knocking on your door, trusty recorder in hand!



"That's true!"

Gd5150

Quote from: albrecht on April 05, 2018, 09:46:28 AM
The other day this happened. Was listening to a song and LMH somehow got into the recording! I'm pretty sure it was a bug when I was downloading or converting or something back when but still was very odd and somewhat jarring. Or there is a ghost in the machine, poltergeist, etc? Makes it a bit weirder because the recording was the first bit of "Kindertotenlieder" (songs for dead children) as done by Mahler after some poems of grief! Weird. Go to about 30 sec and you can hear LMH cut in! I cut the part out (took a bit to figure out how) so you can listen. Interesting, and weird.

Bizarre. Her voice cut into that song like a rectal core anal probe.

albrecht

Quote from: Gd5150 on April 05, 2018, 10:49:21 AM
Bizarre. Her voice cut into that song like a rectal core anal probe.
Same night LMH, somehow, got cut into the Mahler piece there is some "high strangeness" in  Colorado.
http://denver.cbslocal.com/2018/04/04/rancher-mysterious-crater-sulphur/
Rancher Finds Mysterious Crater: ‘You Can Smell The Sulfur’ and missing bull




Jackstar

Quote from: Falkie2013 on September 14, 2011, 05:41:14 AM
I do not drink except for a bit of brandy in my tea when I have a cold, don't do drugs and am not prone to hallucinations.


What a loser.


Taco Bell

Quote from: Jackstar on April 29, 2018, 02:45:59 PM

What a loser.

Drugs cost money. That is one thing he doesn't have.

Jojo

A friend blazed a trail through huge blackberry bushes so we could evacuate a flood.  He held the vines.  We wet through a lot of bushes.  I got not one scratch or rip on my dress.

----

I was driving fast on a freeway approaching a modern bridge in Portland, OR.  The bridge was sloped too, not just the arch.  As I crested the slope, going southbound, I immediately was right up upon a pile-up of cars in two southbound lanes (incu!ding the one I was in) who had all rear-ended each other.  I had only enough time to slightly veer out, and missed a smash-up by a hair's breadth.  I felt horribly sad and awkward continuing on at 65MPH when all those cars in front of me had just crashed, and were probably still crashing.  But there was nowhere to pull over, no cell phones back then, and I was so grateful and relieved that even if I could have stopped to help, I probably would not have.

----

A woman harassed me at a public shower.  She called the cops.  I was not able to rinse soap off my groin for an hour.  It never burned.

----

I knew I had a vehicle pump issue, either the water pump or heat pump, but I didn't know that could take out my steering belt.  Well, it did.  My steering belt broke on a freeway at the junction of 3 freeways.  I had been going 65MPH when suddenly I couldn't steer.

I was very shook up, in the inside lane of three lanes, but no one got hurt or crashed.  I put on my flashers, the car gradually pulled to the right, and I accelerated and braked to avoid crashes.  Traffic was not heavy.

----

I was a kid doing my paper route collections and I just needed a $5 tip in order to finish my fund for summer camp registration.  I prayed for it as I went up the next driveway.  That customer (who I didn't know from Adam) gave me the $5, which was quite a tip in the 1970s.

----

I was in a dance club and saw a man stare at a glass on a long, straight shelf.  After he started staring at it, it moved three feet.  I never checked for magnets or any gimmick.  Seemed pretty real.

----

My old lab-wolf and I used to take walks all the time.  But one night, we were totally in sync.  Even though he cut out to go in yards and behind houses, we were keeping a united pace which felt remarkable and sacred.

----

I used to do group Irish dancing.  One night, in our "square", we started going in a circle holding hands (a common move), and something really goose bumpy happened.  It was like we truly had united, hard to explain.  I dismissed it to myself as me just feeling weird, but right after that song, another guy from our square asked the rest of is we felt it to.  Everyone said yes, and we all just kind of shook our heads because we couldn't explain or really understand it.

----

A lot of times when I am late, lost, or off base, it turns out someone there needs me (to give directions, to identify a malady, to witness abuse, or things like that).

Dr. MD MD

Quote from: Jojo on May 02, 2018, 02:18:25 AM
A friend blazed a trail through huge blackberry bushes so we could evacuate a flood.  He held the vines.  We wet through a lot of bushes.  I got not one scratch or rip on my dress.

----

I was driving fast on a freeway approaching a modern bridge in Portland, OR.  The bridge was sloped too, not just the arch.  As I crested the slope, going southbound, I immediately was right up upon a pile-up of cars in two southbound lanes (incu!ding the one I was in) who had all rear-ended each other.  I had only enough time to slightly veer out, and missed a smash-up by a hair's breadth.  I felt horribly sad and awkward continuing on at 65MPH when all those cars in front of me had just crashed, and were probably still crashing.  But there was nowhere to pull over, no cell phones back then, and I was so grateful and relieved that even if I could have stopped to help, I probably would not have.

----

A woman harassed me at a public shower.  She called the cops.  I was not able to rinse soap off my groin for an hour.  It never burned.

----

I knew I had a vehicle pump issue, either the water pump or heat pump, but I didn't know that could take out my steering belt.  Well, it did.  My steering belt broke on a freeway at the junction of 3 freeways.  I had been going 65MPH when suddenly I couldn't steer.

I was very shook up, in the inside lane of three lanes, but no one got hurt or crashed.  I put on my flashers, the car gradually pulled to the right, and I accelerated and braked to avoid crashes.  Traffic was not heavy.

----

I was a kid doing my paper route collections and I just needed a $5 tip in order to finish my fund for summer camp registration.  I prayed for it as I went up the next driveway.  That customer (who I didn't know from Adam) gave me the $5, which was quite a tip in the 1970s.

----

I was in a dance club and saw a man stare at a glass on a long, straight shelf.  After he started staring at it, it moved three feet.  I never checked for magnets or any gimmick.  Seemed pretty real.

----

My old lab-wolf and I used to take walks all the time.  But one night, we were totally in sync.  Even though he cut out to go in yards and behind houses, we were keeping a united pace which felt remarkable and sacred.

----

I used to do group Irish dancing.  One night, in our "square", we started going in a circle holding hands (a common move), and something really goose bumpy happened.  It was like we truly had united, hard to explain.  I dismissed it to myself as me just feeling weird, but right after that song, another guy from our square asked the rest of is we felt it to.  Everyone said yes, and we all just kind of shook our heads because we couldn't explain or really understand it.

----

A lot of times when I am late, lost, or off base, it turns out someone there needs me (to give directions, to identify a malady, to witness abuse, or things like that).

I think maybe you're misunderstanding the word supernatural. ;)

Rix Gins

I managed to contact Art's spirit.  It took three separate attempts, so first things first...

The first attempt was made within 24 hours of Art's death.  I sat down and focused on him, and then emptied my mind as best I could.  (This leaves a residual 'image' of sorts like seeing something bright and then closing your eyes. you still see the image.)  So I crossed over into the spirit realm and found myself standing in a room.  Nothing there except a big wooden door on a wall.  It had carved squares within squares and I took this to be some sort of puzzle.  I couldn't figure out how the puzzle was to be played because, allow me to introduce myself, I am absolutely the worst solver of puzzles in the entire world.  So I walked around the room and spoke aloud, "I am requesting permission to speak with the recently deceased Arthur Bell."  A nicely painted red box appeared, floating before me so I took it in hand and opened it.  Inside was a piece of paper and on it, a single word had been written.  "NO."

The second attempt took place several days later.  I entered the realm and spoke briefly with my mom.  Mom died on New Years Day, in the year 2000, and is still residing in the realm, offering spiritual guidance to some of my nephews and nieces.  (Note, that's why Mom is still there, otherwise she would most likely be gone on assignment, read, living another life on Earth or some other habitable world.  "Hi Mom," I greeted her with a hug.  "I was wondering, where do I find the new admissions station?"  "Oh, I'm really not sure," she answered.  "Tell you what, why don't you ask Bud, he might know and besides, he's got a car.  You'll have to excuse me, Son.  I'm feeling a little under the weather."  Mom crawled into a big hospital like bed and went to sleep.  So I contacted Bud (a friend of the family who got rip roaring drunk one night, many years ago, and who drove his big 1950's pickup over the side of a road and down a cliff, killing him and his Native American girlfriend.)  "Sure I can drive you there,"  He said.  Get in."  So I climbed into his spiritual car, kind of a square, clear plastic vehicle with no apparent motor.  "I know where the new folks arrive," he boasted.  "Who you looking for?"  "Oh, a man by the name of Art..."  I couldn't finish my sentence because Bud mashed his foot against the spiritual gas pedal and we were instantly roaring down a street.  Bud was a lousy driver.  We would come to a corner and he wouldn't think to turn until we were almost crossed all the way over on the corner.  But he did know where we were going.  I could see up ahead a long line of people who were slowly walking into a fairly large, glowing white building.  Bud didn't slow down, and he drove right through the people, who took no notice of us because we sailed right through them, as if we were invisible and didn't exist.  Bud kept on driving until everything went dark and I lost my connection.

The third attempt was made several nights ago.  I figured I would try something else this time, so I crossed over once again, late at night, and found myself standing by Art's home in Pahrump.  I thought that there might just be a possibility that Art's spirit would be visiting his old residence, and sure enough, there he was, looking the place over.  There was another spiritual being there, a bearded man in a robe, and he approached me.  "Can I talk to Art?"  I asked him.  The being didn't speak, but his face broke out in a broad grin and he nodded his head in a sign of yes.  So I approached Art.  "Hi Art." I said.  He looked at me and said, "Hi."  "How are you getting along?" I asked.  "Oh fine," he answered.  "Just fine."  He pointed over to the bearded man and chuckled.  "Though I don't know how I'm going to pay for all this top of the line counselling I've been getting."  "I think that's a spirit guide, Art," I told him.  "They work for free."  "Well I hope so." he said, while turning his attention back to his home.  "If you don't mind my asking Art, how exactly did you pass away?"  "Oh I don't mind answering that," he said.  "I was walking down a hall in there, munching away at a cookie.  I dropped the cookie and bent over to pick it up and the next think I know, darkness.  When I came to I was in a big bath tub and some people were scrubbing away at me.  I've got to say, it was the most refreshing bath I've ever had.  Then I was in a line with some other people and we went into a big white building."  It was at this point that I noticed that my time with Art was growing short.  It was getting light outside.  All I could think to ask him was, "So tell me, any regrets, or things you wanted to do but didn't get done?"  "Oh sure," he said.  "I wanted an elevator."  I looked at his house with a puzzled look.  "And I wanted a big flat rock hauled in from the desert and placed right over there." he said, pointing to a sandy area of his yard.  Then Art, the bearded man and I disappeared in unison.       

GravitySucks

Quote from: Rix Gins on May 06, 2018, 01:58:51 AM
I managed to contact Art's spirit.  It took three separate attempts, so first things first...

The first attempt was made within 24 hours of Art's death.  I sat down and focused on him, and then emptied my mind as best I could.  (This leaves a residual 'image' of sorts like seeing something bright and then closing your eyes. you still see the image.)  So I crossed over into the spirit realm and found myself standing in a room.  Nothing there except a big wooden door on a wall.  It had carved squares within squares and I took this to be some sort of puzzle.  I couldn't figure out how the puzzle was to be played because, allow me to introduce myself, I am absolutely the worst solver of puzzles in the entire world.  So I walked around the room and spoke aloud, "I am requesting permission to speak with the recently deceased Arthur Bell."  A nicely painted red box appeared, floating before me so I took it in hand and opened it.  Inside was a piece of paper and on it, a single word had been written.  "NO."

The second attempt took place several days later.  I entered the realm and spoke briefly with my mom.  Mom died on New Years Day, in the year 2000, and is still residing in the realm, offering spiritual guidance to some of my nephews and nieces.  (Note, that's why Mom is still there, otherwise she would most likely be gone on assignment, read, living another life on Earth or some other habitable world.  "Hi Mom," I greeted her with a hug.  "I was wondering, where do I find the new admissions station?"  "Oh, I'm really not sure," she answered.  "Tell you what, why don't you ask Bud, he might know and besides, he's got a car.  You'll have to excuse me, Son.  I'm feeling a little under the weather."  Mom crawled into a big hospital like bed and went to sleep.  So I contacted Bud (a friend of the family who got rip roaring drunk one night, many years ago, and who drove his big 1950's pickup over the side of a road and down a cliff, killing him and his Native American girlfriend.)  "Sure I can drive you there,"  He said.  Get in."  So I climbed into his spiritual car, kind of a square, clear plastic vehicle with no apparent motor.  "I know where the new folks arrive," he boasted.  "Who you looking for?"  "Oh, a man by the name of Art..."  I couldn't finish my sentence because Bud mashed his foot against the spiritual gas pedal and we were instantly roaring down a street.  Bud was a lousy driver.  We would come to a corner and he wouldn't think to turn until we were almost crossed all the way over on the corner.  But he did know where we were going.  I could see up ahead a long line of people who were slowly walking into a fairly large, glowing white building.  Bud didn't slow down, and he drove right through the people, who took no notice of us because we sailed right through them, as if we were invisible and didn't exist.  Bud kept on driving until everything went dark and I lost my connection.

The third attempt was made several nights ago.  I figured I would try something else this time, so I crossed over once again, late at night, and found myself standing by Art's home in Pahrump.  I thought that there might just be a possibility that Art's spirit would be visiting his old residence, and sure enough, there he was, looking the place over.  There was another spiritual being there, a bearded man in a robe, and he approached me.  "Can I talk to Art?"  I asked him.  The being didn't speak, but his face broke out in a broad grin and he nodded his head in a sign of yes.  So I approached Art.  "Hi Art." I said.  He looked at me and said, "Hi."  "How are you getting along?" I asked.  "Oh fine," he answered.  "Just fine."  He pointed over to the bearded man and chuckled.  "Though I don't know how I'm going to pay for all this top of the line counselling I've been getting."  "I think that's a spirit guide, Art," I told him.  "They work for free."  "Well I hope so." he said, while turning his attention back to his home.  "If you don't mind my asking Art, how exactly did you pass away?"  "Oh I don't mind answering that," he said.  "I was walking down a hall in there, munching away at a cookie.  I dropped the cookie and bent over to pick it up and the next think I know, darkness.  When I came to I was in a big bath tub and some people were scrubbing away at me.  I've got to say, it was the most refreshing bath I've ever had.  Then I was in a line with some other people and we went into a big white building."  It was at this point that I noticed that my time with Art was growing short.  It was getting light outside.  All I could think to ask him was, "So tell me, any regrets, or things you wanted to do but didn't get done?"  "Oh sure," he said.  "I wanted an elevator."  I looked at his house with a puzzled look.  "And I wanted a big flat rock hauled in from the desert and placed right over there." he said, pointing to a sandy area of his yard.  Then Art, the bearded man and I disappeared in unison.     

👍🏼

Dyna-X

Quote from: Rix Gins on May 06, 2018, 01:58:51 AM
I managed to contact Art's spirit.  It took three separate attempts, so first things first...

The first attempt was made within 24 hours of Art's death.  I sat down and focused on him, and then emptied my mind as best I could.  (This leaves a residual 'image' of sorts like seeing something bright and then closing your eyes. you still see the image.)  So I crossed over into the spirit realm and found myself standing in a room.  Nothing there except a big wooden door on a wall.  It had carved squares within squares and I took this to be some sort of puzzle.  I couldn't figure out how the puzzle was to be played because, allow me to introduce myself, I am absolutely the worst solver of puzzles in the entire world.  So I walked around the room and spoke aloud, "I am requesting permission to speak with the recently deceased Arthur Bell."  A nicely painted red box appeared, floating before me so I took it in hand and opened it.  Inside was a piece of paper and on it, a single word had been written.  "NO."

The second attempt took place several days later.  I entered the realm and spoke briefly with my mom.  Mom died on New Years Day, in the year 2000, and is still residing in the realm, offering spiritual guidance to some of my nephews and nieces.  (Note, that's why Mom is still there, otherwise she would most likely be gone on assignment, read, living another life on Earth or some other habitable world.  "Hi Mom," I greeted her with a hug.  "I was wondering, where do I find the new admissions station?"  "Oh, I'm really not sure," she answered.  "Tell you what, why don't you ask Bud, he might know and besides, he's got a car.  You'll have to excuse me, Son.  I'm feeling a little under the weather."  Mom crawled into a big hospital like bed and went to sleep.  So I contacted Bud (a friend of the family who got rip roaring drunk one night, many years ago, and who drove his big 1950's pickup over the side of a road and down a cliff, killing him and his Native American girlfriend.)  "Sure I can drive you there,"  He said.  Get in."  So I climbed into his spiritual car, kind of a square, clear plastic vehicle with no apparent motor.  "I know where the new folks arrive," he boasted.  "Who you looking for?"  "Oh, a man by the name of Art..."  I couldn't finish my sentence because Bud mashed his foot against the spiritual gas pedal and we were instantly roaring down a street.  Bud was a lousy driver.  We would come to a corner and he wouldn't think to turn until we were almost crossed all the way over on the corner.  But he did know where we were going.  I could see up ahead a long line of people who were slowly walking into a fairly large, glowing white building.  Bud didn't slow down, and he drove right through the people, who took no notice of us because we sailed right through them, as if we were invisible and didn't exist.  Bud kept on driving until everything went dark and I lost my connection.

The third attempt was made several nights ago.  I figured I would try something else this time, so I crossed over once again, late at night, and found myself standing by Art's home in Pahrump.  I thought that there might just be a possibility that Art's spirit would be visiting his old residence, and sure enough, there he was, looking the place over.  There was another spiritual being there, a bearded man in a robe, and he approached me.  "Can I talk to Art?"  I asked him.  The being didn't speak, but his face broke out in a broad grin and he nodded his head in a sign of yes.  So I approached Art.  "Hi Art." I said.  He looked at me and said, "Hi."  "How are you getting along?" I asked.  "Oh fine," he answered.  "Just fine."  He pointed over to the bearded man and chuckled.  "Though I don't know how I'm going to pay for all this top of the line counselling I've been getting."  "I think that's a spirit guide, Art," I told him.  "They work for free."  "Well I hope so." he said, while turning his attention back to his home.  "If you don't mind my asking Art, how exactly did you pass away?"  "Oh I don't mind answering that," he said.  "I was walking down a hall in there, munching away at a cookie.  I dropped the cookie and bent over to pick it up and the next think I know, darkness.  When I came to I was in a big bath tub and some people were scrubbing away at me.  I've got to say, it was the most refreshing bath I've ever had.  Then I was in a line with some other people and we went into a big white building."  It was at this point that I noticed that my time with Art was growing short.  It was getting light outside.  All I could think to ask him was, "So tell me, any regrets, or things you wanted to do but didn't get done?"  "Oh sure," he said.  "I wanted an elevator."  I looked at his house with a puzzled look.  "And I wanted a big flat rock hauled in from the desert and placed right over there." he said, pointing to a sandy area of his yard.  Then Art, the bearded man and I disappeared in unison.     

So vivid. Good job recording this. I guess that would imply he died of a blackout possibly a concussion - I'm sure the autopsy will confirm this. Sounds like he's in good hands helping him sort through all the craziness and wash away everything that was projected on to him. The elevator is probably metaphorical - the rock probably a real idea. He may have mentioned that to Ayrin at some point.


Rix Gins

Quote from: Dyna-X on May 06, 2018, 03:16:24 AM
So vivid. Good job recording this. I guess that would imply he died of a blackout possibly a concussion - I'm sure the autopsy will confirm this. Sounds like he's in good hands helping him sort through all the craziness and wash away everything that was projected on to him. The elevator is probably metaphorical - the rock probably a real idea. He may have mentioned that to Ayrin at some point.

Thank you Dyna.  I really like your interpretations of what Art said.  I was kind of thinking that Art might have been relating a dream that he was having, because if he died in his sleep, that might have been the last thing he 'saw.'   

Jojo

Quote from: Dr. MD MD on May 03, 2018, 11:49:46 PM
I think maybe you're misunderstanding the word supernatural. ;)
You try walking through unmanaged 8' blackberry briers for 5 minutes (and do, ok?)  and see if you come out without a hitch or a scratch on your clothes.  Something supernatural was definitely going on.

And, for that soap not to burn me for almost an hour was a true miracle.  I've been burned harshly in just a few minutes before - you have to rinse that stuff fast.  Yes, try that one too - use deodorant soap, even better!  Now!

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