The Ouji board "game" is (finally) outside. Maybe it is bullshit, maybe it is not. I just think more clearly, now. And the computer is working as it should. Is that a coincidence? I think not. There is a whole hell--HELL--of a lot of crazy shit that one wouldn't expect to happen...that happens.
I think I fucked with the Ouji board before. I think I was pompous. I think, now, I am not pompous. I think I also know the concept of "flying beneath the radar." I am not quite sure--I have never done this before--of the half-life of demons. I also don't know that, if I open the door, will they flood back in?
[And, yes, I am drunk.]
But, sometimes? Being drunk is beneficial. Have you ever had a book fly off the shelf, by itself, and land at your feet? And when you look down, you see that it is a book based upon the chillun of alkies? I swear to God, it happened. There have been Spirits, everywhere, in this house. Everywhere. I am not a parapsychologist--I understand their trade--but I do believe that there has been an "asshole spirit" in this homestead for the last...who knows? Weeks? Months? Months.
I think the Ouji "board-game" had something to do with it. Crazy, right? Maybe? Not.
We as Humans have No. Fucking. Idea of what lies Next.
***
I know this: For some people, Alcohol is the Devil.
I am one.
This is the "funny" part: Sometimes it is not just hyperbole.
***
My computer was not working earlier. It has done this shit in the past--just like today--where it flat-out refused to "boot-up." No shit. I often feel that way. But I am not a collection of uber-small electronics. Though all humans are electric. I was getting so fucking--FUCKING!--frustrated. (My life, as of late? Not so good. Only myself to blame.) I was looking at this laptop saying, "Just. Fucking. Work." It refused to work. I tried everything. I tried the power cord; I tried starting up and setting it down and starting it up...to no avail. My frustration reached Red Zone levels. I thought to myself, If this motherfucking computer does not start working, I'm-a gonna kick it out the fucking window.
The furnace kicked on. To me, it sounded like the Howls of Hell. I felt the Devil crawling over me, my mind, my Soul. Anyone who has worked with natural gas knows the sound. Pitiless. Overwhelming. Frooooooooozin-in-in-in-in. Sixty pounds of pressure? From gas, natural gas? C'mon. I used to do it, but I say this, anyone who deals with that Danger is a motherfucking Superstar. It is a snake; it can rear back and bite.
The furnace kicked on. To me, it sounded like the Howls of Hell. And I was inordinately angered at my laptop. There was perfect--I mean, purrrrrfect syncronisity, symmetry. When I last lay down the "lid" of the laptop, the furnace was howling from the basement. When the "lid" connected with the "computer"--the laptop--everything went silent.
***
I don't know what was more special. Me cracking another beer full in the face of demon-infestation or me realizing what maybe perhaps yes is the motherfucking reasons for the paranormal activities and the bad bad BAD BAD dreams that Meeg and I have felt for a long long time.
The Ouji board. I ain't joking.
***
Goodness gracious. It is true. There are parallel planes, all about us. Sometimes, it is scary.
***
I think this: No matter what, God looks after us. Listen: I know. Who am I? I have been known to inhale too may beverages and, thus, my Word means Spit. I also know this: The last three songs, on random, have said exactly what I was saying...before they came on. Stupid. Stupid? Oh, sure. I also know how...and this is going to sound Krazee....
***
I think it is a playing field, actually. Who're we?! We're secondary. I think that there is a war being waged, right now. I am not sure of whom the combatants are. I think, though, that it is bigger than the manatees and the squirrels and the deer and the humans and the ants and the spiders. I think, actually, it is the battle of the Ages. Personally, I think we are all pawns in a great chess match between Evil and Good. It sounds stupid, it sounds cliche, but I believe this is the last Battle.
***
I am not baptized. I went, through my parents' good grace, to a superior school. In that school, they emphasized writing and reading. (Also, I'm smart.)
***
I believe this is the last Battle.
***
"When the Devil knows you're dead, eH Pounces."
***
Oh! The Devil pounces. He has already taken out about three motherfucking paragraphs of mine--well-written--and the motherfucker wants more. Maybe? Maybe it is the computer. Maybe it is super-sensitive to "touch". I'm pissed. Apparently, none of my appendages can come within three inches of my computer keyboard. I am trepidatious...I doan wanna piss off either the Devil or his compatriots. I juswannatype.
***
I just wanna type because I am a typer. Verbal diarrhea.
***
With this motherfucking laptop and also all the damned psychic activity around here? I think I am doing okay. I do not want to call on the demons. I really really do not want to do that. But, they've had their fun. ENOUGH. ENOUGH! And then, the song on the shuffle? "People Are Strange," by The Doors. By Jim Morrison.
***
Jim Morrison. Great. Great "world-changer." Here is a funny fact: Four of my favorite artists fit this shit; three of them were the same age. Tell me it is a coincidence. Dead at the age of 27: Jimi, Jim, and Janis. As for Stevie Ray? Not quite sure of his age. Guess what? They all also have four syllables in their names.
You do the Math. (Not to mention: Three of their names started with the "letterJay.")
***
Um.
Son House. "Death Letter." Old-school Mississippi Delta-blues. Check it out. His style told the Beets and the Stones and Hendrix what the Blues meant.
***
I test Fate. Every day.
***
And the trains Howl in the Distance.
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