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1984
1984 Of the American Horror Story variety. In general, I am a fan of the series. I think the creators are talents of the highest order. I have wondered if they have insider knowledge of the afterlife, or the supernatural, in general. The actors/actresses are also very talented, and capable of channeling a most vivid vision of the macabre. Murder House? One almost has the feeling of at least a plausibility of the strange. Coven? Fiona, women in black, visions of the infernal. Cult? A blue haired Michigan man, the battle of the sexes, the Zodiac Killer? Apocalypse? Natas Satan Natas Natas Satan, the witches and warlocks, time travel? 1984? Technicolor opening credits, summer camp, The Night Stalker. I always waited in anticipation for a new episode. I was listening to The Living , by Mike and Mechanics, a song that plays at the end of AHS 1984 season, as the father watches his going free into the world, saved. I found the selection, perhaps, uncanny, as my father liked this song. I remember him telling me about it. Him describing the part (I wasn't there that morning/when my father passed away/I didn't get to tell him/all the things I had to say/I think I caught his spirit later that same year/I'm sure I heard his echo in my baby's new born tears/I just wish I could have told him in the living . Beautiful lyrics. My dad liked that part, especially, because his father passed and he was out of state. I was a few months . There was a strange connection between my grandfather and myself. I am told that the first time I was seen I had my grandfather's face, which slowly morphed into that of a baby. I understand this is an omen, regarding the qualities of the baby. I wasn't there either. The morning my father passed away. Strange, how aspects of history rhyme. Like a holographic fractal. I never cried or told anyone about it. Just. Silent. Knowing-daring-willing-silence. In tha past, I have said that the loss of love is like the death of God. I still think this true, or it is at least the illusion of the death of God. Honestly, I sometimes explore the labyrinth of first love. (most of the time my feelings are dead, I think). I have even pondered the neural/bio chemical structure of love and memory. Do you find it curious that a neuron, in and of itself, is merely a mechanical structure, and, a bio chemical, merely a molecular structure, and yet they formulate a unique human experience. Is there more to that narrative? Nevertheless, these things are me explore the outer limits, like the creators of AHS. *. *. * |
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I also like AHS... Have watched all the seasons more than once. When my Grandma died, she visited me in my bedroom, I'm 100% certain of it. She was standing next to my bed, looking down at me, and I could hear her voice in my mind telling me she loved me and to take care of my grandpa. My grandpa called me about an hour later and told me she'd passed. I already knew before he even called.
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I have all AHS seasons on independent hard drive. I would like to buy a projector and watch in this barn loft that is built with enormous wood beams that look like it was built by giants. Right now there is bat houses in there, for whom I am going to build a house. I am sorry about your grandma. She sounds like a strong and special woman. In my dad's final moments, he saw family members who had passed, sitting in the living room. Like they were there to accompany him to the other side. I admire your certitude, regarding your experience, which many people cannot understand. I have had a few experiences of high strangeness. I have the feeling that there will come a time when all will be known. To me... Perception of the world is real. Belief is being. Everything is reality. Everything is true, in every parallel universe. Like when my grandma said there were little people in black robes dancing around a tree in her front yard. I was the only one who believed her. *. *. *
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