#also sorry im too tired to double check my english so there are probably some errors in there

[sagittariusboyfriend]

What have been some creepy encounters you've experienced? Story please?

ive waited quite some time to respond to this message, like literally a long ass time lol, probably more than a year, sorry. i feel like i have several encounters to tell you about, but what im going to relay to whomever might be reading this right now is a thing that went on over the course of an entire year.

quick backstory: during the better part of 2017 i lived with my then boyfriend (who now is just my best friend since we broke up in october this year) in the old parts of the city center. all buildings in that area are from around 1870, and the building where we lived is one of the first ones to have been erected. his aparment was on ground level and it has all the features of turn of the century housing with the fireplace, original floors, weird nooks and crannies etc, and looks as if it was meant to be lived in by service people/kitchen personnel. it also had its original door (i suppose) with the kind of springy locking mechanism where you have to turn the key and pull down the handle real hard simultaneously to open from the outside, the knob is very tough to turn from the inside, and it locks itself instantly once you close it (so if you forget your keys youre basically screwed). it makes a loud brassy springy clicking noise when the lock shuts or opens. takes a lot of effort to open this old door and its loud, is what im saying. the entire apartment is all original details, the flooring in the corridor has its original wood planks, original ventilation, weird but beautiful glass panels on the door etc.

the key and the door unlocking from inside

first off, when he moved in, the landlord was missing a key in the set of four. my then boyfriend, lets call him C, didnt really think about it. he moved in, gave his dad one of the extra keys. the first weird thing that happened was when C got back from work in the afternoon maybe two weeks after moving in. in the middle of the corridor, on the floor, he sees the missing key. like smack dab in the middle of the narrow corridor leading from hallway to the bathroom, next to his boots. its too far in to have been thrown in by someone through the letter slot in the door, and could not have been dropped there by neither him nor his father since they had all of their keys. so he’s like, weird, but doesnt really think about it. he also told me that around that time he heard coughing from the corridor when inside his bedroom (it opens up to the right from the corridor once you step inside the apartment), but also waved it off since it might as well have been neighbours just outside in the hall.

next weird thing that happens is after we had started dating and i pretty much lived there with him, and this time i experienced it. i started work around noon whereas C left around 6 in the morning. so im in bed and its maybe 10 o’clock, and i wake up to that loud, springy clicking noise of the locking mechanism in the door. and im like, what is he doing home at this time? so i get up, but no one is there. the door is also juuust a little bit askew, as if someone was going outside but then decided not to, like its just shoved open enough for the lock to click open, but the door isnt opened, its still within the width of the doorframe if you get what i mean. so i look outside and the hall is empty. i should have been able to hear steps in the very echo-y stairwell (which is also old and the acoustics are fantastic because we hear everytime a neighbour passes by, and subsequently opens the building entrance door which is also a loud, heavy door), but heard neither steps, up or down the stairs in the hall, nor anyone opening the heavy entrance door, or any evidence of human activity. all is quiet. i get a bit freaked out, because that means that unless someone else had a key, our door was unlocked from inside.

i tell C when he gets back, and after this is where shit starts to ACTUALLY go down.

im going to try to remember all of this in the correct order, but i know it started in january 2017, and went on until he moved out in december.

the song in the hallway

C talks a lot in his sleep. sometimes he even sings, he speaks in english (we’re swedish) and  he has been known to get up and take a shower at one in the morning while still asleep thinking hes late for work. for those who are on heavy sleeping medication, u get it. its not weird, mostly its funny, and its just because of the medication. these things go on literally every night and it was a bit hard to fall asleep to loud talking and incoherent words sometimes because he used to go to bed three-four hours earlier than me, but i managed just fine. one night we were in bed, it wasnt that late but C was asleep, i was on my phone next to him. i hear this weird melody being hummed, thinking its coming from C i take out my earplugs and check, but its coming from the fucking hallway. again, no one outside in the stairs, just someone or something humming a melody in the hallway. i remember my hair standing up all over my body and i was glad i slept closest to the wall, C shielding me from being viewed directly from the hallway. somehow i manage to fall asleep. and this part is going to sound weird and like its made up, im very aware, but having been through this crap i dont really care because i know it happened: the morning after C was off from work, and i for once woke up before he did. if i wake him up and his medication hasnt ‘wore off’ yet i guess (dont really know how that works) he’ll be disoriented and it takes a few minutes for his brain to register that hes awake and he can speak coherently. i did not poke him, i did not try to wake him up, but all of a sudden i hear him humming that same melody, very much deep asleep. that freaked me out.

the mimicking begins

another night around that time, i was up at around 2-3 am to go to the bathroom. i wiggle out of bed, out into the corridor, at the end of the corridor is the bathroom. when im done, i scurry back into the bedroom, information of value here i guess is i always sleep with my socks on so im wearing socks, aka i dont make a lot of noise when i get up. when im back in bed, looking at my phone, i hear footsteps - from the corridor. the freakiest thing is its like they are imitating the way i walked back from the bathroom, i can so CLEARLY hear sockless, BARE feet on the creaky floor of the hallway, literally stepping at the same pace i did. that was my first thought; someone is imitating my footsteps. i can hear them from behind the wall in the hallway, coming to a stop at the opening into the bedroom. like someone is standing there, watching. i get so scared i hide under the covers and press myself close to C and cant stop feeling icy shivers down my spine. i also cant stop thinking that someone or something waited for me in the kitchen, then walked behind me, mimicking me, and is now standing at the beedroom threshold, watching me. somehow i fall asleep, or i dont, i cant remember.at this point, im thinking somethings up with that hallway.

the poorly covered hole

this part isnt anything scary/supernatural really, just uncomfortable and kinda sets the tone for living in this apartment at the time: in the bedroom, C had placed a clothing rack next to the old 1900s floor-to-ceiling ventilation pipe that is plastered into the wall in the corner. literally just a wide ass pipe in the corner of the room that isnt in use anymore. behind the rack, leaning against the pipe, he had put a rarely used pink neon tube light and i decided it would look cool to try it out, but it was dusty in that little nook thing where it was so i had to clean it up a bit. while moving the clothing rack to vacuum, i realize there is a hole at least as big as my hand in the side of the pipe. i was like ??the frick is this? and i poke into it and there is just this thin paper membrane covering it. you could almost fit an entire head through there, and i can literally feel wafts of cold wind moving through it. there probably used to be an attached pipe of some sort to allow smoke from the kitchen to go up into the ventilation like a hundred years ago, but the thought that this at least 1 meter wide pipe, wide enough to fit a person, goes up through probably all apartments above us, up through the attic, ending as an open chimney in the roof, has this big hole in it is just… unsettling to me. obviously the pipe is not in use anymore, but that kind of only made it scarier. ive seen enough scary movies for that to make me feel a bit paranoid lol. i was almost expecting a hand to push through that paper when i touched it. but i covered it back up with the clothing rack and nothing really happened with that.

the mirror incident

one night, me and C were getting ready to go out. im getting ready in the hallway, because thats where the big wall-sized full figure mirrors are (of course). C comes out of the bathroom, runs past me infront of me, veering off to the left into the bedroom, wearing only underwear. i look after him in the mirror, i can see him in the bedroom, in front of his clothing rack. im fixing my hair at the time, both hands on my head. to my direct left is the front door and the space with our shoes and jackets. right in front of the door, for a split moment while im turning back to keep looking at myself in the mirror, i see what looks exactly like C but paler, wearing only underwear, standing in the same position as me, turned away from me as if the thing is also looking in a mirror. heads on its head like its fixing its hair, just like me. imitating me. i get shivers just typing this down. i tell C what i just saw, i literally went: ”uh C? i just saw a man infront of the door”, dumbfounded, and we both got a bit freaked out, and got out of there pretty quickly.

learning about demons

a few weeks later, C invites his friend to comes to visit. im not there at that time so i never met her, but she apparently had a knack for sensing ghosts and picking up on energies etc. he told me that when he got up to get them more wine from the kitchen and left her alone in the couch in the bedroom, she said she really felt very uncomfortable sitting with her back to the hallway corridor. she also told him that ghosts and spirits are usually not malevolent and you can get by fine living in a ‘haunted’ house. but when he told her what we had experienced so far, she told him that ghosts usually dont behave that way, and that a rule is that if something is imitating or mimicking you, its probably not a ghost, but might be signs of fucking DEMONIC ACTIVITY. apparently demons like to mock and impersonate people. friendly caspers dont do that. fun.

realizing the triangle/cursed ground

so, yeah. weird things kept happening. but we had jobs, sometimes you just gotta ignore that shit and try not to live your life terrified of demons. which we still were for the record; i dont think we ever left each other alone in that apartment for any longer than necessary after that, i remember C actually staying at his dads during the time i went away to see my family.

anyway, when we had started dating C had introduced this podcast to me. its a swedish one where a guy called jack reads creepypastas, analyzes spooky stuff, old folklore, all that stuff, and also reads original content and real stories written by listeners. its really good and really creepy. so that podcast had been going for maybe two years by then so i had a LOT to catch up with, wich wasnt a bad thing at all. i remember by this time is was summer and i was out on the street smoking a cigarette after doing dishes, and the episode i was listening to was about the last of the execution spots/gallow hills (?? i guess is the correct term? not sure) in sweden. remember, we lived in the old part of the city center, in the northern part of the city. very old buildings, very old everything. so jack commences to talk about the famous last gallow hill in [our city] and where it was located, when the final execution took place and for what, how many people had been killed there and its entire bloody history. i almost drop my cigarette, because he says it was located on zenithgatan (”zenith street”), and where the gallows used to be there is now a kindergarten. so im on our street, just outside our kitchen windows, looking right at that specific kindergarten. just across the main road. i will provide a screenshot of a map and a street view of what i was looking at to let you know i am not making this up:

so the street we lived on is called döbelnsgatan (”döbeln street”, döbeln is apparently a city in germany, i just googled that), at the very end of the street, our citys main old cemetary is juuust beyond our line of sight to the right from the kitchen windows and where i was standing. however, across from us: zenithgatan, with all of its bloody history. i couldnt help but to wonder how far the blood could had flown from there and where the bodies had been thrown, if this entire part of town is built on bloody ground etc. it really gave me massive creeps.

a few years later (which would be a few months ago, when i moved in to the room where i live presently) i happened to land a conversation about ghosts with my new flatmate. turns out she also used to live in those neighbourhoods, in an apartment on the third floor literally overlooking the cemetary, but on celciusgatan, which would be the next street over from döbelnsgatan (see map). and she told me, without me having said anything at all about all of this, that that part of town including her apartment has always been haunted. she used to see a shadow of a man through frosted glass doors, moving around in rooms that were closed when both she and her son and her sister were in the kitchen. she didnt experience any malice however, and also had someone come check it out for her, but apparently she just had nice ghosts. but we agreed that yeah, these buildings are literallty inbetween a cemetary and the gallows; there are probably bound to be a lot of lost souls wandering around.

this could also be over-analyzing it, but if you draw lines from the cemetary to the site of the executions to döbelnsgatan/celciusgatan, it makes a perfect triangle. while googling the translation of ‘döbeln’ just now it says right in the wikipedia description that it is located ‘somewhat in the middle of a triangle, made up by three cities’. coincidence, perhaps. probably. but still. by now im pretty conviced of anything that could hold any significance about all of this.

the painting

later on, maybe by a few months, and C tells me when i get home from work that he had woken up that day, after i went to work, from the painting atop of his big secretaire/chiffonier/bookcase (its really a big piece of heavy furtinure, but lets call it bookcase just to be simple) coming crashing down behind it. that painting had stood there since january, at least 9-10 months, and had not fallen down ONCE. it was leaning against the wall, perched safely and steady on the bookcase, with at least a centimeter bookcase until the gap between wall and furniture. i remember thinking last time i looked it was covered in dust because no one even as much as dusted that thing off, and there had been no weird vibrations in the walls that would have shook it either. by this point we’re both very, very uncomfortable in this apartment.

the painting and the hollow in the wall

and here comes the final thing that happened before he moved out, the part that we have on film. ill have to ask my ex for the footage if anyones interested in it, which is fine.

C was doing a collaboration with some people on instagram, an educational account about depression, self-harm, anxiety and such. they gave him the assignment to film himself talking about personal experiences, i think they wanted maybe 13 videos or something like that, the theme being ‘death’ (those videos are still up, im unsure if they posted this one as it kind of strayed from the mental health stuff a bit, but i know C has it still). so at this time - maybe september or october? i really dont know exactly when this was, i could probably scroll on their instagram account but im too lazy - he was filming himself a lot. so, he brought up the painting crashing, and filmed us both while demonstrating how it physically could not have moved and crashed down behind the bookcase because of the way it stood on top of it. it would have been one thing if it fell forward, but then it would have landed on its front and fallen in front of the bookcase, probably shattered the glass. but it fell BEHIND it. on camera, you can see my hands pushing on it to demonstrate the way it went down into that snug space inbetween. you would have had to physically push on it, at least a centimeter back, from the front. so for some reason, i get the very random idea to knock on the wall behind it. which means, i stand in the corridor and knock on the corridor wall that divides the bedroom from the hallway. and i swear to god, this is ON FILM. i knock all over the wall and its all concrete - except for THE SPOT EXACTLY BEHIND THE FUCKING PAINTING. the wall is hollow. right behind the painting. where it stood leaned against on the other side. i cant explain why i all of a sudden tried knocking all over the wall, or why the actual fuck there is a hollow square in the middle of the corridor wall, but that really fucked us up. there were just too many weird coincidences, you know.

like, all of this happened, or seemed to be centered around, the corridor. as if our hallway was some nexus for supernatural activity. and with that hollow thing, it was like it was starting to make its way into the bedroom, you know? unsettling.

thankfully, C moved out of there in december and we didnt have to stay there anymore, but i sometimes pass by and think about asking the current tenant or the neighbours if they experienced anything strange. its just so eerie. the mimicking parts were the scariest to me, and i get chills thinking about them and reading it even now.

so, thats my long, long overdue creepy encounter. i am VERY aware i sound insane but, hey. what can i do. i am not one for lying and i know that so thats all that matters tbh. i have other encounters as well, but living in that apartment takes the fucking cake.

[inhalareexhalare]

The menstrual cycle begins. I usually feel pain until the third day at most, but I can move just fine.

Slow, but with fight in it Like embers of honey

It scorches the eyes But is sweet to the palm

Did you know by the way? The faster and the hotter you heat honey, the more you reduce its nutritional value. So yes, while it has a very warm color, its temperature is usually not the same :)

2018-10-23 10:00 Philippines Tuesday

My daytime journal has been discontinued due to its tendency to take over my whole identity. I somewhat live [a double life], you could say, and I am now exploring my nighttime psyche.

This is my heartfelt "letter" to @neweresth​ (CHECK OUT neweresth IN YOUR DASHBOARD BTW IT WILL ROCK YOUR DORMANT WORLD), who inspires me to keep learning and discover my photographic sense.

True enough, this nighttime journal has been a very big compilation of crunchy insights to my deep-deep-down subconscious, which in my opinion takes a big bite off the whole pie of what makes the self.

I've been anxious about how to teach for a time now. It's like a secret calling, a secret dream that I have that I quietly—and secretly—shut off every time it resurfaces.

The reason is my ineptitude with socializing. Communication, especially verbal, has always been hard for me.

My English teachers throughout my school life (and even outside its premises) have doubted my authorship of countless papers I've written, all due to the fact that I navigate speech poorly, yet apparently write eloquently enough above my age.

That has discouraged me from honing my lesser swords. The possibility of never growing out of anything.

But that's bullshit.

I write because I love. I write because I want to communicate. Communicate!

I write for no one else other than for the truths that live inside me, and they are written for no one else but others who could do with a genuine story that cares about their beautiful and suffering minds.

I am socially inept. I am antisocial, by the world's standards. But that doesn't change what I write for.

I write to learn.

Likewise I will teach to learn.

Maybe I am bad at it. Maybe it takes talent.

But nothing good has ever touched and transformed hearts and minds other than that which has originated from those very things.

Talent is a gift indeed.

But heart even more so; it is both curse and privilege.

The pain that makes us human. The agony that teaches us what is real. The happiness that guides us to what is worth living for.

If I had all power, and all talent, all knowledge, and all beauty. If I had all riches, and all the admiration, and fame, and number of friends--

If I have not love, I am nothing.

PS I really do love movies. If you’re an aspiring writer, or a writer with fluctuating inspiration, do watch The Rewrite. Check out  1 Corinthians 13:2

“And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.” 

2018-10-23 18:07 Philippines Tuesday

"Keenness, spontaneity, and trusting the moment..."

I entered the room to discover a Thor exploring the wonders of my film-filled laptop.

I took my favorite Nuyorican Poets Cafe book to read and learn. Stepped out to the living room filled with people and stretched my legs to feel at home on the couch. I made a re-friend! :) Yana approached me and asked about the book.

I didn't know she was interested in prose and poetry! She also writes snippets here and there sometimes. I told her to collect them.

I asked for recommendations, since strangely enough, even though I like to write I don't have a wide background when it comes to poetry from the celebrated and the local poets alike.

I don't know why I didn't read them sooner.

Keep learning!

2018-10-23 19:31 Philippines Tuesday

To Karu:

Sorry for imposing on you last night. I just really do value good sleep. I don't know about you but I can't workout without it, and it also affects the general mood and brain function.

I still don't know what to do about it. Everyone seems to enjoy not sleeping at night, but I don't feel like conforming to it especially since I see its daily effects on me. You can actually join stuff like that if you like. I was thinking that we both need sleep desperately, but I realized that I might have been forcing/pressuring you to go to bed.

Though I do request to have no guests in the late night of this approaching Saturday. I'm going to need tons of energy and also an early alarm since I will be called for work (thank God they allowed me to go to church first)

(Even if I did only request it, that doesn't change what it might have felt to you. So again, I apologize if a part of you was in unease or anything.)

I love you

[25 minutes later]

I would like to kiss you all over, but that will rouse you from sleep.

I love you, and I love you to death.

2018-10-24 06:21 Philippines Wednesday

From Isla:

"My tita and tito from [the] US are here in the PH right now

"and they said im too young to be in a relationship.

"and gave this vibe like......don't be in one right now.

"i really appreciate the love and support from them ofc

"it's just....medj na-down ako lol" [I was a bit downhearted lol]

To Isla:

I'm assuming they aren't free thinkers, your aunt and uncle hahaha

They probably are right, but if you think about it that observation is only relative to an imaginary concept which is the future

In my opinion, no one is too old, and no one is too young. It's never too late, and it's never too early

There's only now, and a moment's opportunity to come to a decision

There's only now, and a moment's commitment to be true to who you are at this point in time

Only what is existent after all counts as truth :) the future is yet to happen, and both possible and unlikely

Entrusting the sense of reality to tomorrow, in other words, a question mark seems illogical to me

The BEAUTIFUL book you gave me about the deaf-mutes gave me this idea

The future is not a universal or "natural" concept

[Check out Seeing Voices by Oliver Sacks]

And the past is not more real than a memory is. And we all know how nearly inexistent memories are. That's all they are--memories.

From Isla:

"Those are beautiful thoughts. :)

"Reading it really helped me.

"I'm thankful that i have you in my life."

[An hour later]

"Did other people tell you the same thing before? if you don't mind me asking

"Have you ever been so hard on yourself one time in your life, and eventually you stopped it?

What did you do to overcome it?"

To Isla:

Personally, it takes me a continuous amount of effort to stand up against the self-hatred. Some say it's a lifelong sickness we have as humans, and it seems true to me

(also, writing heals both the writer, and hopefully the reader, so it's mutually a good thing, hopefully hahaha)

It's like the motivation to commit to a vocation

It's not natural to be motivated at every moment of your life, but we seek to make it a habit

Habits form the shape that our thoughts and feelings take. Like my nighttime anxiety. It was developed because I gained the habit of thinking that I am alone and abandoned every time these factors come together: it is nighttime, and I am physically alone

I unconsciously associate the scenery with something from the past that reminds me of a similar situation, but is actually entirely different

In fact it dates back to the time I was still very close to my mother. We still loved each other as I grew up, but not too close as to always be hugging every chance we get

It dates back to when I was a little girl of age 5 at most (since the scenes were from my Atimonan home, and we left that when I entered elementary)

Habits don't die on their own. They cannot be thrown away just like that. But, they can be replaced

If I can create a little nighttime routine, even just cue words or a little ritual, that could change a lot. I just need consistency because some nights I'm too tired and I forget to pray or to practice deep breaths and stuff. And when I find myself alone again, it starts all over; I get anxious as hell

So maybe the first step before changing your habits would be to forgive yourself

We are imperfect, at that is incurable. But we have the potential for growth, and that is at least forgivable. We can learn from our mistakes, so we shouldn't let ourselves down from them.

They are there to give us two options: give up, or try again.

Changing a habit is probably going to take more tries than my fingers can count, but hey we're still alive and breathing, so I presume Life is willing to give us as many chances as we need in a lifetime

Failure is unfortunate, but failure is an important mark of what truly matters to you.

If it's worth more than the self-obsessive need to be successful, and if it means your life and your calling and a better world, it's at least worth trying again, no? :)

When people bring you down, they could be there for a good reason, and that's not to bring you down. Maybe that's hardly what they wanted to do in the first place.

We need to learn to assert our own beliefs and stand up to them. Maybe they think it's all just a whim because they don't understand yet how it matters to you, and what it means to grow up.

Growing up means making mistakes (your relationship is not necessarily a mistake haha), getting up, and learning something new.

Learning something new always requires a new experience.

Learning something new always means stepping out of your comfort zone and into unknown territory.

If you end up hurt, that's fine, we're here for you. What's important is that the lessons are not lost. What you learn is what you grow out into.

So don't ever stop learning. :)

Learn to stand up for what you believe in.

Don't be afraid to share what you have learned!

But never impose beyond your personal right to live. Nothing teaches an individual more than a personal experience.

We each take our own paths, and each take our own lessons in life, in forms that we are ready to understand.

And if advice or conversation cannot help your case with them, then you've done your part.

All you need to do is live your life and live it honestly enough for it to speak for itself

2018-10-24 07:00 Philippines Wednesday