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Voices from the beyond?


Clematis

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Wishful thinking?  Perhaps, but perhaps not!

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1 hour ago, KATPILOT said:

Without faith, even the obvious may get passed by.

That is so true.

I am not sure I am ready for a medium yet.  I don't know if I am a believer or an unbeliever.  I am a scared person for sure.  Faith is there, it is just a lot shallower than it used to be.    

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On April 22, 2016 at 11:50 AM, kayc said:

I was always a skeptic but have become more of a believer as time has gone by.  I always believed in afterlife, just not the ability to communicate meanwhile.  I don't get audible voices or anything, but do feel I carry my husband inside of me, in a way that's hard to explain.  Recently I was having a really bad day and I physically felt his hand on my back/shoulder area...it was a time I really needed it and it was very comforting & encouraging, as if he was trying to reassure me.  

I think these things are meant to help and encourage us and should be received as such.

I just read this...I think somehow I missed part of it before-the part about feeling you husband's hand on your back/shoulder. That is so sweet!

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Wishful thinking? I don't think so...and I don't think it's my imagination either. I have heard some things from my dad that sound just like him, but not from the past-it's new material. When he was alive, especially toward the end, he was really slow to answer the phone. Sometimes he would have left his cell phone in this bed ing the morning and wasn't answering the house phone for some reason. Well he did have Parkinson's. I'd call him over and over, sometimes call a neighbor or the police to check on him if I was out on the reservation or something. When I finally got to talk to him I'd say, "Why didn't you answer the phone? I thought you were dead!" And he would say, "No-sorry-not today!" Hahaha...the guy had a weird sense of humor. So. several weeks after he had died, I was moping around in the grocery store, feeling sad that I couldn't call him to see if he needed anything. Clear as a bell, I heard him say, "Go ahead and call me-I won't answer. It'll be like old times!" Real funny, dad...

Most of what I have heard has been practical advice, like I need to be careful with my money because he can't rescue me anymore. One day they  were predicting a big snowstorm in the area that I travel through to get to the reservation where I work two days a week. I couldn't decide if I should go to work anyway, or if I should call in and explain that I wasn't going that day. He told me to sleep in and write an email the night before.

Tomorrow there is a wind advisory in the area I travel through (a 2-1/2 hour drive) and I am supposed to go out there tomorrow. They are expecting winds of 25-35 mph with gusts up to 55 mph. The first part of my drive is sheltered by a canyon and trees, the second part is a major highway with heavy traffic-lots of semis, and the last and largest part is super wide open flat where the wind can really get going (and it also has more than a fair amount of drunk drivers). I have been out there and had the wind suddenly almost whip my dar off the road. 

I am sitting here watching the wind whip the roses around on the back porch at my dad's house today (and it will be worse tomorrow). I am thinking maybe I should go anyway, and he has several things to say about it. "You just don't need to be out there." "Remember that day you were out there and all the trucks were lined up on the sides of the highway-this is likely to be worse than that" "Do you know when they are talking about possible property damage and hazardous conditions, that means some of that property may be flying through the air?" "Do you remember when you had a collision with a camper shell that blew off someone's pickup?" "Tell me again, what do they pay you out at that school?"

I think he's right-they can probably do without me tomorrow.

 

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Laura,

It wasn't wishful thinking that I felt my husband's hand on my shoulder/back area.  Wishful thinking & I wouldn't have had to wait nearly 11 years for it!

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And with the weather like that, I hope you're listening to your dad!  We're supposed to get snow tonight & tomorrow and it might amount to nothing, you never know, but I got my work done at the church office after our meeting today so I don't have to go in.

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1 hour ago, kayc said:

And with the weather like that, I hope you're listening to your dad!  We're supposed to get snow tonight & tomorrow and it might amount to nothing, you never know, but I got my work done at the church office after our meeting today so I don't have to go in.

Yes, I'm not driving to the reservation. I'll try to make up the day in May if I can, and tomorrow I'll work on my reports for the other school where I work as a school psychologist. I've been wondering how I would find the time...

Nice to have Dad still looking after me... good luck with the snow!

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Good for you Laura. They may give us messages but we are the one's who must choose to listen.

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Another bonus that blew in with this particular wind...I had a friend of 30 years who decided to stop speaking to me. I think the level of my grief was too much for her and she had a meltdown towards me. She has her issues (a little paranoia and volatility?) and things have been off and on all along. I think she's fragile in some way and limited as what she can take. Of the two of us, I am definitely the stronger and I have learned over the years that after she blows up, she recovers and we can go on, even though she never apologizes or admits any fault. Nevertheless, the gaps in contact have gone from a year or more to much less-like a week!. Slowly, however, I think she is gaining some insight into things, and the bottom line is that she is as important to me as my family. Losing her right after losing my dad, my aunt, and contact with my sisters was hell.

Anyway, I called her to ask her advice about the wind and the weather and she was friendly as could be. This is good-we're back on. I just have to remember to keep things light. Having a friendship with her is like walking through a mine field with a magical unicorn, but the mines are getting scarcer, and keeping her is better for me than losing her...

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I've learned about friendships that we all have different expectations and different levels of what we'll give or tolerate.  Some friends we send Christmas cards to, some we can tell anything to, some we can count on to help us out, but they're all different levels.  It's important to know what is a deal breaker and what we can overlook, and be true to ourselves in who we have as a friend. :) 

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Laura,

I like your signature!

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I like that, Kay, and it's so true! B and I had this last disagreement because I was talking about how my house had gone from it's usual level of creative clutter to an absolute trainwreck/landslide over the last few years because I spent so much time involved in my dad's care. She said no, that I was a hoarder and so was my dad. Well she was just dead wrong. My dad wasn't a hoarder; he had advanced Parkinson's disease and was too tired to get the magazines off the floor or the boxes off the stove. Once I boxed him into paying for a housekeeper, it was hugely better, and he liked being in a livable house (although half of it was still a giant mess. I'm not one either; hoarders don't beg and pay people to help them jettison tons of stuff. When I disagreed, she just went over the edge. I'll have to remember to not mention hoarders for awhile...

But B's friendship is of extreme value to me. She was my first fan-of my painting. She is a classical guitarist and a serious musician. We learned about art as young adults by her talking about painting with a musical vocabulary and I talked about music with painterly terms because it was the only vocabulary we had. Over the years we developed our understanding of the world and art by talking, looking and listening. We would lie on our backs together listening to Pablo Casals and Janos Starker and tease out what was style vs. technique vs. personal interpretation in the way they played one movement from a Bach Cello Suite. She would look at my paintings and talk about the rhythm, the tempo and the dynamics...

One day, at least a decade ago B looked at me out of the blue and said, "I know what you're thinking." Huh? I hadn't painted in a number of years as I developed my career, went through two graduate programs and focused on a relationship that made me totally nuts (long over now). "Yeah", she said, "You think that you're going wait until you retire and start painting and it's going to be really great. But you're wrong. If you wait until you retire, it will be too late to ever develop the chops to be the artist you've dreamed of being since you were twelve. You have to start now so that by the time you retire and have the time to paint like you want, you're ready to go after it" I realized she was right and I started painting. Do you see what I mean? Her having a blowup over a definition of hoarding is like a pea sitting next to a whale. She is a huge part of almost everything that I am...

 

'

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Here's another thing I probably never mentioned...I have synesthesia-like Kandinsky, and my music and are are totally intermingled. Even though I may be painting a flower or a guitar or a cello or my cat of all of that, ultimately I am always painting music. It is my subject matter and the way I interpret everything. There are different kinds of synesthesia. Kandinsky heard colors, some people see music, and so on...the senses are intermingled. When I listen to music-especially classical music-I don't see, but sense three dimensional lines. I don't even have to hear the music-it can be playing in the background in my mind-but the lines come out in the painting, all by themselves. I have learned to suppress this while I work on other parts of the painting, but ultimately the lines get in there...For me, painting is like my soul breathing, and if I'm not painting something is seriously wrong. But sometimes I get caught up in other things and stop painting. Having B in my life is like someone who can remind me to breathe... She is also like a mirror, although sometimes she is just wrong. Although I realize that it could happen some day that I may have to survive without her, she is worth putting up with a few tantrums here and there.

Somehow I think I see the world through my painting...it's like how it becomes real. I lost my job in 2009 and was so devastated I would lie on the floor with my cello next to me some days and wait to stop breathing. I didn't see how I could go on (even though my dad was essentially carrying me-I wasn't sure at that point that I could trust him. I was sure I would just expire. Nevertheless I still got up every morning and practiced the guitar and/or the cello for three hours before I did anything. My painting was very dark and somewhat deranged. I kept thinking about how depressed I was. Then one day I looked at some light sunny flowery thing I had painted and realized, no one would ever think the woman who painted that was depressed. "Oh, I must not be be depressed any longer", I thought. At that time B and I were not communicating. If we had, I probably would have gotten to that realization a lot sooner. See what I mean? It's an unusual friendship.

Anyway, thanks for listening!

Thanks for listening..._MG_3495.JPG 

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I have a dear friend, Jim, that has a huge artistic side...and not much on the other side of the brain.  Oh he's extremely intelligent, but horrible with paperwork and other mundane details.  And a terrible procrastinator.  For someone as organized as I am, a numbers person, it's hard to understand how a person can let go and ignore taking care of life or themselves like that.  But it's really about being left brained or right brained.  Yet as organized and detailed as I am, some would consider me a hoarder.  Not like one on t.v.  I know where everything is, and I suppose I could say it's organized clutter.  I don't know why I'm that way, maybe all of the years of working full time and commuting a long distance and never having time to keep up with it and then feel overwhelmed and not knowing where to start...but I don't worry too much about it.  I figure someday I'll move out and take what I want and need and then come back and just get rid of the rest.  It sounds like an organized plan at least. :)  Once in a while when the mood strikes I'll tackle a section.  Mostly it's my cardmaking room that has taken over.  I can see a card in anything.  I've made them out of sand, out of toilet paper, out of dryer lint, and so I save what I can use someday.  But I can have overboard tendencies.  Okay, I admitted more than I'm comfortable admitting to the world.  But my house is livable at least.

It's good you have a friend that means so much to you, that understands you, that you value enough to overlook some of the parts you don't like...as most of us have to do with our friends, because none of us are perfect.

I had to look up  synesthesia-like Kandinsky, never having heard of it before.  I don't know if it is something you're born with or if it develops later.

My friend, Jim, is Aspergers and it accounts for much of his idiosyncrasies.  I've learned to accept them as just being part of him, and he is a wonderful person, and so I don't let his excessiveness distract me.  I do have to mete out what I can handle though.  He used to own a burlesque place, and I can really see him doing that.  He is very artistic and very perfectionist, he wants every little detail to be just right.  It's part of his vision, how he sees things.  But he'll go in spurts...one year he might be obsessing with computers, the next year something else.  The last couple of years it's been K-pop.  That is enough to drive any of us nuts.  I realize it will probably pass but most of us can't take watching much more K-pop with him, which of course he wants to share with us.  It will be something else, I realize, in time, although I think this has lasted the longest.  He studies the choreography, learns Korean, memorizes everything and critiques their every move...and cried when one of them commit suicide.  He has a whole host of emotions and yet with the rest of us, the living breathing real people in his life, sometimes it's as if there's a disconnect.  That's how Aspergers is.  I've accepted it as just how he is, he is such a wonderful valuable human being that it is very worthwhile being part of his life, even as different as it might be sometimes.  I worry about him because balance does not seem to be part of his vocabulary.  He might go without sleep for a couple of days and then sleep a couple.  He might eat himself into oblivion or go without eating.  For that reason I worry.  Yet somehow he's managed to live 61 years with a whole lot less medication than I have.  I credit a lot of that to good genes.  But now that he has CHF, I worry.

I say all this to say that sometimes we have a friend that is different, not perfect according to someone else's standards, and yet none of that matters because to us they are very important.  And that's the wonderful thing about friendship.

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I think that some are really really really really really wanting to hear from their loved ones so so much that they'd go to mediums & want to hear from them so desperately.     I just lost my mother on the 15th, & have no plans to go to a medium.   I don't trust mediums, most of them are phony.  

As for the afterlife, no one living on this planet can tell me what's next after we die.   Yes, there are some that have died & came back to tell about it, but they either 1. Want to get rich (Like the pastor's boy who died, saw Heaven, came back, then the father a wrote a book, which was made into a movie) "Heaven Is For Real".   The pastor had doubts at first though...which sounded kinda odd considering he's a PASTOR.   Aren't leaders of churches supposed to believe in places like this?   But anyway, I found the whole story fishy.   If an atheist wrote the story, I think I'd believe it more.   Speaking of which...I read an article on an atheist dying & coming back to life & told what happened...he saw nothing.   He said nothing happens after we die.   I find that fishy as well...because an atheist WOULD say that.     So what happens after we die?    No one knows for sure, not even the highest religious leader in the whole world has seen it for himself.  There is a bunch of literature about it, of course, but has anybody alive really truly seen what lies beyond our realm of existence?    There could be a Heaven, maybe not with golden gates & St. Peter on an altar looking in a big book & checking off names as the newly deceased check in.   There could be a beautiful place where we meet up with family members that have gone before us.   There could just be a peaceful white light for our souls to rest in.    There could be reincarnation.   There could be lots of neat things.    I have pondered this, reading literature about this, & the many beliefs people have...even atheists.   I can see why hardly anyone would want to believe in an eternal unconscious blissful state...that sounds horrid.   I think that's why people turn to religion, it's a nice soft comforting pillow, makes them more at ease when they think about death.     To me, beliefs & truths are 2 separate things.     I HOPE there's something great after we die, I really do....but the reality of it is, I have no clue until I die & find out for myself.    My mom passed this month on the 15th.   After my sister died, in 1988,  my parents turned their backs on religion.    Now my mom knows the truth.  They didn't really believe in the paranormal neither.   I loved reading about it, but never experienced 1 thing in my whole life...but my grandmother had told me stories about her mother experiencing something & seeing someone right after they die would never be lied about with my great-grandmother, she was a strict lady.    So while I do believe in the paranormal ("a million cases can't all be hoaxes" is my saying), I can't say truthfully it's real because I've never experienced a thing.  Some are very sensitive to spirits & see them easily...so they say...some aren't so sensitive.   You need to debunk everything to make sure it's a real paranormal event.   Like what was written about electricity blinking...that could just be a strange coincidence of faulty wiring.    I'll give you an example.   This happened to me only once.   When I was about 11, I moved out of the room I shared with my sister into my 2 brothers' room, they went off to boot camp in the Navy.   My parents bought a touch lamp for me, for my new bedroom.   Touch lamps are lamps, when you wanna turn it on dim, you touch it once...touch it again, it'll get brighter, touch it again, it'll be at its brightest, touch it 1 more time it'll turn off.    One night I woke up around 1.   I couldn't fall asleep again, so I laid on my back for a bit...& the lamp was at it's brightest..the color of the cover was dark red.  So even at its brightest, the room wouldn't be that bright....I just needed light in my room cuz I started to read books on the paranormal, & watched Amityville, The Entity, The Omen, etc.    So anyway, I was laying on my back, looking at everything, until suddenly on the farthest upper corner of my room, a flash of light with a crack sound...almost as if a firecracker had gone off.  It freaked me out, but the second after that happened, the touch lamp started to activate by itself & it wouldn't stop.   So I ran to my sister's room, nearly dragged her outta bed & had her see it from the other end of the hall, we both freaked, closed the door & pulled the covers over us & went to sleep.   The next morning I woke up, I opened the door of my sister's room & slowly peaked at my room down the hall.  The lamp was at its dimmest lighting.     No one died at the time of the event, & from time to time we had a rat or 2, maybe a chipmunk in the attic...so maybe it was an electricity problem, it never happened again.

 

So, in closing, don't always believe the first thing that comes to your mind.   Wind enter houses in the winter even though everything is closed, a few doors can close by themselves, & electricity isn't always perfect...& odd coincidences can happen.   

 

1620364_868440179897135_9210166671247167930_n.png

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You say you have an interest in the paranormal and yet decry what others write about their experiences.  It's good to keep an open mind and respect others even if they differ from your opinion.

The parents of that kid (Heaven is for real) never should have let it go as far as it did...one of them later said they had wondered.  Can you imagine the egg on their faces when it had to be recanted?!  :o

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One can have an interest in the paranormal & have an open mind about paranormal events, or events that seem paranormal.   Just giving my opinion on things like that & question everything, & try to debunk it every way possible before labeling/stamping it paranormal.    It could very well been what she thought those experiences were, but I hope she checked everything before coming to that conclusion.

 

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Kay, your house sounds like mine...and for a lot of the same reasons. If I spent most of my days at home practicing the guitar and only had to work a couple of days a week teaching guitar lessons like my friend B, my house would look different than it does-same as you. Hoarders by definition keep stuff that has no purpose or possible use, like pieces of string, rubber bands, pictures of people you don't even know, stacks of newspapers, and that sort of thing. If you keep five copies of a newspaper that has your picture in it-or your grandchild or spouse-that's normal.  If you have waist-high stacks of newspapers you keep for no reason and would go into a panic if someone tried to get rid of them, that's different. I have a friend in Tucson who is a bonafide hoarder. We went to graduate school together but I had never been to his house. Then one year I desperately wanted to go down there for the gem show and needed a place to stay so I begged him if I could stay at his house. He was reluctant, but we both really wanted to see each other and so he said ok. We both work in mental health and so he knew as soon as I walked in the door that I knew what I was looking at. We laughed about it a little and I asked him how he managed to clear out the bed I was to sleep in (although there were piles of stuff all around it). He laughed and said he had worked really hard on it. I had brought a little cooler with me and had the thought I would put my little cooler freeze things in his freezer. He kind of laughed and said he didn't think it would work. I opened up the freezer door and every inch was packed with really old stuff that all had freezer burn-not one thing in there was edible. I looked at my little freezer blocks and he laughed and said, "Yeah, I know. But don't worry-we'll just go buy you some ice before you leave to go to Sedona."  It was interesting, but it didn't change what I thought about him or my gratitude about being able to stay with him and be able to attend the gem show. I think it's a bad thing that people have created TV shows about the rare condition of hoarding because people find it titillating. True hoarders are people with a serious mental health condition that cripples them. They shouldn't be put on display and we have the end result that people who really don't know anything think they can diagnose the disorder. But that's our world, huh?

I have a rather balanced (led-right) brain, but also some ADHD. All that music, art and creative writing, but I am also gifted in math, love science-especially chemistry, and when I have a problem that stumps me, my first go-to for help is to make a spreadsheet about it. One semester in college I was given an award in art for my watercolors, and the next semester I received an award for math but teacher who seldom ever gave an award to anyone because of a paper I wrote on the derivation of the 12-tone scale. This was accompanied by a presentation where I taught my classmates how to calculate the distance between the frets on several fretted instruments using the formula using the 12th root of two. I was so excited when I did my presentation that I stumbled on the math part a bit and my teacher laughed and had to help explain it in so that my classmates could do the math I had presented.

I loved what you said about your friend Jim. He sounds like an amazing person-and also very bright. He is probably out on the end of the bell curve in aptitude in several areas, and that makes for a a person who is very different, and a lot of people do not tolerate that very well. I think it's worth hanging onto someone like him-or my friend- even though they may have behaviors that you wouldn't tolerate in someone else.

Say, what did you think about my painting of the guitar with the blood running across the strings?

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& KayC, K-Pop is annoying.  I have a friend on Facebook so addicted to K-Pop, I don't get it.      I've listened to some YouTube videos & I don't get the attraction to it.  

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O.k., since we are opening up to our disabilities, I have Moebius Syndrome, it's a disorder that affects the facial nerves.  Some have no movement on their entire face, others have partial movement, like me, I can smile on my left side & close my left eye, but can't do anything on my left side of my face.   It also affects a limb or 2.   I was born with no hands due to it.  My right arm goes from wrist to shoulder & my left arm goes from elbow to shoulder.  I type with the end of my right arm, & my lil left arm does the LEFT SHIFT key or CAPS LOCK, or any far left button.

 

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Thundar,

I don't get it (K-pop) either.  I had never heard of it before he brought it to my attention.  

I don't rule out paranormal, but then I don't consider religion a crutch either.  We have people on this forum that see psychics, and it's something that can't be explained away, heck, even police have turned to them for help. Here we have a wide array of beliefs.   In my own family we have anything from Christians to atheists, but instead of trying to sway each other, we respect each other's opinions.

I don't consider Jim disabled, just different from the norm, and that's okay.

I hadn't heard of  Moebius Syndrome before.  It's amazing how you've adapted to be able to type.  Have you ever tried a prosthesis?  I used to work at a prosthetic & orthotic facility, a good friend of mind is retired from that industry.  I have seen so many people do so much with missing limbs...one born without legs became a star basketball player.  I dated some that were avid skiers, mountain climbers, did search and rescue, you name it.  We employed one lady that lost her arm, as a typist (before computer days).  I've found that people use great ingenuity to do what they want to do.  

Alone & Lost,

I love your painting of the guitar!  You are a fabulous artist!  I'm surprised you aren't at it fulltime.  My daughter was always good at art plus exceptional with math.  My son is the engineer type (hence his engineering degrees), also great at math, but he doesn't think he's creative.  He is very creative, it just displays differently in him.  He made a guitar-shaped jewelry box for his wife, and crafted a beautiful piano bench for her.  He enjoys woodworking as well as working on vehicles and solving problems, enjoys robotics.  I consider that very creative!  He knit me a Christmas Stocking when he was little, and crocheted me an afghan & pillow.  But he would usually do things like that once and then on to something else.  For him it was about the enjoyment of learning.  I'll look for a picture of the guitar-shaped jewelry box and if I find it, I'll add it here.

Good to know I'm not a hoarder by definition. :)  I'll tell my kids that but I'm not sure they'll believe me.  Funny, my mom was a throw away person.  My kids have my tendencies. 

At least my beds are clear! :)

Guitar.jpg

Piano bench.jpg

Edited by kayc
Add guitar jewelry box & piano bench
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Thanks for the pics, Kay, and I agree with you...it's good to be tolerant of others, even when you don't understand or agree. 

Thundar, I think you have done an amazing job of coping with the Moebius. It must be really hard having lost your mom. From working in the schools with kids with disabilities and challenges, I know that their mothers are often really critical in helping disabled kids learn to cope in the world. If she was key in your being able to get along as you have, it must be especially hard to have lost her. And it was so recent! I am really struggling with the loss of my dad every day and he died on Jan 13. It's been long enough that I am coping a little better, but people point out to me all the time that three and a half months is not long at all. And for you, the loss is really really recent. How are you doing?

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My husband did not believe in anything paranormal, supernatural, magical, mystical, etc.  My mind is blocked to everything I used to think was magical.  I do think faith will bring it back.  I did not come on here to debunk anything, or investigate.  In fact, some things scare me.  It is like I always told Billy, I don't believe it, but I don't disbelieve it either.  I have a friend that has spirits living in her house.  Too many people have seen them at work.  Too many groups, religions have tried to rid her of these.  She even moved and built a new house.  They moved with her.  This is a very straight forward woman.  These "beings" aggravate her but they do not hurt her.  There is so much we do not understand, not even skeptics, probably the meaning of that word.  If a person does not believe and wants to debunk it, then why?  Why not just not believe in it and let the people who do believe in it alone.

We used to have people that were schizophrenic come into the hospital where I worked and they thought they were Jesus Christ, Elvis, a king or a queen.  And we dope them up to not believe this stuff.  If I want to think I am Martha Washington (a despicable woman, to me), then let me believe I am Martha.  If we do not have murder or mayhem in our hearts, but just believe we are someone else, what does that harm? 

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Thunder, I worked in the basement of a hospital 11-7 shift for seven years.  Never even got scared.  Then I went days and the girl that took my place was accosted and taken to the dark laboratory by elevator.  We were all alone in a big state teaching hospital.  She was not raped, she talked him out of it.  He had just graduated high school, an honor graduate.  A live spirit.

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