What is the weirdest thing you've ever seen?

sad. our connections to our families are precious things. You do honor to your grandfather's memory.

I know my current house likes some people and not others. I had to learn how to work on electrical, and a boiler system myself because this place would run workers off. The poor electrician got the shit scared out of him and he refused to return. The boiler people had been here before and refused to come back. I did have a plumber that I stayed with the whole time, so that worked out. LOL

It's all a learning experience.

edit
My grandpa smoked Prince Albert and went through the depression and dust bowl also.
A hearty bunch, they were. ;)

Last Edited by SPUD on 12/24/2009 04:01 PM

In my life I've been really close to 3 men. Pawpaw, my husband and my son. I'm a very blessed person. They are easy to respect, like, and love. These are the things that are important to me.

When he died I took it the hardest.I think that's why he visits me so much. It's a true gift to be open to seeing and hearing things that others may not.


I don't have that same connection to women in my life....but that's okay. I've still loved them, and they taught me how to survive. That is a priceless gift.


Last Edited by >Anastasia< on 12/24/2009 03:52 PM

women are confusing creatures...but I like's 'em :)




by the way, women suffer more than men do. Have patience with them :)

Yes, patience is definately my cross to bare. I do try.

(One of many weird experiences)

When I was a little kid, I would often be walking through my house and feel hands on my back pushing me down. As soon as I'd hit the floor, I'd turn around all indignant, and accuse my mother of pushing me down. Inevitably, she'd be too far away (or in the next room) and would laugh at me.

Now, I'm not graceful by any means, but I would have sworn on all that is holy that my mother was pushing me down. This happened MANY, MANY times. Once in a while my mother will still laugh about this--like, "Oh, remember when you used to fall down all the time and then all pissed off like turn around and yell 'you pushed me'? Ha ha!" I'm 36 now. Everytime she does I feel kind of vaguely uncomfortable. I still think something was pushing me down.

But then, many many strange experiences I had in that house. They didn't stop until after I left for college. When I'd come home it was almost like the place felt more and more empty of energy each time I came home to visit.

Thanks for listening.

bump

You"ll keep ur thread. You own it.

at age 20 in jordan, i scaled a strange crevasse/rock formation, where you had to do "spiderman" maneuvers to cross, in order to get to a ridge overlooking a "death valley" where there was nothing as far as you could see ...

when i got through the crevasse and onto the flat rock there was a man of about 95 years, with only one eye, sitting indian-style on the rock ...

it was odd and humbling and unforgettable

?

This happened on the 22nd of October this year. It was a nice sunny day, I was outside in the backyard with my son. We were having a great time playing outdoors when I started to hear a helicopter. My son even said "helicopter" because he had heard it too. Flying not so far above in the distance, in a straight flight path over my home was what I believe to be a unique type of drone. It was a light color, white or grey circular (orb) drone. I definitely heard the faint helicopter sound from it but it was far enough where I could not make out the rotors. Now the bizarre thing about this orb was that it had an orange radar? that encircled it. The radar was flat in appearance & moved gyrosopically in the center of the orb. I was for some reason filled with dread when I saw this thing, as I felt it was there for me. I quickly ran inside to grab my crappy 5.0 powershot, came outside again and turned the camera on. The drone was in the distance by now and was actually ascending. I saw that the camera was on (green light, lcd screen) & aimed for the little bastard. My zoom lens was out still, but the camera was off. I have no explanation for why the freaking camera malfunctioned on this critical moment. I had experiences within the next couple of weeks outdoors, but no more drones. I spent loads of time trying to find out anything I could about what I saw, but have only met people that have seen silver orbs.

how, did I make that post at 12:17 and it's not up?

That's called a wet dream buddy.

a 16 yr old with a 70 yr old.

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One summer afternoon at my buddies lakehouse we were sitting on his dock. It was a clear day and not a cloud in the sky. I look up at the sky, and it is covered by what I would describe as an "electric fishnet" for as far as you could see. The strangest thing I've ever seen. Picture an enormous fishnet made of glowing electrical fibers that strethes completely across the sky.

I should mention we were all on a hallucinogen, but none of my friends saw what I saw.

I remembered the house from 21 years ago.

When I first dated my wife, she was living in the home. A standard 1971 FHA 3 bedroom, two bath, dine-in kitchen suburban home complete with vinyl flooring and rich, shag carpeting.

I would drive up on weekends from college to see her for the weekend. I would spend the night on the couch. There was something unpleasant about it even then, but it was a home and a family lived in it.

Fast forward to ten years ago.

Accusation. Molestation. Condemnation. Confrontation.
a divorce, a split, a fracture.

He lived alone for the next four years after. But...for 10 years, the responsibility for this home was his solely.

His first wife had moved on, taking her freedom from him like a dog starved, released from the chain. Her freedom careened her around and exhausted by exploration, she lit and rested.

Living alone for 10 years, his nature forced itself into the nooks and crannies of this home. Needed repairs were ignored, small problems grew. He was incapable of cleaning, because that was woman's work. So his trash piled high, his mail went unsorted and unresolved, and his business began to consist of a few poorly serviced customers.

I will not describe how I came to buy the house.

He died two months after the house was mine. During those last two months, I did not go to the house. Not while he was alive. I still considered it his house. I still hadn't been through it in 10 years.

He remarried, to our suprise, and during the last 6 years of his life, he had used the house as a daytime retreat only...bringing in way more than he took out. The piles grew higher and higher, the rooms slowly filling with debris, detritus, paper, and fast food bags.

He was spending his nights with his new bride at her place.

He battled alcoholism, and lost. Finally, a properly high dose of potent medications was given him by the government and he lived at last as a junkie, not a drunk.


In April of this past year, I found myself given a choice of a pay reduction or a lay-off. I moved into the house two days later and began work. I went alone.

Last Edited by Bullfrog on 12/25/2009 01:51 PM

I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I've watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in the rain...

I think its a good thing to have an imagination.

When I say I went alone, I was alone. Have you ever been in one of those weird, in-between phases in your life where you weren't sure exactly what you believed in? As I was going thru the process of rebuilding this home, I came to sense the spirit of this man whose house I came to own.

It has been an eye-opening experience.

Bear in mind, that the spirit of this man didn't manifest itself in a physical way. I never saw his ghost with my eyes.

But his ghost was everywhere.

Last Edited by Bullfrog on 12/25/2009 06:56 PM

I also saw a black panther, early 1960's, upstate New York (way out of range.)
But the strangest thing I ever saw -
The husband of a close friend died of lung cancer, 6 months after diagnosis. He had shriveled, was like an infant by the time he died.
At the funeral, full church, I saw his face, it filled up the whole church!! He was smiling, healthy looking, 25-20 feet high. I almost laughed, looked around to see if anyone else could see him, apparently not.
I told my friend immediately after the service - I took it as a message for her.

With your selflessness, and a Key persons forgiveness, could just drag someone out of hell itself.

You have open spiritual ears, may God be with you!

He was a spiritual man in his mind, devoted to the apostle and to the message of man's degenerate nature. And prophecy. I remember attending a drunken bible study once; full of slurred scripture and raving rants. He held in high disregard the liberalization of the apostle's message by a new church policy. There was too much forgiveness and salvation in the new message for his tastes. He liked his religion like he liked his whiskey...poured from the gates of hell. He seemed to crave bitter justice for the wicked; without realizing the irony.

He was a sign painter, and had at one point been moderately successful. A small shop in the backyard was his base of operations before the divorce. I found little interruption from his ghost, but plenty of opportunity for disdain of this man as I went about the overwhelming project of cleaning out the nearly 40 years of industrial and consumer debris from the nearly 3/4 acre lot. I could fill pages with exacting descriptions of the condition and volume of materials I excavated by hand from the back of the home. I could fill pages describing the wrist-thick vines of poison ivy I carefully cut and removed from the intensely overgrown privet hedges jungled haphazardly throughout.

For the first month, I worked primarily outside, only using the house for its functioning bathroom and as a housing for my cot.

It was after I started work on the interior that I truly began to feel the weight of this man's legacy.

I am listening.....I know there is more.
BTW....great thread!

I'm paying attention too. I'm down here visiting from up north, visting folks on the eastern side of the state. We've chatted before and I know you are west of the Rock, out west of toad suck :)

Enjoying your story and wishing you well in the new year.

Bondhue

a choosy house.

I have one.

Last Edited by Only Me on 12/27/2009 01:24 AM

There is more to fatherhood than sperm-donation. There is more to fatherhood than feeding and sheltering your children. There is even more to fatherhood than teaching and correcting. Without love, a father becomes a totem. A figurehead; an intention without a tool. A process without a purpose.

Unlike the holy hand grenade of Antioch, three was not the number of his count. It was five. And although he felt promised a quiver full of arrows, he reaped weeds of the field in the first, second, and especially the last case. The word says the sins of the fathers visit even until the seventh generation. I am sure he was fulfilling scripture even as he poisoned his fruit. Scatterlings bitter'd and unfit for cohabitation with another or even meager parenthood; the sins of the father were certainly passed by example.

We all pay the price for each others trangressions, and atonement is a hard price when all you have is your self.

Young men do not think such thoughts of atonement and transgression. Young men are content with flash and strength, with bodies and dreams. I am a former young man, so as I look back now, I can more clearly see the role I played. I have repented, for I am indeed no different than the man in whose house I was now condemned to serve.

To be awakened after years of angry slumber, one finds the eyes are shocked to see what is written on the wall. That which we abhor, that which we disdain, that which we judge and condemn becomes our own hate-sink. The hate-sink fills and emanates like a black-body the radiation of our own judgement. I was consumed at some point during the restoration by a blind hatred of this man.

Every new corruption that I was forced to fix with my own hands brought me to a new level of seething incredulity. Rooted in the knowledge I had of what he'd done, what he had made of his legacy, and the God-Awful corruption of his home and space, I felt justified. My own mother, visiting me in the depths of my despair told me to hate him, that I could gain mastery through my hatred. For what he'd done, he was worthy of my hatred. I could easily see that the abuse he'd dished out upon his innocents led to more misery and more darkness than anyone could ever fix.

So I judged him. Not with the judgment of a son making excuses for a drunken father, but with the white-hot anger of intolerance and lack of understanding of grace.

It was a sin to do so.

I am not a man of particular strength or resolve, but I felt in my bones the call of the challenge of this house. I suspected it was a spiritual test, moreso than a challenge of my skill as a builder. I knew going in that digging through this man's empire would expose me once again to the god of my childhood, to the history of her suffering, and to the darkest secrets of sin hidden wrapped in gilded faith.

What I didn't expect is that under the piles of debris, and condemnation, and the father's sin, I would also come to find grace itself.


I have learned to see this man backward, through the extension of his daughter I love. His ghost is with us, too. I suspect it always will be. It is a work in progress, and the end is not yet written.

So I guess, really, finding Grace in my experience is the weirdest thing I have seen...

The story is long and crooked, filled with doubt and a vagabond philosophy.

when i was a kid in africa, i was learning how to drive, mostly on 2 lane back roads
one day, my brother and i were driving our jeep and we ran over something that looked like a green gray 4" pipe, stretched off of the road into the bush on both sides. the road was 20 feet wide or so.
squished it where the tires ran over it.
we stopped ahead about 10 yards and looked back.
it was a green mamba. not my first, but the biggest i ever saw.
we decided to get our guns, and went on and then came back.
it was gone.
i saw a lot of strange/weird shit in africa, but this was one of the weirdest.