Personal update of a sorts

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I am in the middle of a whirlwind of real life stuff, some personal relationship things, but also a complete redefining of myself as a person – but also struggling to find my creative outlet. These last months I have been trying to launch my etsy shop, which has not gone super well (understatement of the year – cause actually it has only been a expense to me). But I have earned a little making shawls on commissions, though I know I should charge more for these things, cause actually I think I make like maybe 10 quid, the rest is to cover yarn and postage.

I have some plot points lying about, I struggled with the deep space story, so I don’t know man… tried with shorter things on reddit – that didn’t go super well either, even if one of them actually got narrated on youtube by someone. I want to write something good, and well plots are like fine wine, they need time, I do collect ideas and stuff when I watch my gazillion documentaries while crocheting, so I think I might be able to piece something together eventually. =) When I do, you will be the first to know. I am however returning more and more to my first lazy draft of a thing called ‘spinner’, but I think ima use it in a different context.

I did plan on making more vlogs in the future, but first of all I need the space to do it, which I just don’t these days. But what I CAN get better at is blogging.

You are always welcome to come find me on either tumblr, twitter or facebook – I suck at updating either, so there’s that.

 

…What if?

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So I promised to write a little somthing about that creepypasta I stumbled across, called “The blanket monster”. Not so much about the creepypasta, but more about what it made me think of.

Alright so what is fear? What are you afraid of? Quite simple it’s the what if’s that is the most frightening. We all know that shapeshifters doesn’t exist, but what if they do? It’s easy to doubt your logic when you are walking down a dark wooded area.

And really it’s the same with more logical things like terrorists, if they’d only call in advance and let you know that they were gonna hijack that plane, or bomb that building, things would be fine, right? But they don’t, and we’re back to the what if’s, because what if it’s your plane? What if it’s today at your office?

That is what fear is made of, uncertainty about when something bad is gonna happen, wether they have a rifle or 3 rows of teeth.

And what is it in this creepypasta that works so well? Maybe I am all alone in thinking it’s scary? I don’t know. But have you even lain in bed and wondered if the person next to you, is the person you think it is? Or wondered if it’s really your mom in the basement, or if the familiar noises are just there to ease you down there? Or maybe felt something lay down at the footend of your cover, not wanthing to open your eyes, because what if your dog still laying on the floor?

That is what is working so well in this creepypasta, that childhood fear that we never really rid ourselves from, the fear of something “normal” suddenly becomming alien and frightening. When I was a kid I had a room upstairs, but I was afraid of staying upstairs alone, so I would make my fosterdad stand there at the bottom of the stairs while I sprintet upstairs to get some toys, he would always make fun of me and make ghost noises and growling noises to mess with me. And that was not what scared me really, what scared me was the thought of, what if it was not my fosterdad making those noises? What if that growling noise from the bottom of the stairs were suddenly mirrored right behind me? Needless to day I fucking hated fetching toys upstairs.

And when I grew older and got home late from the local youthclub, I’d have to take my bike into the garage, now my fosterparents garage was pretty oldschool, you’d have to jimmy your hand in between the door and the wall to reach the lightswitch, and flip the lock of the door to make it swing open. It was a reoccouring nightmare to me, I still remember having to stick my hand in there in the dark to turn on the lights, and on top of that it was one of those old “timed” switches, so the light would go out after a specific amount of time, like you have on the staircases of large estate buildings. So I’d wait for the lights to flicker on, it was those long tubes so it took some time for them to stop flickering, and you really did not have time to wait because then the light would go out whlie you were in there. The garage door was a huge door that was mostly like an overgrown yard door, so it swung up sideways, but because it was so big and heavy it was not held up properly and would get stuck midway. You have no idea how scared I was going into that garage, every goddamn weekend, and sometimes on weekdays. So what I did was to swing the door open before I turned on the lights, and the moment I turned on the lights I’d go in and look behind the half open garage door to see if anyone was hiding behind it, and the take my bike in, and as quick as possible, preferbly before the lights went off, slammed the garage door behind me, but if you slammed too hard, the latch would not click down, and you’d have to do that manually, ergo stick your hand into the darkness to lock it in place.

My fosterdad sometimes thought it was hillarious, if he was in the garden by night (yeah so he liked to piss in the garden by night – don’t ask) and/or was waiting for the dog to finish up outside before going to bed, to do the same thing as with the stairs when I was younger, the whole ghost/growl thing. Luckily he was never so cruel as to hide behind the garage door, or grab my hand as I stuck it in between the door and the wall. Had he done that I’m sure i’d had a hearattack, seriously.

I know it’s a theme here on this blog, the ‘what if’ things aren’t as I think they are? Very matrix’ish really. And nothing of course ever happened while i fetched toys from upstairs, or parked my bike in the garage – but what if that one time I forget to be afraid and on guard, is the time that it strikes? I might still have my childhood imagination, and I’m not sure that I as an adult would actually be brave enough to do the garage routine differently if I had to.

Cause you just never know…

Anybody there?

I can’t believe I never talked about Ouija boards in this blog. Just to set one thing straight, I have played around with those things all through my damn teens, and I never got anything remotely interesting out of it, so I would say that my belief in it as a doorway or a window to the realm of spirits is a litte vague. Maybe it’s a different story if you are doing it with someone who’s a medium, maybe they aren’t even aware that they are one, but it’s not like the spirits care what you write on your business card.

What strikes me are the many stories about the spirit called Zozo, and I am sure that some, if not most of them are bullshit. But that still leaves a small percentage to be true, which I am willing to believe. But have you ever stopped to think about the fact that spirits are always talking in your native tongue? I mean Zozo encounters are mention from all corners of the world, but does Zozo really speak both Chinese, English, Swahili and Finnish – Or?

I am no stranger to spirits, and one thing I leaned is that they always lie, they never ever tell the truth. They tell you what you need to know in order to react in a certain way, or what you want to hear so you relax and believe the rest of their crap. I don’t know why it is so, but I have yet to encounter any shape or form of entity that is remotely truthful. Like I said on that other blog that I have solely for the purpose to write down my personal paranormal experiences, then even their apperance can vary because they show you what you want to or expect to see. So recieve information from a spirit is like solving a rebus, they send me pictures in quick flashes and I have to do the association thing. And I would even go so far as to say it can behave differently from me to you.

I can’t say for sure that ouija boards doesn’t work, I don’t know man, just because it never worked for me doesn’t mean that it’s not true. Now if you google Zozo you get a bunch of stuff like this and this that you can read through if you’re bored. But what strikes me with both those sites is that they talk about this spirit as a demon. Now one thing you need to know about me is that I am a lifelong Atheist, and I simply do not believe in demons or angels or any other bizarre fantasy critters like unicorns or talking frogs. But I do believe in evil, and I know that pure evil exist, and maybe these people get that confused, cause a malevolent spirit can cause a shitstorm of trouble, and I can see how you can get those terms confused, and again that is just my own personal opinion on that. No matter how you twist and turn this, the fact is that there are a LOT of Zozo stories out there, and is that a coincidence?