It is a sad world, Mrs Peel.
I have lived in a bygone age, when there was a different breed of human. (no offence to the younger generation)
Back in the days of Jenny Randle, when the subject was young.
Things were a lot better then, and people used to talk less and listen more.
Nowadays, we talk more and listen less. Whether it has all been said before......I am not sure?
One thing for sure, and that is the subject has grown and so have the suspicions.
I have dealt with some of the greats, including Dr Armen Victorian, Janet Borg, Jenny Randles and a few more.
Used to shut my mouth then, as the less I spoke, the more people wanted to listen.
This may sound strange, but if I can make one person think, out of three hundred people listening,then my time is not wasted.
Maybe, that makes me a preacher? (rules already broken?)
I dunno what has happened,whether it is the gods or myself?
Of course society, has it's ways of dealing with people like myself. It takes us through the treadmill of life...sometimes head first?
At times we fall 'tails end' and get spewed out with the rest of the failures of society?
Those who are failures accept their fate and others who are proud, claw back out again.
Life has not been too cruel to me, as it has to others!
I am now at the top of the league again, as I look down the 'mountain of hope' and see others climb the steep path. Some fall, others slip. We all fall down eventually. Some to the bottom, few lose their way and see 'love'. They disguise the pity that they see within themselves. As to see oneself through others, is not a nice thing.
To see the white sands and blue skies with the tingle of ocean spray, is but a dream and the longing of home to a few, but most see it here, with it's dismal sands and the decay of death...as they are truly lost!
I was about the same age as you, when I started wandering about the paranormal.
There used to be a guardian, standing outside blocking the living room window every three days. The only time I felt frightened, was when
my mother could not see him. When this happened, it stopped.
The usual story.....alien visitations in our (my friends and I) teens, visions...bipolar accusations and the craziest sucker on the planet.
I don't understand the power within my hands, as at times it frightens me.
You see Mrs. Peel...I write a lot. When I cannot get others to listen, I write poetry. They call me boring!
That is just me.
Thanks.
Same.
Cheers Jackal. Same to you. Most people in my school are pricks.
There are currently 1 users browsing this thread. (0 members and 1 guests)
Bookmarks