Bubbles of pressurized blood
Bubbles of pressurized blood, burping pumping thumping pounding at my left thigh, at first I thought it only a clog or a choked vein piling blood high into a dead end flow where it had to rush back into its own flow which rose in resistance unaware that it too would be flowing back soon; so I eased pressure on my thigh, released deep breaths of air and inhaled fresh, but the pounding on my left thigh persisted. There comes a point at which you start to run out of medical or rational excuses for a symptom and then you have no choice but to accept supernatural causes.
A while back I had been possessed by spirits, mostly evil spirits, but the more I accepted my natural existence, the less they liked me as a host; spirits inhabit those of us that have not fully grasped the reality of the material world, you have to in part not completely believe that you are here to be primed for a spirit possessions; the less you have your nuts on tight, the more likely you are to be possess. Which of course doesn’t help you any in your quest through real life because once you go around telling people that you have a spirit inside of you they think you are less real or more accurately nuts. Spirits appreciate your misery as their advantage to visit the earth or their relatives, and pass just a little more time digging around those that dug them. That your friends and family think that you are nuts also maintains that stealth like quality that spirits love so much, they remain phantasmal apparitions that are not believable, which for them means that as long as your friends don’t believe that you are walking around with a spirit inside of you they will not exorcise the spirit. That lack of belief is what has kept the technology for fighting spirits in its premature infancy, limited to a few catholic priests and their slightly more advanced counterparts shawmen. Your uncertainty is their certainty. Your friends will cure you from believing that there is a spirit inside of you, “it is all in your head,” thus the spirit operates with diplomatic immunity, wrecking your life while you assume full responsibility.
Life is hard enough without any spirits inside of you, and I had had numerous dark experiences with previous possessions, which meant that this time around, the spirit bumping within my thigh was about to meet dramatic resistance. You can’t really get rid of the things, you can’t kill them, killing yourself merely releases them, but you can make it really horrific inside of yourself so that they may consider a voluntary exit, in short the only way to get rid of spirits is to convince them that they do not really want to be inside of you. The problem is one of being aware of yourself, in order for these things to stay uninvited you have to agree to believe in a lot of things that are not real, and to believe in concrete reality so that they will feel so grounded that that they just won’t like it. Remain ephemeral in your beliefs and you will host all the spirits in the universe, they don’t care about you, you are just a free ride. And don’t go thinking that god is going to help you, the spirit of god will get rid of other spirits but only by taking their place within your soul, so that there is no room for any one else including you, once the spirit of god possesses you forget it, there is no way to get rid of it. You might as well fall in love with it. At least other spirits take habitat only within your body and not also in your spirit, there are preferences to be made here, of course if you are not happy with yourself the spirit of god will relieve you.
So whomever this spirit was inside of me, it had made the fatal mistake of arriving into my experienced corporeal self, I believed in spirits, I had met some quaint spirits and had suffered duels with dark hearts from the never- never; I was so tuned to the whole spirit world that I knew how to acknowledge it without having to resort to my friends and family; I did not need to alert them because I could handle it myself, spirit, spirit, you are just passing through or so I thought.
Spirits need to feel some form of acknowledgement of their existence, fear is a good informant, if you refuse them fear, then they don’t really know if they are inside you, spirits don’t have locality, they don’t have a home, so they don’t have a way of saying to themselves “I am here,” no, they are wherever something tells them that they are, and they are not able to communicate directly with you to ask, “am I here,” so they try to scare you a little not because they want to, though there are some that get addicted to it, but most merely scare you just to know where they are, you, for instance, break a twig to mark your trail in the jungle, when they see you whimper or panic spirits temporarily establish their position in space time. In order to keep in a space time locality, the spirits have to keep on scaring you a little bit, which is why they electrically charge the air to altercate pots and pans, picture frames, and occasionally cause a depression on a couch or a fleeting shadow. None of these acts are easy for a spirit, it requires a lot of energy for them to accomplish the slightest kinetic apparition, for them this is like work, they are very low energy beings, they use infinitesimally less energy than the remote control to your television, they have to spiral and twist at hyper velocities in space to collect just enough static to move your picture frame or fake a reflection in a mirror, it is work. They don’t like to do it, they are lazy, occasionally they will gather like a pack of wolfs to use their collective energy to maintain a locality, this does make it easier for them to torture us into fearing them, thus confirming their locality, but spirits in general are loners, so a gang of spirits is a very rare treat.
I calculated that the spirit inside of me making my blood boil was an amateur, probably new to the spirit world, not used to the idea of a borderless universe, was needing to inhabit something really bad, didn’t like they idea of not knowing where he was, had child like aspirations of becoming something and so was now doing a lot of work to make me blood boil bubbles in my thigh. At first I was amused, but more I was tired, tired of these mierda thinking that I could be possess like a toy, I did not mind some of the earlier possessions because they were experts, they were out to make me have nightmares, to make me scratch endlessly where I did not itch, but this spirit was just spinning around inside of my thigh, who knows how many times per second, simply testing out the insignificant physical powers that spirits have.
The boiling stop at some point of the day, probably because I wasn’t reacting to it, which indicated nothing to the ghost; without my fears to give him existence the ghost was dully obligated to stop if only for the sake of reevaluating what he was doing. But then I went to sleep and the thing started again to pump against my thigh, this was no longer an obnoxious young ghost it was now an intolerable moron that needed to be exorcised. Now forced evictions are not taken kindly, the spirit world is very sensitive on these matters, they just don’ like rejection, they hold a grudge, so when you kick a spirit out of your avatar’s body be sure that if you meet them in the uncertainty, be sure that there will be added uncertainty.
The blood boiling wildly begun again, this was indeed a powerful if naive spirit, always pride yourself in being possessed by powerful spirits. I call it the Cleopatra syndrome, after all those believers in reincarnation that believe, that in their previous lives, they were Zesar or Cleopatra, surprisingly clear evidence that a formidable spirit can fragment into a lot of average people. I have met a lot of reincarnated queens and kings and emperors, I have never met any reincarnated dictators like Hitler. Maybe Hitler did not believe in reincarnation and if so his reincarnated self would not know that it had reincarnated or maybe he is just keeping a wise silence. But there is always the possibility that if you are a hideous person you are not allowed to reincarnate, you are perished from the material world, that proposition might encourage some of us to become malevolent Ivan the Terrible. Regardless reincarnation has allowed a lot of nameless average people to accept their lot in life.
Blood boiling up my thigh, I tried to ignore it, but then I felt it crawling upwards from within me, very slowly, as if it were a body of physical characteristics, I continued mentally to insist that this was not happening convincing myself that the material world would not tolerate ghost entities, that reality was abundant with denials of strange phenomenon, you can’t really be real unless you are fanatic about existing, I was convinced that this spirit was not crawling inside of me but the damn thing kept on crawling slowly ascending, an inch a minute, one more inch minute, gesticulating noises that one could not discern as echoed by my bodily functions, but as it wriggled its way up it seem to also be growing so that its apparent tail end was still boiling blood in my thigh, and from there I just felt the elongating essence of something that was slowly becoming a slithering monstrosity somewhere within me. Again I kept on telling myself that it was not real, but my body was crawling with noises caused by blood being pressurized by something that was pushing it against my cellular walls, I felt my stomach moved aside, I felt my lungs tucked at as if a mountain climber were using them to hoist a body to its peak. More I begun to say this is not real, my eyes wide open, almost indecent in their exposure to the external world where anything in within me including my bones ought not have existed, but this was not the case, unable to search an escape, I tried to physically fight it, touching myself my stomach, my chest sort of to comfort the discomfort that was being uttered by whatever was laying a life within me, and the painfully reptilian nature of this thing with almost two heads somewhere in between its clumsily distributed length begun to exposed itself, protruding slowly into my tactile awareness, my fingers reading in Braille, “monster fungus like creature, yellow and red and purple, slithering slime, two grapefruit size heads, and nine tiny mouths dangling like worms from its upper tubular where they fed on little bits of me, finally reaching my mouth where they begun a serious tooth cleaning job, and all I could do was say “this is not happening, this is not happening,” it was happening, and the dangling heads started to talk to me, with their licking tongues, mouth worms, talking to me? Still trying to encourage my rational side I comforted myself with the proposition that maybe I had picked up a parasite while visiting a third world country, or fucking third world women or drinking third world water, and this thing had slowly grown itself inside of me, and was not overly congested within me, outgrowing its host, and now either one of us needed my heart most; but the talking teeth cleaning mouth headed worms seem to intelligently respond; “I am from another dimension of the universe.” My eyes froze in place, steady, steady, my hands grabbed my bed, “I am not a spirit,” dangling mouth headed worms eating away within my mouth not spirits, my body locked in violent rigamurtis stiffness, “I tunnel through the universe in the body of other creatures, surfacing to experience,” violently I squirreled squeals, dark air nuzzling out of my nostrils, dark air, “I try not to nourish on what you need to survive, but it is difficult now that I am large and require almost as much as you do,” that explained my voracious appetite, sparks flying out of my pores, electrical discharges arching my five fingers in twenty total, “I am not a spirit, I live long and been to many places through many but I am no spirit” my eyebrows squinting to release tension that was formidably unsustainable, the bones in my hands aching, “was this thing trying to convince itself of its reality, “I do not mean to harm, it is how I exist, crawling from universe to universe, infecting myself into physicality only I always outgrow my host, put myself on a diet but I don’t stop growing, diets just make grow more of my mouth headed worms, my coiling body exasperated reaches for more nourishment,” a humanitarian alien had infested my body, the explanation was not endearing nor comforting, “I try not to eat you, but like you I can’t deny my existence enough to be a spirit, I live, and live and grow and…” why was this alien going on, it was obvious that before the day would faint I was going to disprove my existence, “its not like that, I can’t help myself, I don’t want to consume you but my body won’t let me die,” red yellow purple blood filled sack gave birth to itself.
RC
A while back I had been possessed by spirits, mostly evil spirits, but the more I accepted my natural existence, the less they liked me as a host; spirits inhabit those of us that have not fully grasped the reality of the material world, you have to in part not completely believe that you are here to be primed for a spirit possessions; the less you have your nuts on tight, the more likely you are to be possess. Which of course doesn’t help you any in your quest through real life because once you go around telling people that you have a spirit inside of you they think you are less real or more accurately nuts. Spirits appreciate your misery as their advantage to visit the earth or their relatives, and pass just a little more time digging around those that dug them. That your friends and family think that you are nuts also maintains that stealth like quality that spirits love so much, they remain phantasmal apparitions that are not believable, which for them means that as long as your friends don’t believe that you are walking around with a spirit inside of you they will not exorcise the spirit. That lack of belief is what has kept the technology for fighting spirits in its premature infancy, limited to a few catholic priests and their slightly more advanced counterparts shawmen. Your uncertainty is their certainty. Your friends will cure you from believing that there is a spirit inside of you, “it is all in your head,” thus the spirit operates with diplomatic immunity, wrecking your life while you assume full responsibility.
Life is hard enough without any spirits inside of you, and I had had numerous dark experiences with previous possessions, which meant that this time around, the spirit bumping within my thigh was about to meet dramatic resistance. You can’t really get rid of the things, you can’t kill them, killing yourself merely releases them, but you can make it really horrific inside of yourself so that they may consider a voluntary exit, in short the only way to get rid of spirits is to convince them that they do not really want to be inside of you. The problem is one of being aware of yourself, in order for these things to stay uninvited you have to agree to believe in a lot of things that are not real, and to believe in concrete reality so that they will feel so grounded that that they just won’t like it. Remain ephemeral in your beliefs and you will host all the spirits in the universe, they don’t care about you, you are just a free ride. And don’t go thinking that god is going to help you, the spirit of god will get rid of other spirits but only by taking their place within your soul, so that there is no room for any one else including you, once the spirit of god possesses you forget it, there is no way to get rid of it. You might as well fall in love with it. At least other spirits take habitat only within your body and not also in your spirit, there are preferences to be made here, of course if you are not happy with yourself the spirit of god will relieve you.
So whomever this spirit was inside of me, it had made the fatal mistake of arriving into my experienced corporeal self, I believed in spirits, I had met some quaint spirits and had suffered duels with dark hearts from the never- never; I was so tuned to the whole spirit world that I knew how to acknowledge it without having to resort to my friends and family; I did not need to alert them because I could handle it myself, spirit, spirit, you are just passing through or so I thought.
Spirits need to feel some form of acknowledgement of their existence, fear is a good informant, if you refuse them fear, then they don’t really know if they are inside you, spirits don’t have locality, they don’t have a home, so they don’t have a way of saying to themselves “I am here,” no, they are wherever something tells them that they are, and they are not able to communicate directly with you to ask, “am I here,” so they try to scare you a little not because they want to, though there are some that get addicted to it, but most merely scare you just to know where they are, you, for instance, break a twig to mark your trail in the jungle, when they see you whimper or panic spirits temporarily establish their position in space time. In order to keep in a space time locality, the spirits have to keep on scaring you a little bit, which is why they electrically charge the air to altercate pots and pans, picture frames, and occasionally cause a depression on a couch or a fleeting shadow. None of these acts are easy for a spirit, it requires a lot of energy for them to accomplish the slightest kinetic apparition, for them this is like work, they are very low energy beings, they use infinitesimally less energy than the remote control to your television, they have to spiral and twist at hyper velocities in space to collect just enough static to move your picture frame or fake a reflection in a mirror, it is work. They don’t like to do it, they are lazy, occasionally they will gather like a pack of wolfs to use their collective energy to maintain a locality, this does make it easier for them to torture us into fearing them, thus confirming their locality, but spirits in general are loners, so a gang of spirits is a very rare treat.
I calculated that the spirit inside of me making my blood boil was an amateur, probably new to the spirit world, not used to the idea of a borderless universe, was needing to inhabit something really bad, didn’t like they idea of not knowing where he was, had child like aspirations of becoming something and so was now doing a lot of work to make me blood boil bubbles in my thigh. At first I was amused, but more I was tired, tired of these mierda thinking that I could be possess like a toy, I did not mind some of the earlier possessions because they were experts, they were out to make me have nightmares, to make me scratch endlessly where I did not itch, but this spirit was just spinning around inside of my thigh, who knows how many times per second, simply testing out the insignificant physical powers that spirits have.
The boiling stop at some point of the day, probably because I wasn’t reacting to it, which indicated nothing to the ghost; without my fears to give him existence the ghost was dully obligated to stop if only for the sake of reevaluating what he was doing. But then I went to sleep and the thing started again to pump against my thigh, this was no longer an obnoxious young ghost it was now an intolerable moron that needed to be exorcised. Now forced evictions are not taken kindly, the spirit world is very sensitive on these matters, they just don’ like rejection, they hold a grudge, so when you kick a spirit out of your avatar’s body be sure that if you meet them in the uncertainty, be sure that there will be added uncertainty.
The blood boiling wildly begun again, this was indeed a powerful if naive spirit, always pride yourself in being possessed by powerful spirits. I call it the Cleopatra syndrome, after all those believers in reincarnation that believe, that in their previous lives, they were Zesar or Cleopatra, surprisingly clear evidence that a formidable spirit can fragment into a lot of average people. I have met a lot of reincarnated queens and kings and emperors, I have never met any reincarnated dictators like Hitler. Maybe Hitler did not believe in reincarnation and if so his reincarnated self would not know that it had reincarnated or maybe he is just keeping a wise silence. But there is always the possibility that if you are a hideous person you are not allowed to reincarnate, you are perished from the material world, that proposition might encourage some of us to become malevolent Ivan the Terrible. Regardless reincarnation has allowed a lot of nameless average people to accept their lot in life.
Blood boiling up my thigh, I tried to ignore it, but then I felt it crawling upwards from within me, very slowly, as if it were a body of physical characteristics, I continued mentally to insist that this was not happening convincing myself that the material world would not tolerate ghost entities, that reality was abundant with denials of strange phenomenon, you can’t really be real unless you are fanatic about existing, I was convinced that this spirit was not crawling inside of me but the damn thing kept on crawling slowly ascending, an inch a minute, one more inch minute, gesticulating noises that one could not discern as echoed by my bodily functions, but as it wriggled its way up it seem to also be growing so that its apparent tail end was still boiling blood in my thigh, and from there I just felt the elongating essence of something that was slowly becoming a slithering monstrosity somewhere within me. Again I kept on telling myself that it was not real, but my body was crawling with noises caused by blood being pressurized by something that was pushing it against my cellular walls, I felt my stomach moved aside, I felt my lungs tucked at as if a mountain climber were using them to hoist a body to its peak. More I begun to say this is not real, my eyes wide open, almost indecent in their exposure to the external world where anything in within me including my bones ought not have existed, but this was not the case, unable to search an escape, I tried to physically fight it, touching myself my stomach, my chest sort of to comfort the discomfort that was being uttered by whatever was laying a life within me, and the painfully reptilian nature of this thing with almost two heads somewhere in between its clumsily distributed length begun to exposed itself, protruding slowly into my tactile awareness, my fingers reading in Braille, “monster fungus like creature, yellow and red and purple, slithering slime, two grapefruit size heads, and nine tiny mouths dangling like worms from its upper tubular where they fed on little bits of me, finally reaching my mouth where they begun a serious tooth cleaning job, and all I could do was say “this is not happening, this is not happening,” it was happening, and the dangling heads started to talk to me, with their licking tongues, mouth worms, talking to me? Still trying to encourage my rational side I comforted myself with the proposition that maybe I had picked up a parasite while visiting a third world country, or fucking third world women or drinking third world water, and this thing had slowly grown itself inside of me, and was not overly congested within me, outgrowing its host, and now either one of us needed my heart most; but the talking teeth cleaning mouth headed worms seem to intelligently respond; “I am from another dimension of the universe.” My eyes froze in place, steady, steady, my hands grabbed my bed, “I am not a spirit,” dangling mouth headed worms eating away within my mouth not spirits, my body locked in violent rigamurtis stiffness, “I tunnel through the universe in the body of other creatures, surfacing to experience,” violently I squirreled squeals, dark air nuzzling out of my nostrils, dark air, “I try not to nourish on what you need to survive, but it is difficult now that I am large and require almost as much as you do,” that explained my voracious appetite, sparks flying out of my pores, electrical discharges arching my five fingers in twenty total, “I am not a spirit, I live long and been to many places through many but I am no spirit” my eyebrows squinting to release tension that was formidably unsustainable, the bones in my hands aching, “was this thing trying to convince itself of its reality, “I do not mean to harm, it is how I exist, crawling from universe to universe, infecting myself into physicality only I always outgrow my host, put myself on a diet but I don’t stop growing, diets just make grow more of my mouth headed worms, my coiling body exasperated reaches for more nourishment,” a humanitarian alien had infested my body, the explanation was not endearing nor comforting, “I try not to eat you, but like you I can’t deny my existence enough to be a spirit, I live, and live and grow and…” why was this alien going on, it was obvious that before the day would faint I was going to disprove my existence, “its not like that, I can’t help myself, I don’t want to consume you but my body won’t let me die,” red yellow purple blood filled sack gave birth to itself.
RC
posted by Ricardo Correa at 9:14 PM
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