A good ghost story anyone, or just plain paranoia?

We’re in the 21st century. Still there are more between heaven and earth that we can explain. I’m trying to find some sort of rationale with this.
Apparently, some dickhead is playing games with me!
Got a little ghost story for you kids!
Last night, when I got the wee love letter from some self proclaimed doctor of a lawyer; I got into writing mode! Nobody fucks with me and get away with it!
Well, somebody is eventually fucking with me and have a lot of fun about it!
I’m off the phone from my best friend and fellow wizard to take a pile of dump.
It’s a good pile I lay down. It takes me a good half hour with my cleansing.
An hour later, something is missing. My bloody keys are gone! I look everywhere! They are not in my belt, they were not flushed down the toilet. I did not leave them outside my door; I did not throw them out the window! Neither did I misplace them under some rug.
I tried not to think about it too much. I could always give my landlord a ring if I was in crisis in the morning. If I should ever wake up! I wrote a few more lines, and fell asleep on the last lines…
It was dawning when I woke up and needed a piss. It was 2 in the afternoon when woke up. I looked for my medicine so I could relax a bit again, or maybe even get up and do something sensible. Like continue my rants. Also this was gone! Then I remembered, I looked for it the same place last night.
I thought I was going insane! I can always deal with rational things. I’m just getting pissed off and a bit paranoid when both my keys and my medicine disappear on the same night!
At 3,I give my landlord a message. “Something strange is happening here! My keys are bloody lost!”
I soon fall asleep again. The landlord is knocking on the door. I’m not sure if I can be bothered. I’m still full of sleep when he actually got my message. I call! He comes! The times he have been here, it seems like he’s a bit nervous.
This time he’s got something I need! New keys! And this time, I couldn’t get get myself into talking mood anyway! At least I could get myself out of this place for a few hours at the time to continue my damage to power mongers who think they own this island-
An hour later, I run of smoke and wine. I get up. I put my pants on. The keys are there! They are hanging on the exact same spot as I left them! On my belt buckle! The first place I started getting my anxieties when I couldn’t find them!
Nobody comes into my room without me noticing it! I’m ex military! This was something different though! I look in my chest pocket on the shirt I didn’t take off, my drugs is there too!
Not any call center manager or a corporation or the Mafia, or the Scientologists could have thought of this one. Their scheming wee bastards have not this warped sense of humor!
Someone, or something gave me a bit of a scare! This is fear and Loathing in Malta after all. Either it’s my old employer saying “hello”, or I have a freeloading tenant which I cannot see, and this creature plays tricks on me.
How would you react?
Not even my most Salvia Divonorum or LSD or mushroom clouds experiences could do this to me! Something is going down here!
I even found my drugs in my own shirt that I’ve worn since Wednesday! Earlier this morning it was clean empty! How can this happen?
Can anyone with a plausible explanation?
Both my keys and my drugs suddenly reappear when I’m not thinking about them! And yet they both turn up the first places that I look! And I do not think that company goons have been to my apartment to plant “evidence” or to steal my keys and then frame me.
This is an experience of the scary sequence. My paranoia extends to what damage I have done, or might do to people who rub me the wrong way, or lose track or definition of the word “integrity”, “criminal action” or journalistic ethics. These people do not scare me.
What truly bother me, is that some shit head spirit that I do not know of can play tricks with me in this fashion!
Am I living in a haunted house?
Why are forces here to fuck me up and destroy me? I came here to find some peace, and quiet! To Have a decent job, and to finish my Belfast book! Instead, I get all this bloody hassle from people and even dead people?
What do you put your stock in?’
Remember my burden of evidence! Could this have being orchestrated by a company that might feel threatened by my writings? Or can this only be a supernatural thing from somewhere beyond the grave?
I will have a very restless weekend because of this.
The Bohemian Writer, May, 2009
“Us human beings live in a three dimensional world. Maybe if we could perceive the fourth dimension, we would be able to travel through time and space, to dimensions other and diverse, freeze time and travel to distant galaxies. “
Stephane the Elf on LSD


One response to “A good ghost story anyone, or just plain paranoia?

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