Stephen King wrote about how he knew there was no monster under the bed, for sure, but he also knew if he tucked his feet beneath the covers the monster wouldn’t be able to grab his ankle.
I’m one of them there skeptical types. I don’t believe in any of that crap. Astrology, homeopathy (Christ on a crutch, what a racket!), angelology…etc. I used to be a professional psychic. My cynicism on these subjects knows no bounds. Psuedo-medicine in particular drives me crazy.
But I still pull out the Tarot cards now and then. I still get scared if I read too many “true” ghost stories, even though I know beyond any doubt they’re a bunch of baloney. I still think I saw a UFO, regardless of how aware I am of my own (everyone’s) potential weakness as an eye witness to anything ever. I know I didn’t, yet deep inside, something insists I did.
So what’s your superstition-slash-psychotic break stuff like?
I don’t believe in physics. If my husband and I jumped off a cliff at the same time he would definitely hit first. (He outweighs me by 80 pounds, that’s why…also he’s taller.)
Also, if you are cruising along the Interstate and somebody in the car says, “Wow, the traffic isn’t so bad today,” you will hit an immense traffic jam within minutes. The immensity of the traffic jam will be in direct proportion to the number of people in the car who responded to the first statement with something like, “That’s silly, it doesn’t work like that.”
I have seen two or three things that in our culture would be interpreted as “ghostly”. I know there’s no such thing. And if the phenomena actually occurred, I’m totally unconvinced that they’re the spirits of dead people. Nevertheless, I damn well know what I saw, even though it goes against everything I think about reality.
Every once in a blue moon I try to use my non existent telekinetic powers. Or as I like to call it my “Inner Jedi”
It usually happens in situations like; say I’m feeling lazy sitting on my Lazy Boy watching TV and I want to change the channel. The only problem is the remote is sitting clear on the other side of the living room. So before actually getting up, I’ll throw my hand out in true Jedi fashion and say “Come to me remote. Come to me now.”
So far, the closest this has actually come to working is when my GF witnessed my loony ass doing this and begrudgingly got up and got it herself so she could hand it to me. All the while giving me one of these: :rolleyes: while doing so.
Right along the lines of what I thought when I saw the thread title. Packers not only to win it all, but to beat the stinkin’ Bears by 50 today.
I’m right with King, BTW. In Amityville Horror II, there’s a scene where the guy is laying in bed and it looks like the devil is jumping on his belly. Since that night, I’ve either had a shirt or sheet covering myself, even if it looks like I’m trying to fasten a sash. I’m somehow, at age 33, convinced a thin sheet of cotton or satin will protect my innards from the dancing shoes of the evil. :smack:
I gotta put a word in for the Tarot. I never “believed” in it. But I think it’s way cool. A convient, artistic, visual (which tends to be how I think) way to access your instincts. I’ve done “readings” for people who have been very grateful. And been torn between saying “What? I have no idea what I’m talking about.” and “Well if it helps you see something about yourself, good thing.” I do hate to think they think it was the cards and not themselves, but sometimes you need that.
To answer the OP I’ve entertained (“Another crab puff? Can I freshen your drink?”) about every stupid idea. I’m the ultimate agnostic. But the worst is that the fundementalist Christians are right and that really the way the world works. I think this sometimes at night. And I want out.
I know for a fact that ghosts can’ t and don’t exist. I also know for a fact that I will keep a constant watch out for them in any semi-dark building. I have been wrong before and the stakes are just too high.
Sorry to quash any intrigue, but it really wasn’t any kind of hardcore delusion or mental illness and my upbringing was not religious in any shape or form.
It was just one of those typical introspective teenage musings that you get when you go beyond the pure knowledge-gathering stage of childhood and start to question life and your existence for the first time. You know, when you stare up at the night sky in the park with your friends and talk about eternity?
It dawned on me that if the concept of Jesus returning to Earth is true, then why couldn’t I could be him (Him?). I mean, all I know and feel and see is inside my own head, so why shouldn’t I be some sort of central focal point of the Universe? I know it sounds silly, but I had a feeling that I really was different, that I really had some purpose to go on to great things. Chalk it up to childhood vanity if you will, but it was never about thinking ‘how great I was’, the feeling ran much deeper.
But haven’t we all had these thoughts at some time in our life? That this is all for us? That we were the Trumans at the centre of a show? That we are somehow unique at a higher level? That we know something that others don’t?
Of course, I look back at these naive assumptions with good humour and maintain that I am of perfectly sound mind in my adulthood
I get where you’re coming from, Hogwash. I had a similar epiphany when I was about 9 or 10 that I could have been born in Ethiopia, or born a squirrel, and how would I know, if I had been born thus? And during my adolescence I was constantly aware of my “special” nature, like I had some kind of gift and the world would eventually recognise it. Then I grew up and realised my specialness was hogwash (sorry).
At 22 I still “believe” that if you’re in bed with your feet sticking out from under the covers, monsters will get you. I belive that the only way to be monster-proof is to be covered as much as you can with the blankets/sheets. Tucked in around the feet and the body, pulled up around the neck (hubby and I have separate blankets, not because of this I might add). If it’s really monster-iffic night, then the head also must be covered and only the nose and mouth may poke out a little for breathing purposes.
Even though I know there’s no rational reason for this, I am still deathly afraid of ghosts.
My boyfriend does this. He sits and holds his hand outstretched towards the thing he wants with a look of upmost concentration on his face until I get sick of it and just go get it for him. Then he calls me his force power.
He also plays off my fear of ghosts and monsters all the time. One time wrapping himself in a whole role of paper towers and standing in a corner of a darkened hallway until I walked by. :eek: Scared the crap out of me!
I know it’s not true…BUT…
I swear there are “Powers That Be” that choreograph the other drivers to work in series to delay me, and the more urgent the need to make time, the greater the number and higher the degree of absurdity. A school bus doing 20 mph at 6:30 in the evening; the old woman that is doing 10 mph and stopping in the street to read each and every street name, the mail truck stopping at every house with a constant stream of on-coming traffic so as to block me from passing.
This stuff just CAN’T be a coincidence!
I’m pretty much still afraid of the dark and being alone in building, even if it’s familiar.
Aliens and ghosts terrified me as a kid, so even thought I’m older and much more skeptical, a truly well crafted ghost story gets me all scared and paranoid.
In a weird way though I’ve come to enjoy it, fear of silly things can be as refreshing as watching sad movies.
I believe that I can control stop lights with a snap of my fingers. This is what developed after years of using my mind to open sliding doors at grocery stores.
In truth I know it is just a keenly developed sense of timing as I see the crosswalk blink or the other lights change.
