Do you believe in Ghosts?
Feb. 20th, 2007 01:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hellsbountyhunter...Do I believe in ghosts?
That's tough see. Cause' at one point? I would've said no. Contrary to popular belief, growing up with Carnies didn't instill me with all sorts of weird superstitions. We did not hold satanic rituals once the carnival closed down (Or if we did, I wasn't privy to anything) I mean, there were things..
Okay. There were things. But what do you expect? The urge to move's not unique to one religion or group of folks. S'spread. Throw in all those people like that and you've got a soup or chili that'll burn even the strongest stomaches. I mean, people'd chant, we had one guy who worked for a month who ran with the Hari Krishna.
But I never believed in ghosts, because the idea of death always seemed so far away. Hell, My dad jumped through fire on a regular basis. These guys preached 'bout an afterlife that didn't exist for me.
Until I made the deal.
And my dad died.
...After I left, I'd hear something and jerk awake, imagining that he was standin' right beside me. Spot him in crowds and things like that. It was my imagination of course, but after a while I started wondering.
I think I knew. I think I knew something was off after that. Wrong with me. Off Kilter. I was a busted bike without a spoke. Tires without tread. Lackin' in something, but picking up all sorts of new vibrations that left me unhinged and driftin' on the road of life. I think that's why...I started learning about the occult. Your bike breaks, you learn to fix it. You study the mechanics of a jump before you do it. Simple.
It provided hundreds of different explinations. But I needed only the one. There was somethin' else out there. Something Evil and Something good.
I just never figured it'd come gunning for me, that's all.
That's tough see. Cause' at one point? I would've said no. Contrary to popular belief, growing up with Carnies didn't instill me with all sorts of weird superstitions. We did not hold satanic rituals once the carnival closed down (Or if we did, I wasn't privy to anything) I mean, there were things..
Okay. There were things. But what do you expect? The urge to move's not unique to one religion or group of folks. S'spread. Throw in all those people like that and you've got a soup or chili that'll burn even the strongest stomaches. I mean, people'd chant, we had one guy who worked for a month who ran with the Hari Krishna.
But I never believed in ghosts, because the idea of death always seemed so far away. Hell, My dad jumped through fire on a regular basis. These guys preached 'bout an afterlife that didn't exist for me.
Until I made the deal.
And my dad died.
...After I left, I'd hear something and jerk awake, imagining that he was standin' right beside me. Spot him in crowds and things like that. It was my imagination of course, but after a while I started wondering.
I think I knew. I think I knew something was off after that. Wrong with me. Off Kilter. I was a busted bike without a spoke. Tires without tread. Lackin' in something, but picking up all sorts of new vibrations that left me unhinged and driftin' on the road of life. I think that's why...I started learning about the occult. Your bike breaks, you learn to fix it. You study the mechanics of a jump before you do it. Simple.
It provided hundreds of different explinations. But I needed only the one. There was somethin' else out there. Something Evil and Something good.
I just never figured it'd come gunning for me, that's all.
