Wednesday, August 12, 2015


Three words. Write.
Enigmatic, adjective: difficult to interpret or understand; mysterious.
Gruesome, adjective: causing repulsion or horror; grisly, (informal) extremely unpleasant.
Irritate, verb: make (someone) annoyed, impatient, or angry, cause inflammation or other discomfort in (a part of the body).


Last night I had a dream and it was irritating.  It was one of those dreams that you have and you keep coming back to the same dream when you wake a little and go back to sleep.  Usually, when you want to go back to a dream you can’t, no matter how hard you try.  It was a boring dream about work, of all things. 

Years ago I spent a lot of time in solitude. I got very comfortable being by myself.  I surrendered to it. I meditated a lot. I know the value of silence. I am spiritual in that, I believe in God the Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit.  I also believe in all that comes with that belief; good and evil, angels, and miracles.  I believe our souls are more than our bodies. I believe in metaphysics.

I have been in the presence of some very interesting people who were more skilled in enigmatic areas that I am interested in.  I have always had an open mind to other people’s experiences.  I do believe every person has their own experience. It is rare to hear of anyone having the same experiences, except if they were having them in an out of body experience.  I personally, have experienced being “somewhere” with others and we talked about the experience together.  I once had a friend that challenged my beliefs and we conducted several experiments.  For example, we lived over 400 miles apart, and we communicated through chat on-line, I would think of him and focus momentarily (because for me, it was all it took) and this would be our conversation:

Him: Good morning.

I would focus and before I knew it I would type back,

Me: That blue polo looks good on you!

Him: How do you know what I’m wearing?  What shade of blue is it?

Me:  Baby blue. 

Him: This is weird.

And he would send me a screen shot of himself wearing a baby blue polo shirt.   

To some, what I just described would appear to be ESP (extrasensory perception), but I did it with other people without them knowing it, and I kept it to myself, just to know if I was actually doing it or not. I don't care to define it.  My friend and I did the experiments for years.  We came to find out that if you are open to these things, you also become open to someone else being able to know about you too.  One experiment we did was for each other to go “outer body” to the other person’s bedroom and the next day describe the bed and one thing that stood out in the room.
Me:  You sleep in a four poster wooden bed, with a plaid bedspread.  The bed was not made, only one side is slept on, you have a thin pillow, you were not in the bed.  One thing I noticed was your diploma’s above your highboy dresser. All the dipolma’s have your full name written out, none have an initial and I didn’t know your first name is Buford. Why are they in your bedroom?   
Without hesitation he replied-
Him: Holy crap!!  I hate my first name.  I never tell anyone.  They hang in my bedroom so I don’t appear ostentatious. 
Me: What did you see?
Him:  You can clearly afford a bed but your king size bed is only on a frame.  You sleep in the middle of the bed and you sleep with one of your pillows by your side.  I did see you asleep. You have a dresser with three stuffed sheep on top. 
Me: Yes, that’s because I’m a visual person and I count the sheep in multiples of three until I fall asleep. 
Him: LOL that’s funny, I don’t care who you are!  Most people count sheep one at a time!  Nerd!!
Me: I beg to differ, but Buford, is a bit nerdier.
We tried different experiments, like trying to be in the same place, but it did not work out. As the years went by, we found out how to close out, or shut out the other person from our lives, there was a definite reason for it.  We decided there were things that the other person did not need to know and we mutually agreed that we would do it.  As, I said before when you open up to one, you also become open to others, and for me, I felt under attack by some “presence.” I would have violent, gruesome dreams, where I would wake up screaming and knowing I just saw something horrible and ran from it.  We learned techniques that could protect us if we “traveled” and those experiments became more prevalent.    He and I too, grew apart.  It has been about four years since we have talked, and I have not actively wanted to “travel” to see him. 
I tell you this story because I had this overwhelming feeling last night about 9:30  PM that brought tears to my eyes, the feeling was,  he needs you, he is in a place he can’t come to you, go to him. I was sitting alone in my living room with the television on the schedule, looking for something to watch, and I  was crying without knowing why.  I went to bed shortly after and I “traveled.” I wasn’t sure who I needed to see, but I knew it was someone I love deeply. From my experience it could be anyone, living or passed from this life.  I thought of my late brother.     
I did not have a good night. I awoke often and was in a dream about work.  I continued in the dream all through the night and it was unsettling.  As a practice, I try to remember everything I can so I can piece it back together in the morning, while awake.  The more I tried to remember, I realized it wasn’t my work, it was Buford’s.  He is a computer programmer and works evenings running systems for large corporations.   I shadowed him during his work last night and I kept trying to leave but something kept me there.  I wish I had realized this before, but I will go back tonight better prepared. 

 I believe we are all spiritual beings. I believe a lot of things, but also for myself, I believe I am part of a much larger connection, that is not internet driven or operates on software, or is physically connected to anything.  I believe as a spiritual being, we can be a presence in someone’s life, during this life.  It is how we instantly know one another and how we gravitate to others and how others perceive us and why animals like or dislike us.  So, I will be in Buford’s life when he needs me, even if he doesn’t know it. When I see him again physically, I will already know so much without him saying anything, because during this difficult time of his life, like in times past, he won’t be alone.  

I have some sheep to count...
- DP

Wednesday, August 5, 2015


Addicted, adjective: physically and mentally dependent on a particular substance, and unable to stop taking it without incurring adverse effects, enthusiastically devoted to a particular thing or activity.Defiant, adjective: showing defiance.Filth, noun: disgusting dirt, obscene and offensive language or printed material, corrupt behavior; decadence, used as a term of abuse for a person or people one greatly despises.


The room was not the same as it was a month ago.  The apartment manager had all the windows and doors open.  The walls and the surfaces on the furniture and countertops had a black film over them.  The apartment had a full blown growth of mold spores.  The bathroom had a leak in the wall and that is where it started.  The drywall broke free and fell to the ground .  The moisture and the mold was airborn.  The heat was turned up to 90 degrees, and it was optimal for how fast the mold took over the apartment.  

The cleaners were scheduled.  The mold gave the apartment the look of filth, but the occupant was the furthest from someone who did not care about his environment.  If you saw beyond the black that covered everything, you would notice that everything was in its place.  The pillows correctly fluffed on the couch.  The mail in a single stack.  No dirty dishes in the sink.  Towels neatly folded in the cabinet.  Dirty clothes in a basket, not thrown on the floor.  Nothing out of order.  Even the cell phone was still charging.  Everything was correctly placed, now covered in black mold. 

The body had been removed by the coroner.  The place it had occupied was not black.  The crime scene photos were also removed by the investigators.  The report  read that he had returned to addiction and it was an overdose.  His neighbors just thought he was out when they knocked and no one answered the door for a month.  They thought perhaps they just missed him and would see him later.   

It was hard to watch the family.  They disputed the report.  The sister was the one most defiant to the words on the paper.  She did not shed a tear.  She was so angry.  “This did not happen. This is wrong.  He was sober, he was clean. This was murder. Find the killers.” The ex-wife too, was clearly shaken.  Her words were delirious, “We were making plans, we were getting back together.”  The father looked around and told everyone to get out.  He did not think anyone should look upon this horrific place and the more horrific spot that did not have any mold on it.  I know it was better they saw it together instead of individually.  If they had come one by one, the sister would have punched everyone and the ex-wife would have been tranquilized, and the father would have bulldozed the place.     

I just held the keys that unlocked the door so the family could gather his belongings.  I was silent. 
I knew him too. 

How to get away with...

How to get away with anything if it has to do with love

One of my favorite things to say is, “JUST LOVE ME!!” 

I use it in my defense of all things that make my boyfriend crazy.  He has a habit of ignoring me, and in response to that, I repeat things until he loses it and when the steam is boiling out of his eyes and he is clearly agitated, I throw out, “Just love me!!”  I say those words every time is gets angry with me, like when I give him directions, or tell him which parking place to park in, or how to do something he clearly knows how to do. 

He has his own saying, “Who is screwing this football?”  I have no idea what that means.  It is complete gibberish to me. Must be some kind of man speak; no one has translated for me.

As a couple we have developed this way of communication, that to other people that overhear our banter, we come across as jerks, but in reality, it is a sentimental way of telling the other person to cool it. We both understand it and to all the things that frustrate us, our words cause us to pause and laugh at ourselves. 

Me- “Take out the trash.  Take out the trash. Take out the trash.”
Him- “I’m taking out the trash.”
Me- “Did you get the drink cartons and the trash from the bathroom?” 
Him- “Who is screwing this football?”

Him-“The speed limit is 50.  You are going 70.”
Me-“Are you talking about this gauge (RPM) that shows 20 or that gauge (Speedometer)?” 
I know which gauge. 
Him-“WHAT??  That gauge!!!  How long have you been driving???”  He is wildly waving his hand over the gauges and screaming at the same time. 
Me- “ I’m driving and paying attention to the road, you can’t expect me to pay attention to those gauges too.”  
Him- “I will drive, pull over.”
Me- “Just love me!!!”
 I continue driving until we get to our destination.   

See how it works? Spread a little love today and do as I do, demand it!! 

JUST  L.O. V. E.  ME!!!  

Happy Wed Nes Day! 
- DP