Sunday, April 6, 2008

*A Ghost story to pass the time*

Four am and i'm alone. It was probably the cold that awoke me.
It's starting to get cold down here. I like autumn. i just don't enjoy being alone during it.
But its ok. I probably fell asleep around 7 pm because i hadn't slept Friday to Saturday due to finally cleaning the house. That was over 10 hours of work, probably, considering the preexistent mess. Things are clean now. Also... I've been bleeding for 13 days now... Not very much, but enough to make me feel weak, and the flow has started to increase. 13 days of cramps plus a cold sore that looks like shit and hurts like hell. At least the warm laptop on my tummy eases the pain.
And we missed Luxuria. Bummer.
Yesterday I went to work at 7:45 am, got a manicure and had my bangs trimmed, than ate like a construction worker.
I'm no longer sleepy, but i'm only getting up after the sun rises.
4-6 am is probably the creepiest time of the day. The air is just so full of this strange energy. Its the time i feel the most "things". i hate feeling that i am not alone when i should be. It creeps me out. Thank goodness for the comforting company of SGland. Wanna "hear" a story?

Some people believe in things. Others don't. Usually those who don't are the ones who feel nothing. It is not my case.

My grandmother was a medium. More specifically, she was a recipient for a spirit called "Treze Ventania" in Brazilian mythology, more specifically, Quimbanda. She died of cancer in an sanatorium when my mother was 16.

As a teenager, I was startled. A lot. Maybe it was because I read a lot of Carlos Castaneda. But I also enjoyed going to terreiros for the music and free booze. These African-descendant spirits sure drink a lot. Obviously, sometime I would be followed home. Maybe spirits are just like stray puppies, dying to be taken with someone.

This was not a hitchhiker. It was more like a spiritual stalker. There were hands on my shoulders, a breath down my neck and the steps following mine when I chose the lonely side streets.Not to mention the dark blurry energy emanating itself from under my bed. It sounded like screams covered by static and it felt like a heart attack. It scared the shit out of me.

There were also the good guys. An old masculine presence in the bathroom, calming and soothing like someone else's grandfather. The couple that visited me once. She was a sweet gal and felt immensely sad.

Then there were the vampires. I clearly remember a visit to my personal demon in search of clarity and help. He laughed at me. I woke up bruised that morning.

My best friend was a Wiccan. She offered to help me. Our group of friends used to gather in an old cemetery to drink wine, smoke weed, play guitar and make out. It felt ok because it was a City Founders Cemetery, so no one had been buried there in over 100 years.Then one day I got really drunk and served as a vessel to an Exu. I don't remember that night.

What i do remember is the day when i couldn't find my friends. They were not at the square where we hung out and they skate boarded. They were not at the mall. So i figured they must be at the cemetery. It was a 15 minute walk so i headed out there, alone. It was just starting to get dark when i arrived, and after sneaking in, i walked up the steep hill to our favorite grave. The wind blew and the sky was an amazing palette of oranges and violets. It was a cold wind that made the leafs (was it autumn?) dance around my legs. The air was Cristal clear and as shiny and piercing as the sound of Cristal prisms clicking, one against the other, was the sound of children's laughter. Small children, dancing around me, around my feet, playing with the leafs. And then the laugh... a load womans laugh, clearly insane, clearly with me. The laugh of a Pomba-gira. A laugh that made run all the way back to the mall without looking behind, only to find my friends there.

The last time i went back to that Cemetery was with my best friend. There was earth and fire, and an angel was watching us. Then she shut my Ajna Chackra.

Our body is a precise mechanism. Energy must flow it and out. Mine was trapped. At least that was what the new guy, Pablo, told me. He showed up one day at the mall with Ivo, and played Vampire with us. We were both Tremere, so we had talked a lot. Among the things he told me, was that my kundalini flow had inverted itself. Ajna is the home of duality, and is represented by Ardhanarishvara, a hermaphrodite form of Shiva-Shakti. Yeah, i'm probably the first person to blame my bisexuality on an energy imbalance. Speak of Russian Reversal!

He also told me that he couldn't reopen my third eye, but he could create an outlet for the energy. Which he did. He opened the spot on the back of my neck. "Crrrrrraaaaaccckkkk" went my joints. "Pop!", went vishuddha.

Imagine that you are blind and deaf. You still know when someone is there, right?

My bra straps are cutting into my shoulders (i slept in my clothes) but its too cold to take my sweater off.
So i leave you with photos from a couple Saturdays ago...

There are more, but they need editing so i'm off to learn GIMP.
The sun should be out soon... Damn it! I need to pee!


No comments: