Sunday, July 12, 2020

Growing up with Spirits: My Philosophy

Hello again y’all, it’s Heidi. First things first, I wanted to express how grateful I am to all of the wonderful people out there who read my very first entry. It was something I never had an interest in doing, and frankly, it was something I was afraid of. Seeing the support that was given to me made me feel glad that I decided to do something a little out of my comfort zone. So, thank you all.
Now, my first entry was about a scary situation in one of the many paranormal experiences I’ve had. I feel like that’s the sort of thing that draws people in. However, I think it’s important to remember that spirits, or ghosts, or whatever you choose to call them, are not always scary. At least not for me, that is. I’ve grown up with paranormal activity in my daily life, so I could just blame my lack of fear on me getting used to it, but I think it’s mainly because I learned.
I remember getting advice from when we were filming our episode of The Dead Files and also from the reiki master who helped us afterward. The big thing was that you, as a living being, have a body. And with that body, you have power and you are in control if you believe it. If something or someone is bothering you or making you uncomfortable, just tell them to stop calmly. Be polite, because they are still a soul even if they don’t have a body.
Even though the show is over and my house is pretty much back to normal, there are still plenty of times where I have encounters with spirits. I can’t see them or hear them like my dad can, but I seem to be very sensitive to their presence. I can feel them looking over my shoulder or sitting beside me, just like how it feels like when a living person is doing those things. For some, it may send a shiver up their spine, but I welcome them. I treat them as an equal. If they are interested in what I’m doing, I show it to them. I speak to them just as if they were alive. If I feel uncomfortable, I just tell them to stop whatever they happen to be doing because I don’t like it. And 99% of the time, they listen and stop. 
We hear a lot about the bad stories about ghosts, but a lot of things seem to be misunderstood. I think about it this way, I put myself in their shoes. People are typically afraid of dying, even though it’s natural and it’s best to just accept it. Imagine that fear, combined with the confusion of what they do after they’re dead. Imagine being stuck on Earth as a spirit and not knowing what to do or where to go. You’d call out to people for help, or maybe just for company. I feel like showing kindness to the dead could help them calm down, if only just for a minute.
There are many kind spirits, just as there are many kind living people in the world. Treat them just as you would any other person, that’s my personal belief. If you put out negative energy, you might just receive that negative energy back. That’s what I think. That could just be my optimistic side showing, though.
Before I go, I have a favor to ask. Aside from being that kid on the ghost show, I also am a singer/songwriter and I make my own music. I currently have one of my songs released on Spotify, Apple Music, iTunes, Youtube, and many other music streaming services. I’m also getting an album together, as I write these blogs, to post on those streaming services as well. If you would give my music a listen, it would mean the world to me. You can also follow me on places like Spotify and get updates when my new music is out if you do like it. Here is the link where you can choose where you want to listen if you choose to check it out. Thank you so much for your support, and thank you for reading!

Tuesday, July 7, 2020

Possession in a Child's Perspective

Hello, viewers of the blog, it’s Heidi. At long last, you get to hear from me if you ever had any interest in what I have to say. I guess I’ll start off by saying that I never wrote anything before because I don’t like looking back on what happened to my family and I. Those are some of the worst years of my life, so naturally, I wouldn’t want to reflect on them or even go back and remember the slightest detail. I mean, some of the stuff possibly caused by our issues with the paranormal is still affecting me today. It was only just recently that I got my medical issues and auto-immune disease under control, and I’m 16 now. So it’s been a bit. But now, I’ve grown somewhat, and I think I can share a bit with you all.
I’m not quite sure where to start, because there was just so much that happened. I also tend to block things off and forget them so I don’t have to deal with them, so there are scary experiences I don’t quite remember. Cause after seeing your dad get possessed multiple times, you’d want to forget it too. Actually, how about I talk about that?
I don’t remember what age I was or anything like that, but I do remember waking up to my little sister, Emi, shaking me and bawling. I could hear my mom yelling at me to wake up, and I was so lost and confused. I walk out of my bedroom to see my dad sitting crisscrossed on my front porch, eyes closed, and mumbling something in a language I’d never heard before. It was the first time I’d ever looked at someone, who I’d seen almost every day of my life, and think, “That’s not him”. It’s an eerie feeling. 
He then reaches out to Emi and says something, trying to grab her. She, of course, screams and starts crying even more because to her, that’s a stranger. I’m still stuck in shock and am not sure what to feel, but I followed what my mom told me. I grabbed Emi and ran outside with her, both of us barefoot and draped in our blankets. We run across our gravel driveway to the neighborhood across from us to reach our neighbors for help. After we’re on the road and running there, the shock wears off and I start bawling just like Emi. Thinking about it now, we must’ve been a sight to the other neighbors. Two young girls wrapped up in their blankets running barefoot in the middle of the street and crying. But when it’s happening to you, and you’re a kid, you’re just trying to reach some normalcy and safety. You don’t really care about what you look like.
We finally made it to the neighbors and we had ended up staying there for a bit. I’m extremely grateful that they were able and willing to help. I remember staying in the guest room, looking out the window, and seeing dozens of police cars and ambulances outside of my house. Everything ran through my head so fast. “Oh my god, what happened? Is Dad ok? Is Mom ok?”, those kinds of thoughts. But you can’t go and check because you’re too scared and it’s too dangerous. I sort of felt helpless.
Moral of the story is, getting possessed, or watching someone get possessed, is terrifying. It’s unpredictable. One minute you’re you, and the next you’re someone your children are terrified of, yet you still look the same. That’s the scary part.

Saturday, July 4, 2020

Did you just slap my ass?

Living in a small house with an open bedroom means there is not a lot of privacy, especially for Jennifer and me.  So, when we get a opportunity to get some "quality time" together, we need to take it because we don't know when it will present itself again.  One day in particular we had a chance and we took it.  

Jennifer had just put Emi down for a nap and I was taking a lunch break.  A touch lead to a kiss, which lead to an embrace, which lead to us quietly sneaking into the back bedroom and locking the door for some afternoon delight.

It had been awhile since we had some adult time together so there was a lot excitement and passion.  We were really getting after it and maybe this type of activity creates a lot of energy.   We both could sense something, or somebody, was watching us however we were too caught up in moment to really care.  It had been so long for us so we really didn't care if somebody was watching.  Too each their own, I guess.

I want to say that I recall jokingly saying something along the lines of , "you can watch but you can't join.  Not looking for ghostly threesome."

"This moment is for us, not you", I added.

As our bliss was ending, or ended I cannot recall, the room was weirdly calm.  Of course we both still wanted more but alias it wasn't meet to be.  Hey, it had been awhile, remember?  I was laying on top of Jennifer with her on the bed and me standing on the floor and as I was lifting myself up, it happened.  Out of nowhere someone slapped my ass so hard it sounded like a firecracker had just gone off.  

"Did you just slap my ass?", I asked Jennifer.

"No, I didn't, I swear, but I heard it!", she responded.

Even as I was asking the question, I knew it could not have been her as she still had her arms around me with her hands on shoulders.  I immediately jumped up and looked around the room.

"Oh my God!  You have a huge hand-print on your ass!"  Jennifer said excitedly.

I immediately turned around and looked back into a mirror.  Yep, there was a big red hand-print that nearly covered one of my ass cheeks.   Holly shit, I had just been slapped on the ass by a ghost, I thought to myself!  

Of course Jennifer found this totally hilarious.  

"Maybe, it's telling you to get back on that horse cowboy." ,  she said as she laughed.

Needless to say, I was not too happy with what had just happened and certainly wasn't pleased with the big hand-print on my ass.   It literally took over an hour for it to start fading.   That should tell you how hard I got popped.

Looking back at this experience, I'm still not sure what to make of it.   Was it the energy we created?  Was it a jealous spirit that didn't like me making love to my wife?   Maybe it was spirit that saw an opportunity to have some mischievous fun?   Who knows why it happened and thankfully it never happened again.

In the end my ass healed and we got to enjoy some playtime together, so the pleasure was well worth the pain.   

Sorry folks, no pictures of that hand-print on my ass.


Friday, June 19, 2020

The Chill of an Early Fall

While our experiences were raging on, I always seemed to dread the upcoming Fall season.  Not that anything in particular happened, it just seemed that more happened.  Well, at least it appeared that more happened.  Maybe it was just my heightened senses to the change in seasons.   The leaves were changing, Fall decorations were out, and the morning air was getting crisp.  Everything was going into hiding from the upcoming Winter.  Looking back, I can recall two incidents that still stick out to me which seemed to have some correlation to the change in seasons.

Every Fall, in September, Kearney holds the Jesse James Festival.  It's over the course of 3 weekends and celebrates the western heritage of the town, not necessarily the outlaw it's named after.  I truly feel that celebrating the past, especially ones where violence and lawlessness ran rampant, will create an opening for spirits and other things to walk through.  The more tumultuous the past, the more hostel those who return.  

Sometimes good intentions during one of these types of celebrations can have unexpected consequences.  That's what happened during the Jesse James Festival in the Fall of 2013.  I have a good friend who owned a western leather shoppe and I told him I would help him set up his vendor booth at Jesse James Park the night of the rodeo.   I was excited to help and looked forward to doing so. The day was just like any other day, nothing too special but I was in a great mood; happy and energetic.  I was finally spending some time at home after a long stretch of travel.  The weather was nice and the temperature was a little below normal.  I knew that it would be a beautiful night and I was looking forward to helping my friend and watching the rodeo.    

I was wrapping things up towards the end of the day so I could start getting ready to go.  All of the sudden, without any warning whatsoever,  I immediately felt ill.  I started sweating, had chills, I developed a fever, and felt nauseated.  I had not eaten anything that day which would have caused me to get sick and I hadn't felt even the slightest bit sick either.   As I made my way upstairs, I started to vomit and ran to the bathroom.  I had the drive heaves and my eyes started to water and my vision became blurry.  I felt as if I was going to pass out.   I somehow made it out of the bathroom but only as far as Chloe's room.  I collapsed on her bed, shaking and feeling like I'd been hit by a bus.  Jennifer called my friend and told him I wasn't going to be able to make it.

Just as fast as it started, it was over.  I immediately felt better as soon as Jennifer told me not to worry about going to Jesse James Park.  I feel as if something wanted to keep me home and away from the fairgrounds for some reason.  I now feel that "something" was the crazy lady trying to control me and keep me from other people.  Thankfully, I never had another episode like it again.  However if you're an avid reader of the blog, you that crazy bitch wasn't done with me.

Another incident that happened one year in early October involved my desk.   During the time we were dealing with the revolving door of spirits, I had my office in the basement.   It was a quiet place for me to work.   I would come upstairs to eat, use the bathroom, or grab something to eat throughout the day.  One afternoon, I came upstairs to grab something out of our bedroom.  Jennifer, Londyn, and Londyn's now husband, Jordan were in the kitchen.  I was in the bedroom for no more than a couple of minutes and went back down stairs.   As I got to my office area I stopped dead in my tracks.  There was my desk, turned upside down with everything that was on it positioned the same place as if it were upright.   I was pissed off and stormed back upstairs because I was certain was Jennifer, Londyn, and Jordan playing a prank.

"Are ya'll fucking with me!"  I yelled at them.

They had no clue what I was talking about.  I explained to them about my desk and we all went down stairs to look at it.

"I swear if ya'll fucking with me, I'm going to be so pissed because I don't got time for stupid shit like this!", I said.

They all said they had nothing to do with it and after I calmed down, I realized they would have never had the time to pull it off with such detail.  I finally realized that it was something being mischievous or sending a message that they were in the control.

Maybe the messages being sent from these two experiences was that just like the change of the seasons, they could change my environment too;  reminding me that the chill in the air was not always due to the Fall.
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Sunday, May 31, 2020

Phases

One of the most challenging things about our post-experience was adjusting to our new lives.  Let's face it, when Steve said you look like you've been hit by a Mack Truck during our reveal that was an understatement.

After our reveal, we were reeling.  We were overwhelmed and had no idea of what was going to happen next.  We knew what we needed to do but doing so meant time and energy.  More importantly, the "energy" part.  We were tired and beaten down, it took every ounce of energy just to make it through the day.  If you are a reader of our blog you know that, thankfully, we were able to pull ourselves up by the boot straps and get it done.

Getting back to normal for us was kind of like handling this pandemic we are all facing;  you open back up in phases.  

Phase One:  Get the shit out that was terrorizing us and keep it out
Phase Two:  Recover and get help for what we went through.
Phase Three:  Learn to live with our newly discovered abilities and gain control.
Phase Four:  Fully open.  Help support others who may be experiencing things and have nowhere to turn.

Phases one and two were tough and there were times that I did not think we would make it.  Thankfully with support from many people, including all of The Dead Files fans and blog readers, we were able to to it.  Do we have relapses?  Sure, every now and then things get a little weird but we push through it.

Phases Three and Four are not as challenging but do have their own sets of nuances that make handling them unique.  I want to focus on Phase Three because I think everyone is fully aware of our mission to help others.

Phase Three is a continuing and ongoing process.   You have to trust your own abilities and respect the abilities of others.  Trusting your own abilities means opening yourself up to what is beyond the scope of your own consciousness.  However before you do that, you damn sure better learn how to control what is beyond your own environment.  That is the tricky part.  

Some people think that if you want to know what the party is like, you have to be a participate. They think you have to join the crowd and be a part of the festivities to get a true grasp of what it's all about.  However that can come with consequences.  You do not know if those at the party are truly who they say they are and whether or not they are there to do harm.  God forbid if one of them follows you home.  

Through trial and error, I've learned the opposite.  You can open the door and stand in the doorway and watch.  If you don't like what you see or get even the smallest sense that something is not right, you close the door and leave.  However not before telling everyone that you are not to be followed.

Dealing with your abilities means you will be invited to a lot of "after parties" for the souls who have passed.  Learn to trust your abilities. Once you set foot inside, you need to have a heightened sense of awareness. Protecting yourself is your highest priority despite your thirst of the unknown.  My motto is, "when in doubt, get the hell out."   You can control everything if you learn how to control yourself.  Cleanse and protect yourself, as well as your home.   Be diligent about it too.  Just because things seem calm does not mean something is not lurking in the shadows waiting to get inside. Trust your abilities.

Trusting your abilities means you must respect the abilities of others.  If someone says they sense, feel, see or tell you something is happening, take it face value and act accordingly.  If you question what you are hearing, you may under-react or not react at all.  For us, if one of us senses anything we react immediately, no questions asked.

Like I said earlier,  all of this is still new to us and we are continuity learning.  Never doubt yourself or those near to you.  If you do, you'll be amazed at the wonders you will see.  Everything your experience will teach you how to react in the future.

Monday, May 18, 2020

Not Everything was Scary

People are always quick to assume that when you are dealing with the paranormal, it is always going to be something scary.  In most cases, at least from the ones that I have heard about, that is true and our experience certainly had it's horrific moments that caused a lot of stress, fear, and anxiety.  However, that wasn't always the case.  Throughout our haunting, there were moments when some things were just comical.  Not sure who or what it was that decided practical jokes were a good way to get our attention but at least it was a break from the horrifying things.

"Where did my underwear go?"

So, this is something that didn't make the show.  It was just too funny and our producer busted out laughing when we told him the story.  It just didn't fit the theme and the flow of the show so it ended up on the cutting room floor.

One evening, I can't remember exactly when, I was folding laundry in the open bedroom.  I had just finished folding and putting away my underwear and I left to put some clothes away in another room. When I came back, the drawer where my underwear was was pulled completely out of the dresser and my underwear was piled back on the bed.   Needless to say I was not pleased.

Even though I was mad, I didn't make a big deal about what happened.  I put the drawer back inside the dresser, folded my underwear again, and put them away.  I then left the room to get more laundry.  When I came back, the drawer was open and my underwear were laid neatly on the bed, thankfully, still folded.

At this point, I was frustrated and said, "That's enough! Stop it!" as I put them back into the drawer; again.

When I came back into the room later in the evening.   The drawer was still closed and nothing was on the bed.  I thought to myself that I finally got through to whomever it was.  I thought everything was cool and we had reached an understanding that my underwear was off limits.

Well, I guess whomever it was decided that my underwear was just too tempting.  When I went to get a pair out of the drawer there were none to be found.  I looked in each drawer, under and around the bed, and even under the mattress.  Gone, they were all gone.  I only had the pair I was wearing, that was it.

A day with by and another and another.  No underwear to be found and going commando was not an option.  I was forced to begrudgingly buy new underwear.

I was frustrated that I was forced to by new ones but I slowly got over it until few days later, Emi comes into the house giggling,  "Dad, all your underwear is in the back of your truck."

I head out to the garage and sure enough, there's all my underwear throw into the bed of my truck.  As I was getting them out to wash them again, because, hey, you don't know where they've been, I heard a child softly laughing.

"yea, you got me.  that was a good one, you're very funny", I said as I walked out of the garage.

So, if you ever faced with a mischievous spirit of a child, let them have them fun but guard your underwear!

Tuesday, March 24, 2020

Telling Signs of What Was to Come

When we look back at our lives and the events that shape them, there were usually signs along the way that warned us about what was to come.  I now realize certain things happened during my life which were indicators that something big was going to happen. 

The problem was I ignored them.  Talking about anything paranormal wasn't as widely accepted back then as it is today.   I didn't want people to think I was crazy or making things up to get attention.  So, I just held it inside and never really spoke about it.

Being raised by a military father meant that things in my world were black and white with very little grey areas.  My father did not accept excuses and had zero tolerance for bullshit.   Sharing anything remotely paranormal would have been totally unacceptable to him and nothing but an excuse for why I did or didn't do something.  Consequently, I kept my mouth shut and never mentioned any experiences whatsoever.   In hindsight, that was the wrong thing to do.

As I look back at my life, I can single out 3 experiences which I should have take much more seriously.

Number One-The Voice

My first paranormal experience happened when I was very young; around 6 or 7 years old.   We were living in Fort Worth, TX while my father was stationed at Carswell AFB.   I had a strict early bedtime and would usually just lay awake in my bed until I finally drifted off to sleep.  This particular evening was no different.   That night, my parents had some friends over to play cards.  I could hear them all talking as music played in the background.  I was focused on their voices because I found comfort in knowing that they we're near.  

As I lay there awake, my bedroom door slowly closed.  I didn't really think much of it because I thought my mom did it because they were being loud.   I continued to hear all four of them talking in at the kitchen table, the shuffling of cards and loud laughter.  I could make out each one of their voices.   

I heard my closet door open and then close.  Then it opened and closed again. I sat up but saw nothing.  It was a small room so I would have noticed if anyone was walking around.   I was clearly the only one in the room.   I could still hear the voices of my parents and their friends.  I was terrified.  I knew something was in there with me.  I could feel the tingle up my spine and I was shaking.  I jumped up on my bed and yelled for my parents but they didn't hear me.  I yelled louder but still nothing.  I yelled as loud as I could but I only heard talking and laughter.

As I was about to yell for them again, a voice interrupted me.  

"Shut up and lay down!", a deep male voice said.

I was frozen and speechless as I looked down in the direction of the voice.  No one there...no one.  I frantically looked around but I was the only one in the room. 

Terrified, I compiled and laid down my eyes still fixed on the bedroom door as I continue to hear the my parents and their friends in the kitchen.

I never mentioned what happened to my parents or anyone else.

Number Two-The Smile

When I was a freshman in high school, a friend and I accepted an odd job from one our neighbors.  The job was truly an "odd" but one I found very interesting because of my love for history.  It was cleaning up old abandoned cemeteries in and around rural areas just Northwest of Austin, TX.

The area was littered with small family and church cemeteries that were forgotten and neglected. Most of them dated back to late 1800's and early 1900's.

I remember the first one we went to.  It was full of brush and was overgrown with small trees.  You couldn't even tell it was a cemetery.  As we began to clear the landscape, the graves became visible.  I was fascinated by reading the headstones as most were dated form the 1800's.  My mind began to wonder who they were, what were like and how they died.  I found coins on top of the headstones and I wondered who put them there.  I picked one up, I was overcome with grief and sorrow.  It was as if I was at their funeral feeling the pain of their loved ones.

One man's grave in particular caught my attention. The grave had sunken in and the lowering device was still outlining the grave.  The hand cranks were still inserted on it but the belts used to support the casket were long gone. It was as if they never finished the burial.  To this day, I remember the dates on headstone; 1801-1869. As I recall, he was last one to be buried at this cemetery.  He lived a full life and saw so many things.   My imagination began to run wild.   Was he here during the Texas War of Independence?  Did he serve during that?  What brought him to Texas and what did he do here?  I stood there mesmerized.

Soon I was overcome with sadness  I felt that something must had happen for them not to finish the burial.  My sadness turned to determination to finish what should have been done over a 100 years ago.  I moved the lowering device and grabbed a shovel.  I started to fill up his grave with the dirt we had brought for planting some bushes. I found a rock that made perfect foot-stone and cleaned the headstone.   I stood at the base of the grave and said a prayer.  I then bent down and placed some wild flowers I had found next to the headstone.  As I stood back up, there he was, standing there.  I could see him clear as day.  He was dressed in a black suit with a ribbon bow tie.

I wasn't scared at all, as a matter of fact I felt an overwhelming rush of calmness.  We looked at each other and he smiled.  I remember feeling at peace as he turned and disappeared.

Although it was a very surreal experience, I felt a sense of satisfactory from it. I never spoke to anyone about it and never shared the experience until now.

Number Three-The Call

When I was in 8th grade I lost my uncle to a car accident.  It was devastating because I loved him very much.   To this day, I think of him often.  He will quickly cross my mind literally out of nowhere.  No rhyme or reason to it.

I recall a time when I was 25 or 26 years old and living alone.  I was watching TV and the phone rang.  When I answered there was only static so I hung up.  I didn't think much of it.  I figured they'd call back.   I went back to watching TV and the phone rang again, this time was a high pitch static and the person on the other end said "Hello?".  However, before I could answer them, the call disconnected. I thought maybe it was one of friends calling and they had a bad connection.

After awhile, I forgot all about it and was getting ready for bed when the phone rang again.   Once again, nothing but static but this time not quite as bad.  I said "Hello" a couple of times but nothing.  Just as I was about to hang up the person on the other end answered.

"Lance?  This is your Uncle Jerry.  Tell your mom I'm alright."

The call then disconnected.  My heart sank over what I had just heard.  The voice on the other end did sound like him but how could that be?

I immediately did a *69 but got a recording saying the number I just dialed was no longer in service.

Shell-shocked about what just happened I quickly called my mother.   I first said that what I was about to tell her was going to be unbelievable but it truly happened.  Surprisingly she was very open and non-judgmental about it.

I remember her telling me that she thought of him often but recently had been thinking of more than usually.

I guess sometimes the need to comfort the ones you love knows no barriers.

As I look back at these 3 experiences, I wish I would had accepted the fact that things were not always black and white.  There are truly grey areas and you need to pay attention to those.   I feel if I would have been more open after those experiences, my family wouldn't have suffered as they did.   I think  we should all be more open to the belief that there are things out there and if you don't pay attention or respect them, we may pay the price.

So, with this all being said, I continue to encourage anyone who is suffering through something to get help as soon as you can.   If you are experiencing things that you just can't explain or try to dismiss as nothing, accept and learn from them.  If you don't there's no telling what may happen.

Saturday, January 18, 2020

Ghost or Spirits or things that go bump in the night

We're often asked do we believe in "Ghost" now.  The short answer is yes, especially after our experiences.  However, it's not that easy of an answer.   We don't necessarily believe in word "Ghost" as a descriptive word for what we've experienced.  Granted, the description of our blog contradicts that statement as it's "...our ghost story.."  We use that because it's something others use and it's more identifiable to people.

So, if we don't believe in "Ghost" as a defining word then what exactly do we believe they are?  I think our descriptive terms go much deeper.

Our experiences lead to a more spiritual way of thinking as well as the concepts of what we believe haunted us.  "Ghost" was just too much of a general term to define things for us.  We knew we were dealing with something much deeper; spiritually as well as it's existence.

If they were here, then what exactly are they?  First, I want to say that we are not paranormal investigators so anything we say probably should be taken with a grain of salt when we answer this question.  There are many more people who have dedicated their lives to research this subject.  For us, it's just how we define it; nothing more.

After our experiences, our whole thought process changed.  We believe that although the people here had died in this world, they may not have died in others.  Maybe they left us and just moved to another dimension and, in the process of doing so, left a little bit of themselves behind here for us to see.  That part of themselves they left behind is not their ghost but something tangible of themselves.  Maybe it's a memory of what they experienced in our dimension that subconsciously they left behind because they no longer needed it or wanted it.   The more they left, the stronger it was.  We think they left their bad baggage behind and that's why we had the issues we had.   That bad baggage is constantly trying to reconnect with things it knows and hopefully reunite with remaining part so it can become whole again.   Maybe it even could pull back the part that left, trapping them in a state limbo between the dimensions.

It's a section of their soul and being.  It's that part of the soul that's lost or discarded.  Left behind intentionally or by accident maybe to deal with unfinished business or just no longer wanted.

To us they are not ghost but a fragmented section of  lost souls.

Not ghost...Misplaced and Discarded Peelings of Souls.  Left behind as a snake would leave it's shredded skin.


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Growing up with Spirits: My Philosophy

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