Saturday, October 31, 2015

Scary Stuff: Part 1

Since today is Halloween and I’ve had a bit of time to type this down, let me tell you a few personal stories I’ve had with the paranormal. I don’t have a third eye, but I have three friends who do. One of them managed to partly open her third eye because of her best friend who has hers opened…which is why I’m scared to get too clingy with someone who has these abilities because she said they can influence you without you knowing it. The other two they said, sort of was inherited from their family, slowly opening their third eye as they got older whether they liked it or not. I have met other people who claim that they also have their third eye open, but I’m not sure if it’s true…. Some things I learned from hanging out with them are:

-The more you talk and are interested in the paranormal, the more you become a target.
-Those with third eyes are more vulnerable to things when they are tired or in an emotional state.
-When you suddenly smell a stench that resembles garbage out of nowhere, the tendency is that the spirit close to you is that of a rotting corpse, and if you could see them they would be in a state of decomposition.
-When your friend with a third eye suddenly falls silent and uneasy, chances are they are seeing something. (I hate it when they do that!)
-The closer you are to them, the more chances you’ll get of experiencing paranormal activities.
-At some point they will be get used to it, but they will always be afraid when they see one.
-Based on my friends who have their third eye opened, they are more sensitive towards people as they have heightened senses and they can tell your emotions without you telling them.
-Said one of my acquaintances (who I doubt has a real third eye) the church is one of the places that a whole lot of spirits reside in, much more than other places.
-They say some spirits have no faces. If they would describe it to me like looking at the face of a person on TV with bad reception, wherein the faces are blurry and has a warped to zigzag distortions, like static effect or something so you don’t see the details on their faces…
-Every person is vulnerable of having his/her third eye opened.

I’ll cite three top experiences I’ve had of a scary encounter…other than crossing the elliptical road towards Quezon Memorial Circle or that time I almost got bitten by my brother’s then pet snake. I have more stories though…but maybe that’s for another post. Probably one of the memorable ones that I’ll tell in another post is what I experienced staying in an all-girls dorm in Manila for one semester—and was told a few hours before I was about to leave and transfer to my uncle’s townhouse that I had been sleeping in a room where a suicide had occurred. Wahhhhh!!! And it explained a lot of things—but that’s for another time. 

Sleep Paralysis at a Hotel in Iloilo

This happened on the eve of April 28, 2012 (I know the exact date only because I still have the pictures I took that day.) We were on a family trip to Iloilo; basically the whole clan was there to celebrate my aunt’s golden anniversary of being an Assumption nun. If I’m not mistaken, we booked in Amigo Hotel, the room I cannot recall the number though. Since we booked several rooms, one of my aunts asked me to stay with her in her room. The room was a double bed deluxe; she slept on the bed close to the window while I slept on the one close to the bathroom, right in front of a huge full-length mirror. On our first night, everything seemed fine until I woke up in the middle of the night and could not move my body—any part of it! It’s like something was pressing me against the bed, heavy weight and unmoving. I couldn’t even move my fingers and it freaked me out. All I could do was swivel my eyes making sense of the dark room, at some point my eyes landed on the mirror right at my foot—it was positioned right in front of my bed so I was supposed to see my reflection, but it was PITCH BLACK!! The light on the bathroom was left on and I could see that thin line of light reflect on the wall because the bathroom door was slightly open…and I was trying to just stare at the mirror waiting for my eyes to adjust to the light—BUT NO, I found myself staring at a black hole for what seemed like a really long time. It took some minutes before my brain cells started to digest the reality that I was awake enough to be living the nightmare—and the worst part of it I wanted to pee! So yeah, I kept it in and closed my eyes forcing myself to sleep off the situation. The next day I convinced my mom to stay with my aunt for the second night without her telling my experience because I’m a good daughter like that, and went to stay with another aunt that night without much thrill in the room we stayed in. I asked my mom if she was fine with the room, she said it was okay…so I kept mum and spoke the experience with my friends instead, one of whom said his mom experienced the same thing.

He said that it was the same situation, but it was in their house when it occurred some years ago. His mom woke up in the middle of the night, her bed was also facing a full-length mirror. . .but hers was a much scarier thing because while I saw no reflection in the mirror, what she saw the image of a ghastly lady that resembling Sadako staring at her from inside the mirror. He said his mom also could not move any muscle and felt helpless at the situation. The mirror he was referring is no longer there and is already covered in mantle in their storage. I later found out about the term sleep paralysis, and that it should be nothing to be scared about…darn right. It’s that state wherein we are awake but the signals cannot be transmitted to the muscles so we are unable to move, and to which my friend’s mom’s case she was just hallucinating. Yeah, I have been told and have read that mirrors are portals and that positioning it right across your bed makes you vulnerable to other dimensions, my bed in Bacolod has my late lola’s huge round mirror right across it but I never experienced such things in my room…I experienced something else…

Whispers in My Ear

This creepy unexplainable experience happed in my room in Bacolod. So…I think there were only two or three of us in the house that day, we’re usually nine if it’s a complete count. Anyway, I’m not sure how long ago this happened, but that memory still gives me the chills every time I ponder on the memory. Brrrrr! It was afternoon, right after lunch because I was having a much unnecessary siesta that day, when all of a sudden I woke up to a whisper right at my ear. I can’t recall if I was in the middle of a dream or something, but I just remember suddenly opening my eyes because I can feel a breath of air wafting at my ears trying to say some ancient language. Until now, I don’t know what language it was…like a babble of a Gregorian chant, but not specifically sounding exact. It’s like being in a classroom where everyone is mumbling all at random and you can’t make out of one specific word, now imagine that chaotic noise being whispered right at your ear by a collective of male voices and you feel that tingle in your ear when someone whispers right next to your ears that you feel the hairs vibrate. I just remember opening my eyes, scan the room if anyone was there, jumping out of bed wondering if it was a bad joke or something—BUT NO! The maids were also in their rooms asleep far from mine, my parents were not in the house, my lola in another room also sleeping. . .so yeah, that gave me really bad goosebumps when I realized it was not a normal thing to happen to a person. My other lola died in my room back in 1997 and I moved there after she died, and I smell the scent of roses at random times, but at least it’s a comforting feeling…the voices weren’t. The fear was real. It made me uneasy—and on top of that, it ruined my completely beautiful afternoon nap!

When the Chair Moved on Its Own

This happened more recently, like several weeks ago, also in our house in Bacolod. I know, there’s something in our house in Bacolod, but I have to live with it since I live there at certain times of the year. This time, it was in my parents’ room. Since they went out of town for the weekend and I was sick with flu, I decided to vacate my room because my other lola sleeps there now (I’ve accepted the fact that there will come a time when I’ll be staying in a room where both my grandmother died,) and I wanted to be a loner that night. Anyway, four of us were left in the house that night, and roughly a few hours before my bedtime (usually around 12mn-2am) I was on my mom’s bed playing with her iPod, suddenly I heard something fell from her desk, like the sound of a small Tupperware falling. I stared towards its direction and saw the office chair swiveling. It didn’t make a 360 turn, but I saw its seat still moving, ever so slightly turning like someone just tapped it on to one direction. I pretended to be brave and searched for the item that fell, ever hoping that it was big enough to cause the chair to move—BUT NO! I checked everywhere, from her desk to the floor as to what went missing, but everything was in place. Grrrr…I stood up and left the room swiftly deciding that I should sleep with my grandmother. To my luck, the door was locked…so I had to slap myself and make sure that the moment I return to their room my eyelids were at a point of a breakdown. I slept with the lights on that night…but nothing else creepy happened right after. Right now…if I reflect on the incident, it still gives me the creeps.

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Blog is Three: Here's Ten Whatevers

 When you have a blog and see that you’ve made six blog entries at this point of the year—add to that the shocking fact that your blog just turned three years old today—suddenly your life goes into turmoil, thinking what to write? What to write? What to freakin’ write!? After some thought, I’ve come into the realization that the easiest topic where words need not much thought nor research is when I talk about myself. As a treat for myself, here are ten random whatevers about me…simply because I’m not in the right mindset to think about more important matters as of present:

1.  The best years of my life happened when I was 16 and 21 years old. Those were graduating years, because I really enjoy the idea of new life chapters, plus school works were far lesser than usual—and the bonding with friends are more intense because we know we’re about to part ways for longer than just a weekend. These were years when I felt my stomach churn out of excitement for what’s coming (yep, I’m more of a future-inclined person.) There were a lot of life-changing decisions I made those years, decisions that I would look back from time to time and still smile about at this point. The worst years happened not so long ago . . . BUT I can feel the bestest ones are about to happen not so long from now (I told you I’m a future-anticipating person.)

     2.  I was named after Saint Marie Eugenie, the founder of the Religious of the Assumption, because almost all of my aunts were Assumptionistas, yet I never really went to Assumption school for three reasons: I was afraid of being a target in the school because of my name; I was too clingy with my parents back then and didn’t want to live across the Guimaras Strait; and finally…I liked being in a co-ed school, an all-girls school never really appealed to me. Harot!

     3.  I was never a fan of boy bands or girl groups (except Celtic Women) because I prefer the sound of a solo vocalist or duet. So yes, Backstreet Boys, N’ SYNC, Spice Girls, and all other 90’s bands were not in my childhood. While my contemporaries were busy drooling over Nick Carter, I preferred going gaga over Michael Jackson, Kenny G and Richard Clayderman (Yes, I’ve been into long haired men since the day I saw Prince Adam of Beauty and the Beast.)

     4.  My ability to not retain much in my memory bank has caused me a lot of awkward moments. I’m terrible at remembering faces, and even more so at recalling names of people. Some of my more embarrassing encounters were: mistaking the parish priest to be the husband of my cousin, mistaking my friend’s mom as my teacher in grade school (I even said the whole “Wait, come back, you look familiar. I know you!” line when she was about to leave because she thought she’s mistaken, lines that my friends still annoy me with!) Another was when the wife of my uncle spoke with me at home and I had no idea it was her I was facing even after the conversation ended (I only realized it was her when I described her face to my mom a few hours after. Urgh!) I can still remember when my cousins would try to introduce themselves every time I went to their house as a child. This is where I truly appreciate the labels of lola, lola, tita, tito, ate, kuya, manong, manang etc. because it has saved me countless times from having to say a random name at someone.

     5.  A couple of my better ideas (especially my plates when I was in college) were conceived while I was in the bathroom. I don’t know if it’s the damp air in a tiny silent space that lets my brain cells collide, but I just remember going out for a toilet break every time I’m stuck on a concept for an artwork or copy.

     6.  Part of my fond childhood memories were spent in the cemetery in one of the cities I lived in. For some introverted reason, I like spending some lazy afternoons in the cemetery, playing with the goats that grazed there or just hung out at the tomb of my relatives. No. . .I don’t see nor talk to dead people. . .I just happen to avoid those alive in the cemetery. I like the contemplative silence in the cemetery, and I’m just weird like that.

     7.  I get restless whenever I had to cut my fingernails short before, until now. Starting Grade 6, I just decided that long fingernails is my thing and that it shouldn’t go less than 1mm—a decision that often got me in trouble at school. Since part of our grade in Deportment is good hygiene…well let’s just say my grades have gotten a couple of points lower because of my constant refusal to cut my nails down to the edge of my skin. I remember being called out of class a couple of times to go to the Disciplinary Officer’s office so that I could cut my nails there…he even provided me with a nail cutter just so I could keep my fingers less lethal. Thank goodness those days are over! From a 90+ in Deportment, I’ve gotten down to 83-85 because of my freakin’ nails!

     8.  I never go out of the house without at least three sprits of perfume or mist on my neck and clothes. I can go out with just combing my hair with my fingers and tie it into a bun, but I cannot smell like bad sweat. If for some they feel naked without their wristwatch, I feel incomplete without my scent. Actually I don’t have a signature scent because I like switching my perfume after I consume the whole bottle, but one of my more constant go-to for a casual day out is Victoria’s Secrets’ Enchanted Apple (because it has a nostalgic effect on me) other staples that are cheaper options are Bench’s Handsome Girl (because they phased out Naughty and Nice—GRR!) but if I do have some extra cash, I like David & Victoria Beckham Signature for Her. I remember a scene in high school when a friend who was blindfolded for an activity said, “I know it’s you. Your scent is familiar.” Without me having to say anything, I just stood beside him and immediately he muttered those words. I was quite flattered when he said that, one of the reasons why I love spritzing.

     9.  Horses are my spirit animal and dream pet. I have a great fascination for them as young as I could remember. My constant birthday wish to my parents since I was a wee lass was either a pony or a horse—of course that never came true, but if fate allows, I still consider owning my own horse someday . . . some day. I’d even point and scream “HORSE!” every time I spotted one on the side of the road during our trips to the province. The sight of them makes me happy. One of the most elated feelings I had was around second year college, when the one pulling the horse during a horseback riding trip let go of the rope and allowed me to steer the horse on my own. I can still distinctly recall the fear and exhilaration I had when I felt the horse galloped and I was left to cling onto the reins as my body hopped against the saddle. I felt so free and alive and proud that very moment. It was amaaaaaaaaaazing!

     10.  I enjoy mythology, the paranormal and the occult, but I’m not fond of horror movies; I prefer reading or watching documentaries on the topic. The series Ancient Aliens amuses me especially Giorgio Tsoukalos. Other shows I watch are Destination Truth, Ghost Hunters and Ghost Adventures. One of the first books I read outside of my school textbooks were short stories of Homer’s Odyssey Greek and Roman Mythology.