Thursday, October 30, 2014


Something strange and Supernatural

Wednesday, October 29, 2014


In the darkness I see well, Raven.

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Worse thangs

There was once a pathway which led to unknown depth of the forest, and there the sky was blue. I am sure of it. At the water's edge, there in the clearing, I let the cool liquid tickle my toes and embrace the soles of my feet. There, the moon came in with night and the blue within everything disappeared. I am sure the pathway leads to such places that I could not travel.

I stand at the crossroads watching the strange brown man put his guitar away into the black mouth of its hard leather case. I chance to speak.

"Sir, won't you play for me?"

The man looks up from underneath his sweaty brow. It is obvious that he is tired and mane something else is wrong too. He looks down the dirt road and hen back to me. He exhales right before he speaks his mind.

"I'd play ya a tune, but you're on the wrong road and I think it's broken."

I knew I must have looked confused because I felt confused.

"Sir, your guitar is broken? What's broken?"

The strange bown man looked down at the string thing and then chuckled.

"Why it's all broken, my dear. Don't know fo sho if it can be fixed again."

"Well, won't the devil get you another guitar,sir?"

That's when gat strange brown man stopped packing away his guitar and stood. He took one last look at his musical instrument and shook his head.

"E'en the devil get tired of foolin' with fools."

I left the pathway be in case there be worse things than the devil there.

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Sandra Dee

Sandy was always interested in ghosts and phantoms. Since she was a small child, she carried a little tape recorder inside her dress pocket. Even days while playing outside, when mother was not looking, Sandy jumped into the edge of the woods and went on a “ghost hunt”. Of course, Sandy never saw anything except a few small animals shooting from underneath the brush of the forest floor. Yes, Sandy would scream, but not because there were any ghosts around. Not until she grew older, at least.

During high school, Sandy and her friends, Jake and Malcolm joined an online organization called the Morbid Ghost Society. Here, they learned that it was possible to contact the dead, have conversations and even travel out of body to be with them. This ignited Sandy’s passions and took her for a ride into the mysterious reality of life after death. It was here that Sandy realized that ghosts were real. It was then that Sandy started her journey into the realms of darkness.

“I want to conduct the next session, Malcolm.” Sandy insisted. She swung her golden hair in his face and turned away from him. She pouted.

Malcolm rolled his eyes like always and handed the EVP meter over to Sandy. Malcolm was kind but sometimes irritable to the point where he wanted to have all the control within the group. He was the leader of the group, recruited from the Engineering class and he was in love with Sandy, secretly of course. Sandy needed his skills to lead them into the unknown. Jake was the silent one-mechanics were his fortay. He kept the equipment running and took on all physical aspects of the job. Sandy, well, Sandy was the dreamer, the one who never gave up.

“One day, we will find the real deal” She would say.

Malcolm always shook his head before he brushed her off. “Yeah yeah, we been looking for the entire year and all we have found is a few orbs and spirals in the photos. The meter is not picking up anything substantial either. Are you sure you want to keep doing this?”

“Yes, we are part of the organization now. It is our duty to report back to the site about our findings. We are about to find something amazing, I am telling you.”

It seemed bleak and dismal for the group. Travel expenses mounted, grades dropped and Sandy’s parents started enforcing their joke of a curfew. This forced Sandy to cut her sessions short. Jake’s girlfriend, Natalie got pregnant and Jake dropped out of the group.

“So, what do we do now, genius?” Sandy asked Malcolm.

Malcolm rolled his eyes again and headed off to Engineering. Sandy stood outside the Art History Class and fumed. She wanted to find them-she wanted her ghost.

Sandy found it too. One night after she came home from curfew, Sandy was lying across her bed wrapping her microphone cord mindlessly around her finger. Her thoughts were drifting around the room, wondering what she could do to take her mind off her ever mounting curiosity of the dead. She thought about Jake and wondered if she could possibly talk him into returning to the group. She thought about the orbs and wondered if she could return to the cemetery where they were captured. Sandy stop thinking and rolled over in bed. There, hovering above her was a white filmy form. It wavered above her, sending thin white tendrils out all around its shape. The tendrils curled and then drew back into the form.

“Oh my god!” Sandy gasped.

She reached for the camera but the camera had fallen onto the carpet. She started to rise and then the spector spoke to her.

“Sandy, we are lonely.”

Sandy realized that they phantom had spoken to her but somehow her ears could not process the words.

“Sandy, come.”

Sandy smiled and realized that she was holding her own. She was not afraid just startled.

“Come where?”

The apparition wavered and the voice spoke again. Sandy realized that the voice sounded mechanical, digital and broken. She realized the voice was coming from all around her. Reaching onto the floor, she felt around for the meter. When she found it and brought it close, she could hear the voice better.

“You are speaking through this, aren’t you?” Sandy held up the voice box and smiled.

“Yes, come.”

Sandy frowned “How?”

“Leave your body.”

Sandy lay back on the bed and dropped the meter. She knew how to conduct OBEs. She had worked on the experiment with her brother many years before. She was no stranger to the experience.

“Okay, I am ready.”

Sandy closed her eyes and let the realization pass over her, the heat of her body, the currents and the air. She saw the electricity, which reigns in all human bodies, pass from her toes to the top of her head. She grew warmer and then suddenly felt herself rising. The eyes of her soul opened and she saw the apparition. A wind passed through her and she turned. She saw her own body lying on the bed, with all the equipment piled on either side. Sandy felt exhilarated.

“Wow! I am free.”

As she spoke, Sandy turned back toward where the apparition floated. She was horrified. The apparition was no longer white and shimmering. The thing before her was dark, and its booming voice laughed.

“Thank you, my dear.”

Before Sandy could respond, the dark thing shot downward and into her form. In moments, her own body was animated, while she floated above it, pressed against the ceiling of her own room. Her body rose from the bed and looked up.

“See ya later, Sandy!”

She watched herself leave. She screamed.


In the realm of the dead, it wasn’t cold and it wasn’t hot. I was nothing. Sandy had no form, but Sandy was there. The very idea that she no longer existed was horrifying to her. She had no arms, no legs and no face. Sandy was dead, as far as she knew.

Sandy screamed again, but she could only feel the breeze grow hard.


As soon as they thought the word, the EVP meter responded with static. She looked down, distracted by the sound of the meter and the reaction of the EMF. The numbers raced higher then back down dramatically.

“I cannot even touch my equipment. I am trapped.”

Sandy heard the digital voice of the EVP meter as it crackled out the word “trapped”. She realized that she was manipulating the equipment. She was a ghost now. She now knew what it was like and how horribly frustrating it was to be locked outside a human form. Her thoughts raced.


The meter crackled again and then suddenly went dead. It was harder than she thought to make the words. It was very hard. Sandy screamed again, so silent and so horrible. When she screamed, she heard the screamed crackling weakly into the EVP.  Sandy quieted. She tried a sentence, but nothing. She tried many different words and nothing. After several attempts she stopped and then she screamed obscenities, or at least something in the wind, around a consciousness, that remembered being a girl named Sandy, screamed “bloody hell”.

The EVP screeched a very loud “Bloody hell” and then went silent.

If ghosts were ever tired, then this was Sandy’s excuse. She wafted down and settled among the lamps on the table. Her entity stared through the lava lamp and over to the EVP meter.

“Someone please find me.”

As Sandy settled behind the lava lamp, she noticed two shimmering lights settle on the other side. Then a third one wavered around her as well. Sandy suddenly felt warmth and love, but she couldn’t understand why.

“I am sorry, dear. I am sorry that you are dead.” The sweet voice chimed in the air.

Sandy heard the voice as some consciousness much like her own. The emotions and the air was charmed and warmed by something.

“You are here with us now. We will teach you.”

Sandy realized that she was surrounded by the dead. Other little lights fell from the ceiling and hovered around the room. Blue lights, green lights and even little pink ones.

“So, what color am I?” she spoke, only as a ghost can speak.

The other lights shimmered and she heard millions of conscious creatures laughing.


“Look Sandy, I have tried to call you a dozen times and you won’t answer your damn phone. I need the equipment. I have this thing and I need to use the microphone and the meter. Please call me back before morning, please!”

“Sandy, come on, it’s half past midnight. I need that meter by 3 a.m. I have a major lead on a place out in Forest Hill. Just call me, okay.”

“Look, I am coming over. I have a key and I will be quiet. I will just come in and get the stuff. I guess you are sleeping, so I won’t wake you. I just got to get this footage. This may be the thing we are looking for, you know. Just, don’t worry about it, get your sleep and I will take care of it. Be there in a minute.”

Malcolm slipped through the back door and up the stairs. He didn’t even knock on Sandy’s bedroom door before entering. He expected to see Sandy thrown across the bed, but she was awake. She sat at her dressing table, massaging her face.

“Hey, why didn’t you answer the phone?”

Sandy kept kneading her cheeks and smiling like an idiot. Malcolm opened the his black case and place the meter inside. He looked over at Sandy.

“Did you hear me? Why are you still up? Are you going with me?”

Sandy said nothing.

Malcolm walked over and bent down to look in Sandy’s face. He waved one hand in front of her.

“Hey! Are you in there?”

Sandy looked at Malcolm and smiled. “Sandy is not here. I am Bezel.”

Malcolm frowned. “Really Sandy? Real funny, are you mad at me or something?”

Sandy just stared at him and smiled again. She was creeping him out and he just didn’t feel like dealing with it anymore. He walked back to the bed and continued gathering the equipment.

“Look, I am going out to Forest Hill. A bunch of people said there is a real strong ghost out there. Apparently, he was killed in some sort of attack. I am not sure really. I just want to get some readings and maybe a few voices.”

Sandy, or the thing that used to be Sandy laughed. I was a laugh that sent shivers down his spine
“This entity you seek is a murderer. He is very interesting indeed.”

Malcolm stopped packing and looked back at Sandy. “Wow! You already know about the place?”

“Why yes, I congregate there from time to time.”

Malcolm frowned, and just as he started to turn back to the meter, he heard a crackling noise.

Sandy, the ghost

Malcolm picked up the meter and gasped. “Did you hear that, Sandy? It said “Help me!”

The girl at the dressing table frowned and suddenly stood.

“I heard nothing. Those things are rubblish.”

The meter crackled again and something screamed, followed by a volley of less than lady-like words.
Malcolm sat down and wiped the sweat from his brow.

“This is some serious evidence. I never knew your house was haunted. Grab the EMF and let’s get a reading. Forget about Forest Hill, we have a situation right here.”


“You see, I am not Sandy. I don’t wish to pretend to be Sandy and I sure as hell have a much better plan for this body.”

Malcolm stared at Sandy while something in the EVP screamed his name. He had never been more confused in all his life. Suddenly, he realized that Jake and Sandy had set him up. They were playing some elaborate trick on him and he was falling for it. Yes, he was falling for it, hook line and sinker-at least until now.

“Okay, okay…you got me. You are not Sandy, you are some demon who stole her body and she is floating up there somewhere trying to talk to me, right?”

The thing called Sandy smiled and then laughed.

“Wow, good one. So, are we going to go check out Forest Hill?”

“Malcolm!!! Malcolm” The meter screeched

Malcolm shook the meter. “Okay, you guys can stop now. You are going to mess up the meter, playing stupid games with it.”

“Malcolm!!! Malcolm!!!”

“LOOK, stop it, you guys!”

Sandy, at the dressing table was no longer smiling. She walked over to Malcolm and sat next to him on the bed.

“You know the truth, Malcolm. You always wanted her, didn’t you?”

Malcolm frowned. “Sandy…I”

Malcolm did want Sandy, but he knew that Sandy was in love with someone else. Sandy didn’t want him. Malcolm thought for a second that maybe this was really something supernatural. He shook off the feeling and turned toward Sandy.

“Look, you can stop now. I know it’s a trick and I fell for it. I give up! You got me!”

Sandy took his face in her hands and planted a kiss on his lips. Malcolm blubbered against her mouth and pushed himself back. He fell onto the floor.


The EVP meter crackled and a voice spoke loud and clear. “Knock her out, Malcolm!”

Malcolm looked at the EVP and back to the Sandy, whom sat on the bed. She licked her lips and leaned toward Malcolm. He looked into her eyes and realized that it was not Sandy. It was something else.

“Who are you?”

The thing laughed leaning its head back. “I told you, I am Bezel. I think you are scrumptious!”

Malcolm swung the heavy camera up and into the side of Sandy’s head. The real Sandy squealed between the static of the EVP meter. The Sandy, the one that was sitting on the bed, fell over and sighed. She stopped moving, she was out cold.

The meter crackled again and Malcolm heard Sandy speak.

“Did you kill me? You weren’t supposed to kill me!”

Malcolm swallowed the lump in his throat and made his way to where the fake Sandy lay. The EVP was silent.

“Sandy! Hey!” Malcolm shook Sandy, while whispering in her ear. He hoped this had worked and also hoped that he hadn’t really hurt Sandy, but Sandy didn’t move.

Malcolm sat down beside her and put his face in his hands.

“Hey, don’t cry.”

Malcolm expected the crackle of the EVP to greet him after her words. He turned to look at the meter and it was void of frequency or sound. It was dead silent.

He felt the hand on his shoulder and he dreaded what he might see. He wiped his tears and stood.

“Don’t touch me!”

Sandy smiled and then put her hand to the knot that was forming on the side of her head.

“Wow! You really clocked me with that one.” Sandy groaned and stood as well. She wobbled a bit before Malcolm reached out and steadied her stance. He raised her face to see the damage that he had done with the camera. A single line of blood made its way down the side of her face, followed by a tear. She squinted and smiled.

Malcolm frowned and made to apologize.

“Hey, it’s okay….you saved me. “

Malcolm smiled back. “Yeah, well, I am still a little confused, but one things for sure, I think I am not going to do this stuff again for awhile. No ghosts for me! It seems kind of dangerous, don’t you think?”

“What I think is that we should go check out Forest Hill.”

Sandy laughed and put her hand on his face. The touch startled him. He instinctively drew back expecting the eyes of Bezel to stare back at him. There was only Sandy, the Sandy he knew….and loved.

“and...I never got to finish something I started, Malcolm.”

Malcolm smiled. “What’s that?”

“Just this…”

Sandy kissed him

…And all the spirits giggled. The EVP crackled with new life.

Friday, September 12, 2014

Not your "run of the mill" government check

I bet you thought I would change. Well, I didn’t. I am the same plain girl you knew before the money came. I just never told you how it happened, did I? Okay, I guess I should fill in that gap for you. Then you can put me back under the microscope and watch me squirm.

I was waiting on the money, the other money. You know, I was waiting to receive my crazy check from the government, yeah, that one. Times were hard, to say the least. I was visiting my therapist about twice a month, taking my meds and even enjoying a nice walk every now and then. I was just waiting, waiting and just getting by with what I could get from the food bank and good friends. I guess I had nothing to brag about at all, except that someone cared and they went out of their way to make sure we had food eat and a roof over our heads. In my spare time, the other spare time, I wrote short stories. Once, I wrote my memoir and told a few friends about it. I even snagged an interested party that wanted to make a book of my story. I still didn’t think much about it. It was a shot in the dark for me, considering I had the concentration, memory and temperament of a dementia patient.

The book finished itself with my help, but there was still no crazy check in the mail. I expected a large one, oh a few thousand or so, for all the time I was crazy and didn’t get paid for it. So, you can expect that I got a little happy when I saw the words “Pay to the order of…” peeking outside that little triangular plastic window of that blessed envelope. I was so excited that I didn’t want to open the letter.

I opened the letter and my head hit the pavement. I woke up later to the striped pants leg of a local trustee.

“Ma’am! Are you alright?

I moved the envelope into my gaze and focused on all the zeros. The check read $5,000,000. Now that was some back pay, alright. I figured the department of rehabilitation had made a grave mistake. I turned the envelope over again and noticed there was nothing printed on the front. The envelope was blank. I quickly folded the check and pushed myself up from the pavement.

“I am okay sir. I thank you.”

No matter how long or how hard I looked for the sender of that envelope, I got nothing. Of course, I had to be careful and not tell everyone about the money. When people find out you have come into money, they start being your best friend or long lost relative.

And I bet you thought it would be hard for me to keep up poverty appearances, well, you are and was and will be wrong. I still wear the same t-shirts, baggy jeans and thick glasses that I did when I had no money. In fact, to be quite honest, it is still in paper form. I have yet to cash the check and make it official. I did, however, take the check to the bank to have it analyzed. It is real, that is a purely legitimate check for 5 million and it is stuck to my refrigerator with a big mac magnet. Every day I look at that check and I smile.

“One day, one day I will cash you. One day, I shall take you down from that magnet and spend a great big hunk of you on absolutely nothing.”

After I say this, I laugh at myself.

I am the same person. I have not changed at all since I came into money. I tell you something else too, I think that check was from God and he knows, tried and tested, that I can be trusted to keep his money safe.

Yesterday, I got my first crazy check…Approved!!!

Yes, I am just the same old girl I was before. The same one, yes, the same girl. I don’t need that money, I have my checks and my checks are stable, reliable and sure. I bet you thought I would break, well, I didn’t. Here I am, still doing good and being responsible. God loves a humble and responsible child, he trusts those who aren’t wild spenders. After all, it makes no sense to get money and change into someone you are not.
I bet you are wondering when I am going to break…

Well, I don’t need to break. I can leave that check on the refrigerator forever if I need to.
I can tell them, when they finally find out and they ask me…

“So, what did you do with the 5 million dollar check?”

And I can smile and speak clearly.

“nothing…absolutely nothing.”

Thursday, July 31, 2014

A piece of the real me

I have learned many valuable things as a woman, a woman free for two years, learning new prisms of her personality. Tell me, are these new and wide range of colours an indication of my madness? I think that maybe the alternative of mind have been grouped so because of their willingness or desire to be free. Is it truly more stable-minded to be a background singer, an integral part of the larger whole or the wind beneath some giant bird's wing? Is it truly so to accept the fact that you are too opinionated and so you must desire to take the reigns or castrate the situation?

I think there is a great need to retain something, a secret strength to have no spirit of fear. I am so imperfect and yes, I go to war each and every morning to battle those less than desirable and immoral thoughts. But I betcha if you were to peel away your skin, you would find that w are vulnerable beings, beings that must always keep right sense of a situation. During the process of doing what us right, we must strike aright balance between not being the lunatic and not losing us. It is not as easy as you may think.

Look closer, there is more than just human failure that waits to devour the innocent. There is a pain of loss that spans much further than the death of a loved one... The loss is death of oneself.

Thursday, July 24, 2014

In grandmother's room

When I was a child, I thought as a child, I ran and played and jumped as a child. But then, I became a woman. In the midst of childhood, I grew into womanhood, sprouted roots into the soul as a dame. I looked up at you, your face a mask of cold and indifferent amusement. You took it from me. It was the thing that truly defined who I was. You made me who I am, and you have never paid the price for the crime you committed. I remember-I remember the way my grandmother’s patchwork quilt lay over our laps as you thrust your finger deep inside of me. And I remember the shadow in the corner that told me to kill you. But I thought it said kill you, or did it say run. The voices now are so thick that I cannot remember what the shadow said. I think the shadow was you.

I like to think that shadow had kind eyes and called me princess, because I wanted the shadow to save me. I let it follow me throughout life, keeping me company, holding my hand. It whispered into my ears that I was special. As you took me over and over again, the shadow man played in my peripheral vision. He waited there, as if he were looking through time, wishing he could save me. 

“Hello.” I stood in front of the mirror, my little auburn curls handing over my delicate shoulder.

The mirror was dusty and so was the room. My father was gone, mother was cooking something putrid in the kitchen. Maybe it was a hog’s head or a turtle’s tail. Nothing really came from the grocery store anymore. We were primitive peoples called hunters and gatherers. We were modern day farmer, yes, maybe that was it. But we paid no attention to one another, until I was a bad girl or I skint my knee. Yes, that might have been cause for slight alarm, but not for long. I was told to go play, and I did go play. Then I stood in my grandmother’s room and looked into her mirror again.

“hello” I spoke softly, but nothing spoke back.

My reflection was hollow and pale and when I spoke, I swear my lips never moved. My expression never changed, not did my little curls shake at the vibration and movement of my unmoving lips. The air grew funny and thick with a moldy sort of smell. I looked around. There was no one in the room but my grandmother’s crochet throws and her stacks of patchwork quilts. In the corner was her sewing basket, a chest of drawers and a torn and tattered bible. I wondered if Jesus could see me now.


My face was static and so was the dark feeling inside. I reached to touch my chest, just below my little yellow stitched ducky on my jumper dress. As I moved my hand to my shoulder, I looked into the mirror. The girl that was me did not move and her arms were hanging straight at her sides. She stared ahead with no expression. I smiled, but she did not. I coughed but she did not. She did nothing and I wondered if she was alive at all.

Mother came running into the room and smiled at me.

“Dinner’s ready sweetheart.”

I looked into the mirror again and smiled. This time she smiled back and I heaved a sigh of relief. Mother left the room and I sat down on the edge of grandmother’s bed.

“Mr. shadow man, can you come get me. I think I am broken.”

In the corner, the shadow man appeared.

I like to think that it had kind eyes and that it called me princess. It was easier that way, easier to believe that it would save me.

Thursday, May 29, 2014

The cure - Love song (subtitulado)✔

oh what the heck, here, take it back

"I am so proud of you".

Daphne smiled at him because she loved him, but he was not there at all. She imagined his face so close to hers, his eyes dancing with her darkness and his short hand cupping her fingers. She sometimes really lost it when she saw him hurting and she couldn't go to him. Hell, she couldn't even talk to him. It was by the rules that she had set for herself.

"I am proud of you." Daphne whispered in her room.

 She whispered to something, a dust bunny or a cobweb; but Daphne was telling the wrong objects, while the object of her affection was far away from her. She leaned against the wall feeling the coldness through the wood paneling. What was she going to do now?

"If I could talk to you again, would I tell you?" she asked herself.

Her words were as silly as her tugging and twining fingers. She couldn't keep still, she keep pulling strands of hair away from her head and rolling them around her fingers. She was so nervous, she was so frustrated that she just couldn't sit any longer.

"I have to go..I have to get out of here now!"

The door was broken. The dog had been caught chewing on the bottom left corner of the wood. She kicked him but it was too late. Something that he did made the door stick every time she tried to open it. She would have to pull really hard and jerk the knob. She was doing this now.

"Blasted door! Does everything have to be an act of congress?"

"Yes, it does". a voice spoke from behind her.

Daphne turned because she was instantly thrust into fear. She saw nothing, and this was what she expected to see. She was hearing him here and there, randomly invading her space. Even though it startled her, she welcomed his beautiful intrusion.

"I know that you are not really here, but I wish you were. I wish that you would appear and scare the bejesus out of me. It would just be worth it.

Daphne stood for a moment and then turned to walk out the door.

"Actually", she said "I don't really want you here because you hurt me so much".

Daphne waited a moment at the doorway. She scanned the apartment with her eyes. Her sadness was creeping out of her eyes and it radiated on her face. Every time she thought about how he abandoned her, she couldn't stop the ugly feelings. It was a mixture of intense and unconditional love and a hatred.  She had loved so hard that when abandoned, she hated him.

"How could you have done that to me? Now you know that Karma is a bitch, huh?"

Daphne was cruel. Her hurt was a knife that had festered with sepsis and mold. But Daphne didn't really want to wish him any ill will. Now she wanted to kiss him again. The emotions twisted and turned and catapulted down like a descending roller coaster. Then it was up again, and she was in love on a Friday. However far away, she would always love him.

Now she had her iPod in her hand. Absently, she had picked the device up and was flipping through songs. The Cure was there, with that tragic love song.

" I always guess them right."

Daphne put the ear buds in her ears and went out to tend to her garden. As she dug holes into the earth, she fantasized about trying to bury it again.

Daphne knew that it would never work, it never did. He would always be a part of her, taunting her mind with a very painful love that she never expected.

Friday, February 14, 2014


This video is amazing.  So many women are raped, beaten and humiliated. We have to find our inner strength!

Sunday, January 26, 2014

Naming the Demons and Tormented Blue

Interested in my true story? Go here: and then go to Post #1, which will be at the beginning of the blog, and you can read my story in its entirety. I will be writing this story as a book very soon.

Visit to see my artwork, photography and work dedicated to Tormented Blue, a muse.

Thank you for all your support and friendship. I love you guys!

Lil Red

Lil Red
My furry beast...
Welcome to Spiritwalker

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