what happened when stranger neurons in your head met
transcendent moments of zen
I’m not a big rule person, but my drunken inspiration for this thread leads me to envision that we should try to keep our Deep Thoughts to a sentence or two and then expound as discussion builds on that topic.
Boy, I tellya, if ever there were an argument against the supernatural, it would be the cognitive dissonance raised by the concept of a spectral manifestation that could travel through solid walls, boo and moan and clank its chains, lower the temperature of rooms, write messages from beyond in blood and windowpane-frost, disrupt your sleep and emotionally scar your children and make your pets incontinent, but is utterly incapable of changing its shirt.
Only if I spend the afterlife getting my clothes dirty. That’s the zombies’ lookout, not the ghosts’. Spooks, spirits, spectres, ha’ants, wills-o-the-wisp, and other affiliated ghostly manifestations shouldn’t have to worry about unwanted interaction with filth from the physical plane, Though I understand that virtually nothing will get out the stain of ectoplasm.
The last of my childhood fears died out as I tried to imagine what thoughts might go through the head of the monster under your bed as it crouched there all day long, tentacles cramping up, as it waited impatiently for its prey to finish its goddamned bath and get into bed already.