#reality

MYSTICISM. Mandala of the Seasons the Cycles of Life. Arising In the Mind with Jnana Yoga Way of Savant Knowledge and simultaneous Siddha Yoga of Esoteric and Occult Effects. Savage through the Ages with Mountain Lion nicknamed Shambala Familiar to be savage growing Mystically with the same Mountain Lion Familiar.

The widow, Laura, walked into the garden. Cracked Stone walls surrounded her, their green vines slithering toward bushes plump with blood-red berries. At the center of the garden stood a rectangular stone basin shaped like an angel. It knelt before the pool as if to deliver water from its mouth. Yet what flowed was bleak black water, filled with sticks and the smal bodies of dying insects. When she was younger, she remembered tossing coins and watching them sink into the water's darkness.…

Mandala of the Seasons. Arises In the Mind to Meditation, Enlightenment and Nirvana All things blown out THE Void. The Sabbatic Goat of Mendes corresponds to Adam Kadmon of Hermetic Qabalah and Ymir the Frost Giant, also Greek God Pan In THE Void.

This used to happen to me quite often when I was younger, but lately I have had “different” experiences. To start with, I would like to say that this is all true. Everything I write here is fact, and you don’t have to believe me.

Annabelle was the focus of a case that famed paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren took part in during the early 1970s, and is highlighted in the book The Demonologist. It has been stated that this is one of the most unusual cases of a possessed object on record.

I usually don’t write my experiences down in journals like this. Typically, I’d prefer to just keep my unsavory memories in my head to let them rot away over time, which makes the pain easier to cope with. However, with everything that has happened to me recently, I’d feel guilty if I just let all those traumatic experiences simply be forgotten about, especially since they involve friends and people so dear to me… So, I shall tell the story of that godforsaken Airbnb and how it led me down a…

Some of you may have heard that the Disney corporation is responsible for at least one real, “live” Ghost Town. Disney built the “Treasure Island” resort in Baker’s Bay in the Bahamas. It didn’t START as a ghost town! Disney’s cruise ships would actually stop at the resort and leave tourists there to relax in luxury. This is a FACT. Look it up. Disney blew $30,000,000 on the place… yes, Thirty Million Dollars. Then they abandoned it.

In the first quarter of 2012, a scientist named Alexander Stuart Khaimov discovered a technological means to immortality. That is to say, Dr. Khaimov fulfilled one of the longest running pursuits of the human race – the desire to defeat death.

The Hellhounds are each Mind Merged In THE Void and Linked Up with each Other as a Platoon. They Sense what to Hunt in the most ancient woods attackers who are guilty and who especially deserve to die being murderers who hurt people who could not fight back. Three Demon Hellhounds. Three cabins in the most ancient woods. Looks barren to murderers. Who hurt people in the middle of nowhere. They follow a group of young people into the woods, and kidnap them, torture, and rape them.

I've always hated my job for one simple, yet insurmountable reason: nothing ever happens. Imagine spending nine hours. NINE freaking hours. Locked inside a concrete bunker, listening to the universe breathe into your head through an oversized pair of headphones. The higher-ups like to pretend this is some kind of essential service. That my job is somehow paramount to the advancement of the human race. It isn't.

Poster: DoomBathRoom033 Subject: Weird story (?) I found in my attic This is my first time posting on this part of the forums and if I'm breaking any of the rules please let me know! Quick background: my husband and I recently bought a house and we've been documenting our DIY adventures as we renovate it. Here's a link to the thread, check it out if you enjoy questionable design choices and photos of our superstar celebrity cat, Mr. Scratch!

Raised Trained against criminals and Evil world wide. A Special Op, nicknamed The Blue Dragon. He wears various shades blue camo to camo at night and under full moon light especially patterned with the leaves if sleeping on the ground, or positioned appropriately. He can only see at night and under the full moon which lights up the world more than normal at nightfall. He grows up Trained and savage like a Blue Dragon.

Old father long-Legs Can’t say his prayers. Take him by the left leg And throw him down the stairs. And when he’s at the bottom, Before he long has lain, Take him by the right leg And throw him up again. ~ Nursery rhyme

At the outset, I should tell you I’m a thief. Not a classless “smash and grab” guy or a lowly pickpocket. Those require no planning or strategy beyond “move quickly and be ready to run.” I’m a fourth-generation cat burglar. I’m very good at my job. If everything goes right, you don’t notice I’ve been there for weeks. If ever.

MYSTICISM. The Mandala of the Seasons Cycles of Life. Arising In the Mind Jnana Yoga Way of Savant Knowledge and simultaneous Siddha Yoga, Arises to Enlightenment and Nirvana Mind Merged In THE Void. Becomes the first Shade, Ghost. Passes through matter and material Energy of the universe and Dimensions. As a human in the modern World the Shade Inhabiting and Animating a human host body drives one dark and stormy night, then wrecks the car into the river off the bridge and drowns.

To start off, the name’s Jay, and honestly, I never really wanted to tell this story. For years, I buried it deep, locked it away like a nightmare too awful to face. But now as I sit down and write this, I realize I owe it to the children who didn’t survive and to ones like me who still carry the scars. Looking back, I wish I had just relied on E3 and other events or just never went to anything Nintendo-themed at all.

Samantha was a young, pretty, active girl with a positive outlook on life. Above all, she was down-to-earth, didn't believe in any ghosts, phantoms, or other such things, and had a very analytical mind. ​She loved long forest hikes, which relaxed and calmed her down greatly, allowing her to rest and escape from everyday problems. That day, right after finishing her lectures, she decided to head down to the river. She packed her backpack, put on a denim jacket, denim pants, and sturdy, heavy…

The devil on the fiery porch. He was back again that year, the same as he had been for five years running, keeping the majority of Trick or Treaters behind an imaginary line of uneasiness drawn at the edge of the curb with his Hell-red grin and burning cauldrons. It was a scene from Faust, only this was no play; this was my neighborhood.

I wake up. It’s bright in here. Extremely bright. What is this place? A prison? A hospital? There are 4 solid walls, a stiff cot, and a small vent. Is there a door? I don’t see a door. Where the hell am I? How did I get here? Think… what happened? Remember what happened… Where was I last night? Where did I fall asleep? Shit… I can’t think. I can’t think of anything. Is this some fucked up experiment? I can’t think. I can’t even think of my damn name! Who am I?

It's been a week since my wife died, and it was my fault—all of it. I still remember that day, detail for detail: the sound of metal and nature meeting, the smell of gasoline and pine needles meshing together, and the revolting taste of iron that danced on my tongue. I survived for one reason, a sickening reason: at the time of the crash, I was inebriated. As for my wife... she died on impact. I tried everything, pleading and even praying to God that she wasn't dead; I guess God ignored my…