Wednesday, September 30, 2015


As the days get shorter many of our thoughts grow darker.

Ghosties and ghoulies that go bump in the night are fun and pave the way for a spooky Halloween.

But what about the stories that are not so fun; the dark tales of the poor souls forever lost to the devil?

Possession, the ownership or command of something without regard for ownership, or domination by an evil spirit, has been commercialized by Hollywood and written about endlessly in books like The Exorcist and The Exorcism of Emily Rose.

Both of these books are supposedly based on true stories, The Exorcist about a young boy named Roland Doe (actually a pseudonym given by the Catholic church) who tried to contact his dead mother through the Ouija board, and The Exorcism of Emily Rose based on the 67 exorcisms of a disturbed girl named Annaliese Michel. Thinking she was invaded by unclean spirits, Annaliese refused food and drink, fasting to cleanse her body from evil, and eventually succumbing to starvation and malnutrition.

There are other books out there too, like Malachi Martin's Hostage to the Devil, a terrifying and controversial look at several stories of possession, written from an eye-witness point of view. Martin was a theologian and former professor at the Vatican's Pontifical Biblical Institute. 

Another book, Glimpses of the Devil, written by F. Scott Peck, a student and follower of Martin, and psychologist and author of the very popular book The Road Less Traveled, is about Peck's studies of evil, and his eventual witnessing of an exorcism.

These are not good bedtime stories, even for those who are not easily scared. 

For those that believe in God and Jesus it is a call to arms against the prince of darkness, for if you believe in God and the Bible, you have to at least consider the idea of the devil and possession to be real. For the non-believer, it is said that it does not matter if you believe or not, the devil still exists.

According to Gabriele Amorth, the Vatican exorcist and author of the book An Exorcist Tells His Story, Satan is very real and very busy these days. He claims that the number of exorcisms he performs increases yearly, and that he himself has released over 70,000 people from the clutches of demons, and even Lucifer himself. He said "the devil is not everywhere, but when he is present it is painful."

He also said, "The devil resides in the Vatican."

According to Amorth, there are three official signs that are recognized by the Roman Catholic church as signs of possessions, and could manifest if an individual is possessed. The first is showing great strength, the next is speaking in languages once unknown, and the third is precognition, or knowing things the individual should not really know.

He states that these are sometimes not present until the exorcism is taking place. Some other signs are changes in social behavior, like suddenly wanting no contact with others, supernatural abilities, sleep disturbances, violent behavior, the ability to speak in several voices at once, sacred aversions, or the inability to pray or enter church, confusion, amnesia, and hearing or seeing things.

Many of these symptoms can also manifest during a psychotic episode, so care must be taken to not influence a potential patient into thinking he may be possessed.

According to Amorth there are four stages to demonic possession. The first is:

1. Diabolical Infestation ~ this first stage is always brought on by an invitation. By making a conscious choice to ask the demonic into your world, you are in turn entering into the middle world, the world of the dead and the unknown. According to the bible, you are not supposed to be here, or seek to know these things.

For example, the Ouija board is marketed by Parker Brothers as a game. It can be purchased at Toys R Us by a child. The mere act of deciding to make the purchase is a step in the wrong direction. Although you may say you are only looking for good spirits, you have no control of what may actually appear. If you send out word that you are having a party and put no limits on who is invited, you would have no idea at who may end up knocking on your door. 

Another invitation could be the use of Tarot cards. Viewed by some as a Jungian interpretation of our inner selves, these card give a view of the future, the past, and show information we would otherwise not know. They are designed with beautiful pictures, and can be overlooked as a portal or door. Just because the door is painted in a beautiful color does not mean there is beauty behind it.

Although infestation is considered the least troublesome of the steps to possession, there are some signs to watch for. A constant feeling of unease or of being watched may trouble you. You may start to see shapes or shadows move out of the corner of your eye, or feel like someone touched you lightly. Your sleep may be interrupted, many times at 3 am, since three is a mocking of the trinity. (Jesus was crucified at three in the afternoon, also. Another inversion.)

Unease is the word here: as the sun goes down you will have a terrible feeling like something is about to happen, you will be afraid to look at your reflection in the mirror if the room is slightly dark, you may hear voices you can't understand, or while you are int the shower. To make a long story short, things seem sinister.

2. Demonic Oppression ~ If you have allowed the demons to win the first stage of the fight, you will enter the next phase. Although you are not possessed, you have allowed another level of evil to occur. The fight against evil occurs daily, and what we feel is "bad luck" or karma or the universe being "out to get us", may be demons, according to Amorth. As our psyches are becoming more and more broken, we feel defeated, and in turn stop caring. This phase, and the next phase, Demonic Possession, have been called boring by priests and psychologists, who have witnessed individuals as they become possessed. They are ill, exhausted, angry, and at a loss for what to do. (Boring because it is repetitive, the individual does not know how to help himself and just repeats the same mistakes and depressing actions over and over.) It is at this stage the person gives up, and grants the damning permission.

3. Demonic Possession ~ The possessed person is many times unable to control his mind. He is invaded by intrusive thoughts that he cannot stop. He feels defeated and hopeless and almost welcomes the invasion. According to F. Scott Peck, most possessions occur in people that are very lonely, and feel something akin to peace when they accept a demon into their lives. They are lulled into thinking it will be some kind of dark companion. Father Amorth says that the possessed's eyes may appear white, either rolled up or down in the sockets, or the iris appearing milky. They may speak hatefully and act violently. They experience amnesiac periods where an always hateful entity takes over. After they rouse from these "fits" they seem normal and can work and live normally, with no memory of the episode.

If a person is perfectly possessed, they may show none of the above discussed malevolence. They are not repulsed by the holy, can go to church, and show no further signs of possession. The individual is now completely under control of evil and there is no will left of the victim's own. Salvation is unlikely. 

If someone willingly becomes a satanist, practitioner of black magic, or demon worshiper, the first three stages of possession may not happen. The devil does not have to fight for what is given to him.

I have a bit of first-hand experience with possession. It did not happen to me, but to a dear friend. You can read about it HERE.

Father Amorth has stated that about 90% of possessions come from curses. More causes of possession are:

* Making a pact with the devil, demons, Satan, or Lucifer

* Occult practices (Ouija, Tarot, divination, palm reading, seances, cult activity or esoteric practices, Freemasonry, or witchcraft)

* A sacrifice or offering (the worst being a parent offering a child to the devil)

* A curse or spell from a witch, black priest or priestess, or from a satanic cult.

If one member of a family is affected, it is a good idea for every member of the family to pray together, sprinkle holy water about the whole house, ask for protection, and read the bible together.

Placing crucifixes around the house and at entryways can help. The St. Benedict medal or cross can be worn to dispel evil, prevent possession, and dispel illness. It can even be worn by non-Catholics because Mary will supposedly bring conversion to those who wear it. The same is said of the the Brown Scapular devotion. 

All items mentioned here can be purchased HERE.

You cannot buy, trade, order or invest in blessed items. You need to order them as is, and have them blessed by a priest yourself.

I heard a story about someone who was seeing shadows and shapes in their peripheral vision. Although not terrified, they were concerned. A friend told them to light a white candle and address it kindly and tell it to leave.

The Catholic church would disagree with this. The devil is a liar, they say, and will deceive you. If you are truly bothered by what you consider to be the demonic, consult a priest. If you do not feel he believes you, they recommend you find someone else.

They may bless your house. Sometimes it may take a few times before you feel the darkness leave. 

The prayer of St. Michael is said to protect from evil. Repeat often: 

Saint Michael the Archangel,
defend us in battle.
Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray;
and do Thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host,
by the Divine Power of God,
cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits
who roam throughout the world seeking the ruin of souls.

Be careful. Do not do anything that could be inferred as an invitation to dark spirits.

An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure never rang more true.

Books mentioned earlier:

Glimpses of the Devil by M. Scott Peck

Hostage to the Devil by Malachi Martin

An Exorcist Tells His Story by Gabriele Amorth

Friday, August 28, 2015

The Boy Under the Bridge

When I was a teenager one of my favorite things to do was drive around at night with my friends.

Listening to cool songs under the moonlight left me plenty of warmhearted memories.

One night, while listening to Moonlight Drive by The Doors, someone in the car told a story as we drove over a small bridge. It was about a boy who drowned in the lake below.

The story says if you stop on the bridge at midnight on March 19th, the last full day of winter, and throw a penny in the water and make a wish, a milky eyed boy will float up from the depth and try and take the coin.

Rumor has it the boy's brother held him under the icy water just a bit too long, and was not able to pull him back out after his game backfired.

It's a terrible tale, but supposedly true.

Please tell me any urban legends that YOU know--I love them all.


Wednesday, May 6, 2015

A Deal With the Devil

I know someone who lost several family members and two pets over the last six months. The relatives were close--not the type who hide in Alaska and are not seen for years--but the near and dear who they spoke to and interacted with on a regular basis. In fact, they were favorites.

The family dog was a favorite too, so much so in fact that many said she was the best dog they had ever known. 

So a bargain was struck by the owner after the dog started to act sick. Please, they said, let us have the dog. You have taken a godmother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother--why do you need the beloved pet? She is young. Let her live. Let her live and things will be put on hold. In fact, it would be taken as a sign that maybe they would reconsider their atheism. They would even pray again. Let them have the dog! Fix her--fix her and let them keep her until she was older, with grey around her muzzle and she had a hard time walking--not because of an illness--but because she had genuinely been around the block enough times.

The career could be put on hold too--it could wait. They could even focus on church. Just give her a few more years.

They closed their eyes peacefully that night because the vet called and told them that even though she had a stroke, her neurological symptoms were improving. 

But the phone rang at 7:00 am, and middle of the night and early morning phone calls are rarely good news. This was no different.

The dog was worse, in fact she was worse off than any of the other dogs at the hospital--and now she was suffering. So now a choice had to be made.

She was gone by noon.

They still had plenty to be thankful for. They had each other. 

But the point is there was no one listening. No prayers were answered, and it was the final straw. Desperate times make us do desperate things, and in this case the last-ditch prayers once again fell on deaf ears--or more likely just echoed on and on into space.

We are fools. We are raised to genuflect to an being that we never see. We are told to love someone who does not speak to us when we talk, or answer our heart-felt prayers. We are told to give up our earthly lives and through faith live for a spirit who instills separateness and judgement in a world that so much needs togetherness. 

Maybe they did it wrong. Maybe they were speaking to someone who is too occupied, or confused, or overwhelmed. Maybe they needed to speak to someone who would listen.

Maybe there is no one listening.

They asked me what was worse, if someone was listening and chose to ignore them? Or if there was no one at all. 

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

A Loss of Fear

Growing up in a Russian orthodox household meant there was holy water in the cabinet, a prominent painting of the last supper in the dining room, and a somber picture of Jesus in my grandmother's bedroom that was supposed to be uplifting and calming, I'm sure, but never failed to freak me out.

I didn't realize it at the time, but it also meant that I was afraid of many things: the devil, ghosts, the dark, and almost anything you could think of that was considered "supernatural".

I also had a thing about eyes--if they weren't your basic blue or brown they also freaked me out. The thought of looking out the window at night to see a pair of glowing amber eyes was almost too much to bear, but that is another post: Click here for more about EYES

Needless to say everyone went to church on Sunday, but I protested too much after about the age of ten. My fussing got old and it wasn't worth it for the rest of the worshipers, and I got to stay home. I bounced back and forth from being a lukewarm believer, to an atheist.

Studying religions was my attempt at finding meaning, and I did learn quite a bit about Buddhism, Christianity, Taoism, and many more, but the only thing I truly gleaned from the endless studying was a bit of self-discovery.

I did not believe in the God of the bible.

Yet, like so many, the things we learn when we are young are difficult to unlearn. I realized I was still afraid to "sin", so I would occasionally attempt another shot at church or bible study. My husband is Catholic, and I always ended up in the Catholic church by default. Although the masses always left me cold, for me it was deeper. There was some kind of disconnect, and after reading the bible, really reading, not listening to what someone else said about it, I knew I not only disbelieved in the god of the bible--I did not like the premise.

I'm not going to get into the whole thing here, but when I finally let it go, when I really allowed myself to not be afraid a giant holy ghost was going to strike me dead and send me to hell for saying the lords name in vain too many times, I lost my fears.

I no longer had the feeling that a malignant force was ready to get me, I was no longer worried that the devil had me in his sights and had dark and dismal plans for my soul, and I no longer believed some bigger force in general was the ruler of my destiny. And most of all, I was no longer afraid of myself  for trying to worship a god who gave over his own son, for people he created, then destroyed, twice...but I digress.

A few nights ago I woke at 3 am. I checked the laundry downstairs and shut the lights off in the hall. I realized, ridiculously enough, that up until about a year ago this would have bothered me.

My long winded point is this--when we stop doing the things that make us afraid of ourselves, we stop being afraid of everything else, too.


Monday, March 30, 2015

I Will NOT Apologize If YOU Think I Have ADHD--and Other Things I'm NOT Sorry About

I was talking with a friend the other day and realized she apologized endlessly during our conversation. She was sorry for being mad at someone, for laughing too loudly, for talking too much, and a few other things. I never mentioned any of these things as she spoke, and realized many people apologize for almost everything.

I noticed this in her because I noticed it in myself several years ago. 

I apologized if someone mentioned I spoke too slow, or too fast, or they clucked as I tried to carefully put my money away at the register, or WHATEVER. I felt bad if I told the truth, I felt bad if someone felt uncomfortable--even if it was not my fault. And I was not actually sorry--in fact I was kind of mad.

I decided to stop apologizing for nonsense. Here is a list of things I am NO LONGER sorry for:

~ Speaking like I have ADHD. My mind jumps topics, things remind me of other things, and sometimes what you think is a tangent is me explaining things that will eventually come together at the end. Not everyone is linear, and being creative lends itself to idea links. This is ME. Not sorry.

~ Sleeping late. I work at home, I am a writer and and illustator. Unlike many people I sometimes get a burst of energy late at night, and I have some very good ideas after the sun goes down. I am lucky enough to be able to stay up late and take advantage of the hours I keep because I do not have to get up with the birds. I am not lazy or depressed because I sleep til 9:30 am and sometimes work in my slippers for a while. Likewise--I do not think you are acting like you are six years old because you go to sleep at 9:30 pm. 

~ Being a picky eater. Nope--I do not want to try organ meats, raw foods, or anything with cucumbers. I have lived over 50 years and have tried most things at this point, and will not ruin a meal because someone wants me to be adventurous and try something new. I know what I like--you can order anything you please.

~ Looking on the bright side. I regularly assume things will work out alright, because even if they don't there is sometimes nothing I can do, so I make the best of it. My attempt is realism with an optimistic bent.  I almost said sorry if you don't like it--but I caught myself.

~ Living a life I choose. I spent years making everyone happy. My career and life choices were put on the back burner as I helped everyone and put my own needs aside with a sigh. Now I am busy and happy and you may have to wait a bit. Took me long enough.

~ Not being perfectly neat. I have walked into endless homes and have been astounded at the austerity or extreme neatness and organization skills the owner must have. Where is all the stuff? I don't understand how a place where someone lives can be so neat, and I spent years apologizing for having pens, pencils, books, papers and other art paraphernalia around. I like my stuff, and I don't want to put it away because someone walks through the door.

~  Liking what I like. I like scary topics and being spooked, art, pencils, pens, birds, medical , the occult, and religious conversations. No longer sorry that I don't like sports or shopping.

~ Not being good at small talk. I like intense friendships and talking until the sun comes up--but I am not great at social climbing. No interest.

~ And most of all I will no longer apologize for having an opinion that is different than someone else's. 

In no way am I trying to say I am always right. If I hurt someone, or make someone wait, or feel someone truly needs an apology--I am all for it. I just wish we would all stop the needless apologizing over silly things.

Apologizing because you think someone will be mad or because your opinion is different from theirs at you can lead to lowered self esteem, and possibly make you seem like you are weak or lack confidence. Don't apologize unless you are really trying to fix something. Save it for the real thing and use it when it's needed.

So let's break the habit--I feel more genuine, and a bit stronger too since I have changed that habit. We need to stop being sorry for being ourselves.


Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Ten Reasons I Think God Does Not Exist--and If He Does He's Kind of a Dick

There are many obvious reasons to make me believe there is no God. For instance, all the suffering in the world. And ANY incurable or painful disease that children get--that one right there is enough to make me feel IF there is an all-knowing, perfect being somewhere and he is allowing those things to happen--he's a jerk.

My claims are not the opposite in agreement with the theory of Russell's teapot, and there is nothing scientific here. And I agree with Richard Dawkins when he states science has no way of "establishing the existence or non-existence of a god, therefore the believer and disbeliever deserve equal respect."

But I have a list of ten things that are enough to tip me in one direction over the other--no science involved. Here they are:

1. The fact that everything that is even remotely good for you tastes incredibly bad. AND the better for you it is, the worse it tastes. Kale! Superfood! Super GROSS food.

2. The best way to get Vitamin D is from the sun! If we don't have enough of the sunshine vitamin terrible things happen--osteoporosis, depression, heart disease. But sitting in the sun is the best way to get skin cancer. Terrific.

3. If you are a woman you can pretty much bank on having at LEAST one bad week out of every month if you are between the ages of 13 and 50. Which leads to:

4. Pregnancy and childbirth--feeling sick for nine straight months, then going into labor--the worst pain you will probably ever feel in your life, then getting NO sleep for the next two years. The privileges of being a woman.

5. You finally reach the age where you get that week back every month, and you are too tired to care.

6. The most wonderful tasting and feeling things are addictive and terrible for us. Sugar, cigarettes, alcohol, coffee, soda, candy--sigh.

7. You can do everything right--eat the gross, healthy foods, exercise, meditate, get enough sleep--and end up with cancer or have a heart attack. 

8. Sex feels awesome--until you try to prevent pregnancy. Then it becomes inconvenient, less pleasurable, sticky and gooey, or interrupted. Another very pleasant thing with far too many strings attached.

9. We wait for months for the winter months to pass--then the minute spring arrives and the weather is beautiful allergy season begins.

10. Juuuust when we start to accept ourselves and enjoy life--we die.

So this is just scratching the surface--and yes it's a bit of a bitch-fest--but really--if you are up there guy--stop being such an asshole. 

I am not going to quote all the contradictions in the bible or preach about how God destroyed his own creations--twice--you can look that up if you like.

Just wanted to get this off my chest. :) 

Friday, March 13, 2015

Hey Karma, You're Slacking Off

We've all heard the saying "karma is a bitch".

I have to say that I don't think karma is doing a very good job at being a bitch lately. 

I know people that have been doing nothing but good for others for years, and are having nothing but problems. On the other side of the coin, there are so many jerks out there getting nothing but a free ride while they take advantage of everyone and everything.

Come on karma, what's the deal?

Have you gotten soft in your old age? Or have you become somewhat of a hippy, and taken a more live and let live stance on things?

Well, I think you need to step up to the plate. If you see a virtual Mother Theresa helping the poor or healing the sick--DO SOMETHING! Let that person win the lottery--not JLo's mother who won over 2 million dollars in Atlantic City.

Really karma, you're being a dick. 

The God helps those who help themselves thing is not working anymore. It seems you can help yourself and everyone that you know, and the first thing that will happen to you will be BAD. The saying No good deed goes unpunished seems to be more par for the course these days.

Yeah, yeah, Bernie Madoff got busted and thrown in jail and he was a bad guy, but I feel about him what they say about spiders, if you see one there are at least 100 in the same house that you can't see. He just happened to trick someone in a higher position than himself. The zillions of small-time shysters are getting away with things every minute, and because they are smaller and nobody important is getting shysted, they just keep on flying under the radar. 

The world needs help, and karma is not helping anymore.

THIS is how karma should work--CLICK HERE.

I liked the good old days when you did something good and you felt there was something bigger on your side. Now I feel like no one is watching to make sure you do the right thing--and if they are, they are getting some kind of evil kick out of watching us struggle. 

So come on karma, honestly. We meant bitch in the best way possible.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

The Sanpaku Fortune Telling Superstition--Is It Based In Science?

According to a well-known Japanese term, sanpaku, which literally means "three whites", if, when looking directly ahead, white is visible above or below the pupil of the eye, a severe physical or emotional/mental imbalance is present.

According to George Ohsawa, the lower iris of a healthy newborn rests below the lower eyelid, "like a rising sun", and the eye will have two white areas on either side of the iris. (From the book You Are All Sanpaku). Supposedly, as a person becomes ill or approaches death, whether he is very young or very old, a third portion of white will show in the eye, either above or below the pupil. This condition is called sanpaku.

YIN -- White Under the Eyes

One eye can be sanpaku, and this indicates an imbalance somewhere in the body--possibly emotional stress or mild illness. Both eyes can indicate a higher level of stress. If the white area appears below the eye it is considered yin sanpaku.
It appears in drug addicts, those who are stressed and fatigued, and those who consume excess sugar and carbohydrates. It is said that the yin sanpaku an unwittingly place themselves in dangerous or threatening situations. They say the yin sanpaku can be at the mercy of the outside world, and there is something out to get you. Beware! Some famous people with yin sanpaku are Robert Pattinson, John F.Kennedy, Michael Jackson and Marilyn Monroe.

YANG -- White Over Eyes

Another type of sanpaku reveals a yang situation, and the white or sclera appears above the pupil of the eye. Although this situation is not very common, it is very important because it reveals a potentially dangerous or violent person. Unlike the yin sapaku, this situation indicates a danger from withing the person, who is capable of harming others or himself. These people may have a hard time controlling their inner feeling, are can be capable of bad things, according to Japanese readings. Yang states come from ingesting too much meat, salt and hard cheese, and from taking part in violent situations.

It is said that Charles Manson has yang sanpaku, but I have never seen a picture of him where his eyes were not opened extremely wide where he looked sanpaku. The wife of Newt Gingrich, Callista, has the closest I can find to a true yang sanpaku eye.


A sanpaku state is a useful indicator of a situation that needs to be helped. A macrobiotic diet, relaxation techniques like meditation and yoga, and simply removing yourself from a negative situation are all good ways to start to remedy sanpaku eyes, and to help adjust yourself to a more healthy way of life. 

The Western world is full of stress--work, money, time constraints. Even young children are prone to sanpaku states. 

Some consider the yin sanpaku state beautiful and alluring--a come-hither type of bedroom eye.

But there is some medical evidence to support this idea. When we indulge in too much sugar, carbohydrates like wheat and white, processed foods, our bodies become acid and allow certain diseases to develop. If following a macrobiotic diet, or a diet with plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables, we alkalize ourselves and develop a more healthy and balanced system.

So take a look squarely at yourself in the mirror--are your eyes evenly centered? Or are you sanpaku?

CLICK HERE to see the book You Are All Sanpaku 

Thursday, January 15, 2015

The Man With the Hat

When your little sister tells you she sees a face in her closet, you ignore her.

When she insists it is staring at her, you tell her to shut up, and maybe furrow your brow a bit.

As she drags you to her closet by the arm you laugh, but hope you don't see anything. 

She points and you look. You are ready to tell her she is being a baby...but there it is. Just a bit beyond the bottom of her hanging reach out to move them aside and there he is...

A boy--a boy with big, light blue eyes. And he's smiling. Does he have fangs?? He's glowing...

Your stomach falls to the floor and your heart stops because this is not your imagination. His over sized eyes are staring, unblinking, right into yours.

Your sister has her face buried in your back, and she quietly asks if you can see him...and you quietly answer back.


And you both scream. You scream because the nightmare came true, and you can't unsee those eyes...

But as you move your hand away from the clothes, you see the boy is no longer glowing. He is just a faint outline behind the shoes. So you peek in again, and reach past the sneakers and clogs and grab for the face, and pull out a Fangoria magazine.

You and your sister laugh and feel relief and disappointed at the same time. For a moment, the supernatural was REAL. All those things you were told were make-believe were honest to goodness, genuinely TRUE. But at least you did not have to worry about a vampire.

But what about the other things that you've seen or heard? 

Night after night I would lie in my bed, sleepless, and wonder and worry about the things kids worry about. Boys, clothes, school, etc. I would look at the closets in my bedroom, and wonder if my sister was asleep. The wood grains formed shapes: a bird, the profile of a thin woman, a bear, and the face of a werewolf. 

If the closets were closed, all was well, but if I was forgetful and left my door opened a bit, I would see the man with the hat.

He was tall and thin, and I could never see his face. Somehow I knew he was looking at me. His hat was an odd mixture of fedora and bowler. He never moved, and he would be there as I fell asleep. He was partly benign and partly menacing, and I would almost forget about him by morning...until I saw him again.

After several visits, I told my sister, and her eyes got big and filled with tears that never fell. She had seen the man with the hat too.

We didn't talk about him much for some reason, but we kept our closets closed every night.

Recently, I was reading a story about the black eyed children, and something seemed familiar. At the end of the article, it said some are unlucky enough to be visited by the children, and many others have seen a shadowy man with a hat.

I was floored. I thought this was a personal terror that was only shared by my sister and me. I have not told her that others have seen our man with the hat--and I'm wondering how she will feel when she reads this blog. I think I may have been visited by the black eyed children too, but that story is for another post. 

If you have any of these experiences, I'd love to know.

Sorry Tinya ;)

More on the Shadow People

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Haunted Pictures

Haunted Candle, Demon, and The Lady ~ PHOTOS

These photos were all taken by me and seem to have manifested something paranormal in each.

This image was taken from an Edward Gorey book that I got for Christmas from a friend. When I was a child the image frightened me, so I planned to tell the friend of my childhood fear. The image in the book is black and white--my image is NOT. Now the picture scares me even more.

None of my images are enhanced, highlighted, altered or changed in ANY way except to crop for size.

This image was taking while driving home in the fog during the winter. Notice the woman-shaped figure in the tree trunk.

The next image was taken on Gallows Hill Road in Cranford, New Jersey. I aimed my iPhone toward the spot that used to contain a gallows, and is purportedly one of the most haunted locations in NJ. When I took the shot, I accidentally took two pictures, the first one contained this green, demonic face, and the second showed nothing. Please tell me what YOU see.

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

An Open Mind

I am a member of a few conspiracy theory groups, some anti-religion pages, and numerous science pages on Facebook and elsewhere. 

Although many of the thoughts and insights are interesting, I find myself a skeptic of the skeptics. The idea that the sun is a hexagon-shaped mechanical heat source fueled by planes and other rocket-like craft may be a bit too much for me.

Chem trails? Could be. Agenda 21--all signs point to yes.

But I keep an open mind. 

Is the entire paradigm we have been taught false? Is religion a way to keep us living in fear and a way to create a non-questioning society? What about demons and devils, or even God? 

I asked myself if science was a light in the dark--the only measurable truth we have. But even science is a zoo of theories, many of which have been refuted and proven wrong time and time again. Yes--there are facts I, along with the rest of the world, believed to be true. But even our idea of a finite universe has been challenged, and our string theory and the idea of an expanding universe is becoming more mainstream.

We collect data and formulate theories as best we can with the information we have, but there are certain things that cannot be measured or compared. 

Personal, internal experiences at this point in time can be described and our blood pressure, temperature, and other responses can be kept track of, but the actual experience of the individual can only be described in words. It is their reality, and we have no way to tell if the situation has been repeated exactly, or interpreted differently by each individual.

So to make a long story short, we know some stuff--but there is plenty of other stuff we have no idea about yet. 

We seek answers and applaud those who find the answers that are apropos for the time--but we need to keep our minds opened forever, and never stop learning.

Facts do not need to be completely refuted to change--an element can be added or subtracted to a fact to completely change it, while maintaining its original idea.

Yes, there are atoms--but we know they are not the tiniest thing any more. The God particle? We'll find it and on it's coattails we will glimpse the Eternity Orb. 

Keep your mind open--you never know what will walk in.

Thursday, October 23, 2014


Welcome to the 2014 Coffin Hop!

Please visit all the other authors after you are done here by clicking the horrible pumpkin button ---------------------------------->>>>

My Coffin Hop challenge this year will test your mind reading capabilities.
I will choose a series of FOUR letters from the alphabet and focus the energy of the letters on the crystal ball in front of the mind reading gypsy. Please use your psychic powers and see if you can tell what letters have been chosen, and put your answer in the comments below. (The four letters do NOT form a word and were chosen yesterday and sent to Axel, the Big Daddy of the Hop, to keep everyone honest.)

At the end of the hop, the person who has the best psychic abilities will win GHOST WRITER ~ a miniature, leather-bound book about a tiny ghosts who faces the same problems as we the living have here on earth.
Ghost Writer has issues with grammar, syntax, punctuation, and has a pile of rejection letters as long as your arm. 

The book is hand-bound with wax coated string, and has original art on each of its ten pages.

Please, please, please SCARE ME!

Thanks for stopping by dearies. XO

Just CLICK to Follow on Twitter if you like.

Sunday, October 19, 2014


I have an aunt who loves angels. She believes we have guardian angels, and that there are other holy beings that protect us from the bad guys, getting into accidents, or just straying off the good path. I know many who feel the same way. 

In the bible is says that God made angels one at a time, and they cannot die. Even if we are super good here one earth, we would never become angels. The number of angels never increases or decreases. Some say there are at least as many angels as there have been people who existed on the earth.

I asked one of my friends who wholeheartedly believes in angels what she thought they looked like. She told me that angels look exactly like we see them in pictures; beautiful, typically clothed in white, with wings and if not a halo, a very holy countenance or glow. She also described a female entity.

Another friend, a born-again Christian, believes they are huge. Not seven or eight feet tall, she means bigger than your house. She said they are fearsome creatures, wielding swords of fire...and these gargantuan beings look like humans--really big ones.

I think if I asked 100 people in the United States what they believed about angels I would most likely hear 100 different answers. It got me thinking--do we think angels have blonde hair? Blue eyes? Are they ginormous sword-wielding super spirits? Or do we imagine angels look like US?

I took a poll in a spiritual group I belong to and asked what they thought angels looked like. All the respondents here gave different answers--some said angels were spirit, and did not have a body we could see, others said some angels looks one way, and others another way.

I imagine that our personal visions of these divine beings make us feel comfortable and safe. We lie down in the snow and recreate the lovely wings and heavenly skirts we imagine them to have. They grace the highest points of our Christmas trees, and we make holiday cookies with wings and halos. We envision them playing saintly music on their tiny harps, and protecting us from evil with their shiny Swords of God.

In the bible, Daniel saw angel with polished-metal arms and legs, and a face like lightning. Christian text says since angels are not human but spirit, they are not visible to us at all. When anyone did see an angel in biblical days, they fell down and covered their faces in awe.
NOT how you would typically imagine an angel

But if we are talking about the angels from the bible we are a bit off track. First of all, most of the angels there do NOT have wings. As a matter of fact, most of the angels described sound a bit more like something from a sci-fi movie than a heavenly book. For example, seraphim, the highest ranked of the angels, have six wings according to Isaiah, two to cover his face, two to cover his feet, and the other two for flying.

Cherubs, or cherubim, those cute little Valentine flyers, have four faces, a man, an ox, a lion, and an eagle. NOT cute. The thrones are even creepier, described as a wheel within a wheel, their rims covered with hundreds of eyes. The dominions are described as the human-looking angels with feathery wings--not so bad. Nephilim are a whole different story because they are giants who supposedly resulted from the unscrupulous affairs between angels and humans.

The word angel comes from a Greek word, aggelos, and the Hebrew word mal'ak. Both words mean messenger.

A CBS News poll reported that nearly 8 in 10 American people believe in angels. Women are more likely than men to believe in angels, and 4 out of 10 people who do not attend religious services of any kind still believe in angels.

But not every angel is a good-guy!

There is a faction of angels that went to the dark side and followed Lucifer, the fallen angel who dared to challenge God. We call them demons.

There is a supposed fight going on in the invisible world between good and evil, a fight between the good and bad angels. Although hard to understand why this would be allowed to rage on, the bad angels or demons are supposed to serve some type of purpose in the eyes of God, and when they have completed what needs to be done, God will put an end to it.

Ooohhh I want to believe I have a guardian angel! A benign and beautiful being floating around, always on the alert, and keeping me from harms way. Doreen Virtue says we can talk to angels any time we want--and they will listen and help us because that is their job. But we have to know how. We need to be specific, and truly ask for what we want. Well, it's worth a shot.

Now here is a seeming exception to one of the angel rules; Metatron. Ancestor of Noah. Enoch was transformed into an angel and named Metatron. I know, I know--angels are made by God one at a time and NOT from humans...sigh. Don't blame me--I'm just passing along information. You'll have to take it up with someone higher up than me. 

Saturday, October 4, 2014

Death Day

By Paola Cirmia~
I love spring when life is stirring. Of course summer thrills me as the suns warms me for a while. But we are coming to that time of year where the invisible bones of my dead relatives walk through my yard, and the darkness that resides in us all peeks from the creaking closet door of our childhood nightmares.

Oh, Halloween, my October love. Your brittle embrace allows us a small glimpse of death before our time. 

As I sit on my front porch at dusk and watch the sky turn from orange to purple, I wonder why so many of us are moonstruck in the fall. Some of us feel the familiar pull, the same kiss we read about that turns mortal into beast; and with the waning moon, back into a human being. 

It is more than our memories of trick or treating in the dark, crunchy leaves blowing at our feet, and the crooked smiles of glowing Jack o'lanterns grinning in a slightly sinister way. It is something more primitive, an ancient stirring we feel calling to us, but we don't know how to answer. It confuses us because it is delightful and wicked, but makes us feel very, very good. It is related to death, but we don't know how to celebrate death here in the United States.

We mourn our dead. We have somber ceremonies because a loved one has passed. But we don't celebrate what they were or the spirits they are now, happily haunting us for the rest of our lives. We wish their spirits would stay with us and never leave. We would not fear them.

We are only afraid of the ghosts that don't belong to us. 

Whether it be a simple memory or flash of movement out of the corner of our eyes, our private ghosts are precious. Far too few of us admit a belief in the otherworldly, but October thins the veil between our world and theirs, and the lovely creature-under-the-bed feeling we all experience in the fall is nothing but a temporary stroll between two worlds.

We don't realize it, but we have a foot in each of these worlds. We spend much of our time being rational and logical, states that can be overrated and over valued. But our beloved science is a study of humility, discoveries and revelations constantly being overridden and facts found to be false. 

Knowing when the phone is going to ring, saying the same thing at the same time as a close friend, and a flash of insight about the right thing to do are all tiny windows of our intuitive side, the B side of logic and rationale. Some say children and animals have a natural connection to the great beyond because no one has talked them out of believing, or told them they it is all their imagination. Maybe they trust everyone because they are being guided by the invisible hands of the dearly departed.

The sun sets earlier now, and we are exposed to the dark for longer periods each day. We think differently at night and fear different things. Our belief in the supernatural blooms during these long-shadow days, and we prickle with a faint knowing we don't understand. Why does it feel so good to decorate our homes with trappings of the dead for Halloween? Death is so sad, after all. 

Or is it?

Is this our secret way of celebrating death? Of allowing our intuition to embrace the knowing we have deep in our hearts that our loved ones have simply moved to a different location?

In Mexico and other countries they celebrate Dia de Muertos, an official holiday that honors the dead with sugar skulls, favorite foods of the deceased, and visits to the graveyard. Ghosts walk freely among the living during this three-day event, and friends and relatives do not feel so alone.

We Americans would never admit to celebrating death in such a way. But we will:

* decorate our houses with skulls, monsters, bats, and Jack o'lanterns on Halloween

* get dressed up as Dracula, a mummy, zombie, or any number of undead creatures and go to a party

* call psychics, astrologists, and tarot card readers to hear about our future or contact a dead relative or loved one

* attend a seance for messages from the grave

* watch shows like Ghost Hunters for clues and signs of spirits

The difference is we will do it in the name of FUN. We don't take any of these things seriously, right?

Maybe we should.

Maybe that sigh we heard from the kitchen was not the dishwasher again, and maybe the flickering light in the laundry room was not a loose wire. That perfume...isn't that what Gramma used to wear?

Maybe our minds are naturally more open during this spiced cider time of the year, when we are a bit more in tune with the other side, and the thoughts we have might be more than a little influenced by those we had known and had to bid farewell.

Zero by the amazing Nate Wragg--more here:
I call for a Death Day of our own here in the United States to celebrate the lives of our lost parents, children, grandparents, friends, family, and pets. They deserve more of a place in our lives than just a picture on the mantle. October 30th sounds good to me.

So keep a cup of tea close at hand and don't be so quick to cover your eyes when you feel a shiver of fear. You never know who is close by.

For Marg <3 Woof

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

A Sunday Sleepover for Jesus

When I was in junior high my best friend asked me to sleep over her house one Saturday night. I was excited because it meant snacks in her bright pink room while we watched her tiny television until 2am.

There was one caveat--she wanted me to go to church with her in the morning.

Ah crap.

I was 13 and had already decided in my middle school, know-it-all fashion that church was not for me.

I had my doubts from the beginning. I did not believe for one minute the story my grandmother told me that thunder was god and the angels bowling. (I had the real, scientific scoop from my dad who told me that the raindrops fell from the sky because they did not get along and the clouds rubbed together and created sparks that became lightning.) Nor did
I believe it when she told me when I had the creeps it was probably the devil at my left shoulder and that I should stomp firmly on the ground and yell GO AWAY DEVIL.

I was also a bit traumatized from one memorable Sunday when I was six and I went to our Russian orthodox church. My mother decided that I, like all the other parishioners, should and get up from the pew, kiss the cross, and get a piece of holy bread to eat from the priest.
I was fine until I looked up at the life-sized crucifix with a bloodied and tortured Jesus nailed to its center. His thorny crown stabbed his head causing punctures I could see from my seat and filled his upward turned eyes with blood. That was IT for me. I would NOT be eating holy bread, and I certainly was not kissing anything is this hall of tortures.

After running from the church into the hot July sun, my mother explained to me that I would not have to kiss THAT cross, but the one the priest was holding. I didn't care. I wanted nothing to do with the otherwise beautiful church, even if my mom told me it was the right thing to do on Sundays.

That evening I asked her why there was a statue of a dying, almost naked man in our church. She explained the story of Jesus to me. I didn't like it. Then I asked her why we had to die. She told me "so we can meet Jesus in heaven."
Nope. I didn't even want to see him in church anymore, and I surely didn't want to spend eternity with him. I got very upset and told her I did not want to die. Not at ALL. She said god was our father. Now I was frantic. Who was the man who lived with us all these years!

I began to cry. She asked, "don't you want to meet Jesus one day?" "NO!" I cried, and continued to cry for about 45 minutes.

"OK," she finally said.

"OK, what??" I sniffed.

"You don't have to die," she said.

And that was all I had to hear. She did not make me go to church anymore, and she tried to make me say my prayers for a while--but I was having none of it. AND I got the good end of the deal. No dying for me. Part of me is still convinced I am immortal.

So fast-forward a few years and there I was, faced with a major choice. Popcorn, cookies, and covert TV til all hours sounded awesome. BUT--I had to go to CHURCH. I had put all this behind me years ago. 

I told my friend of my dilemma. She said, "first of all--there is NO bloody Jesus at our church and no cross-kissing. Second--it only lasts about a half hour."

I figured I could put up with this obviously more civilized version of worship for 30 minutes. I slept over and we had a great night--we talked and talked and didn't even need to watch TV. Totally worth the church visit in the am, I told myself. 

But what they didn't tell me was this church had their OWN version of holy bread. I watched as the rows and rows of people walked to the front to take their wafer and a sip from a gold cup.

"What are we eating and drinking?" I asked.

"The blood and body of Christ," said my friend's brother.

Twilight Zone. The room got hot and I felt like running out the doors again.


My friend told me it was just wine and a wafer--but my Post Traumatic Church Disorder was kicking in full-force, and before I knew it I was standing in front of the priest with my mouth hanging opened like a carp.

"The body of Christ," said the priest, and I stood there blinking like a fool.

Nope again. I do NOT want to eat a piece of Christ.

After 20 or so uncomfortable seconds of silence, the priest told me I should not be there, and I should leave. 

I was kicked out of church.

There was no explanation. He was a bit angry too.

I have been to church several times since without bursting into flames. My wedding, my son's Christening, and several funerals went off without a hitch.
But I still cant quite shake the feeling that something is going to happen every time I walk through the doors...or that I will get my Eternal Life Free Pass revoked.

So for now at least, I will stay away, and keep my immortal status.