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Our senses and "proof" of ghosts?

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posted on Oct, 5 2009 @ 08:02 AM
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Six months after a dear friend of mine was murdered, I started having the physical sensation of walking into spider webs that weren't there (during evening walks through our sub-division, with dozens of yards of open space in every direction and no wind blowing). The webs have become more "interactive" and mainly touch my hands and forearms. I've read that spectral touch will feel like this, but I'm still skeptical. I do, however, talk with her when this occurs, and it seems to encourage it to continue.




posted on Oct, 5 2009 @ 09:16 AM
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I was always a sceptic as a kid. I loved Halloween, but the entire idea of ghosts and the supernatural was off the radar for me really, I just didn't see how any of it was possible.

But, I agree that experiencing things for yourself is what really makes the difference.

The day that made me a "believer" happened when I was sixteen, some friends and I regularly walked a few miles to an old area by sports fields in an old "country" area of our modern town in England.
On the side of the fields there was a very old house, partially hidden by a massive overgrown garden.

I've since learned that the building was the former rectory. Built in the 17th century, moated and part of a larger mansion.

It was completely derelict then, the windows were boarded up (where the boards hadn't been pulled away by curious youngsters) and the floorboards were crumbling or completely missing.
There was a lot of graffiti, but some of the original Victorian wallpaper could still be seen in some places. There was even a massive old cast iron Victorian stove in a kitchen.
Upstairs, entire floors of rooms were missing. You could walk up the narrow staircase to the landing, and into one room, but the hallway from there on was unstable and mostly just rotting beams.

So, I was there with friends one afternoon and we were exploring. I found myself alone and looking for one of my friends. I walked to the bottom of the stairs and looked up, about to climb and see if he was up there.
At the top of the stairs there was a young man, in green/brown military uniform. I'd say it was first World War. He had a gun in his right hand, the but resting against the floor. A thick belt around his middle with several shapes visible. I could even see the gathered material of his trousers where they were tucked into his boots.

He was just standing there on the top step, leaning against the wall, looking down at his feet, looking extremely sad.
After a few seconds of me registering what I was seeing, he moved, saw me at the bottom of the steps and looked absolutely terrified. More so than I had been up to this point. I had still been trying to register what it was exactly that I was seeing.
But as soon as I saw his eyes wide with fear, looking right at me from beneath the visible rim of his helmet, I knew it was a ghost.

I was out of that building quicker than a rat up a drain pipe.
My friends found me outside eventually, but I didn't tell them what I'd seen, I just refused to ever go back in there again.

I guess he was a son of a previous owner who died in the war, maybe he missed being home?
I've tried to find out more about the place, and the history, but all I can find is the name of the place, and some data on the ownership of land hundreds of years before.
It's now been renovated and become part of a complex of new buildings.

Needless to say, it made me a believer, and since then I've had other experiences that support my opinion that ghosts do indeed exist. No other experiences are as dramatic, but I have seen another soldier on a site I once worked on that strangely wasn't built until the 70's/80's, but it was a secure military related one. And I've seen a woman on another site, several times in the kitchen just out the corner of my eye as I walked past.

Other times I can smell Channel No5 in my house, which is the perfume my mother used to wear when she was going out for a posh do.
And once, a colleague and I were discussing our mothers, their passing etc... and she was telling me a story about finding a missing photo of her mother while listening to a song she loved. Just at that moment, and I mean right at that second, my boss in another room turned up his radio and it was playing my mothers favourite song, one we played at her funeral, and one I hadn't heard anywhere for several years.

So, yes, I do believe, but only because of my own experiences. If I hadn't had that first encounter, I probably would still be very sceptical.



posted on Oct, 5 2009 @ 09:54 AM
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reply to post by detachedindividual
 


I have never seen anything, and not sure that I would want to. Wait! Take that back, saw a siamese cat once that wasn't there.



posted on Oct, 5 2009 @ 02:05 PM
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reply to post by detachedindividual
 


That sounds like a classic story right out of a movie! Old abandoned house next to a feild, rotting floors etc! Thanks for sharing.



posted on Oct, 5 2009 @ 02:28 PM
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reply to post by Wookiep
 


Hey! What about my Siamese cat story? Isn't that spooooooky?


We could have a ghost story thread in honor of Halloween and tell our spookiest moments...I certainly have some spooktacular tales (if i don't debunk myself).



posted on Oct, 7 2009 @ 09:25 AM
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This is an account of the best paranormal episode I ever had. I wrote it up as a regular story. Not that I ever tried to get it published or anything. Just to have it, and to remember it.

Here's an except, since this board doesn't let you post long entries...


Yeah, her 49th birthday had been brutal, and it felt good when she finally fell into bed and I could hear the familiar drone of her slumber, triggering that grateful wave of relief as I gathered myself to join her in sweet oblivion.

It was then that I heard it. At first, I thought it was the teenage son she shared with her ex-husband, tumbling in unannounced in the dead of night through the front door and into the end of the narrow hallway that ran the length of the condo we shared. I walked to the bedroom door and looked out into the darkened area, resigned to embrace whatever he’d brought to the occasion, only to discover the front door undisturbed – the hallway empty.

Actually, not entirely empty. Our Doberman had pushed herself as deep into the furthest corner of the hallway as possible, and I could faintly hear her whimpers as she seemed to be trying as hard as she could to be anywhere but where she’d been contained for the night. My attention was suddenly captured by what it was that had forced my guard dog into such a state of frightened deference, and had done so with a ferocity that is difficult to fully describe.

Sneaker on a basketball court; that’s as close as I can come to what launched into a frenzy, directly before me, as I stood in the doorway of the bedroom, and looked out into the open corridor. As usual, the floodlight in the alley poured through the kitchen window, so it wasn’t darkness that prevented me from seeing what was making such a commotion within that small area. It was a lack of anything to see, and as the sneakers darted back and forth in psychotic fervor, cutting into the bathroom opposite my own position, squeaking down the hall, racing back up again, jagging left and right, forward and then back again, the seconds gathered into a full minute without a rational explanation making an appearance either.

At 90 seconds or so, I called out to my sleeping birthday girl to wake up and share this amazing experience with me. After all, I’d never witnessed such a clear display of paranormal activity in my entire life. I was fascinated.

Again, I called out to her, afraid to move lest I break the moment that continued in fits before me.

Just then, it stopped, as if called back by her sudden grumbled curse concerning “4 o’clock in the friggin’ morning”. It was over. The spell was broken, never to be cast again in that hallway, or anywhere else in that house.


[edit on 7-10-2009 by NorEaster]



posted on Oct, 7 2009 @ 08:29 PM
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reply to post by A Fortiori
 


You should start one A Fortiori! Your cat story would be a good way to start that thread off!



posted on Oct, 7 2009 @ 09:16 PM
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reply to post by Wookiep
 


Actually, it was kinda scary. We lived in this terrible house. Not only did the neighborhood SUCK, but the house itself was creepsville. Everytime I would complain though I would get the old "its your imagination running away with you" line. I so wanted to believe it was my imagination because my imagination couldn't hurt me.

I could make a list of "incidents" in the house that I had to "debunk" lest I never sleep again, but one of the weirder ones was The Siamese Cat Incident.

So I am alone in the house, just got home from school, and I drop my books down and notice my cat out of the corner of my eye. She was a "greeter", so I turned to her and said: Come on, baby. And she ran from me. Anyone who has had a Siamese knows how they love their owners. You call, they are there. So I followed her into the dining room where she stops, looks behind her and then takes off from me again. Now, I'm worried she's killed something so I follow after her into the kitchen, and same story. She sees me, looks back and then runs around the corner like she's heading for the living room. So I run to catch up with her and she is not there. I was pretty perplexed cos there was no where to go from there. Then I heard her meowing from outside the front door and chills went all through my body, as I recalled the rather "unfriendly" look the cat had when I was following it.

I almost didn't want to open the front door!



posted on Oct, 7 2009 @ 09:38 PM
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reply to post by A Fortiori
 


lol, I'd say that qualifies for being a pretty spooky experience! thanks



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