White Orbs

I recall visiting the cemetery with my younger brother to pay our condolences to the dead. We took a few drinks (we always drink together), and spilled out a few slurps onto the hallowed ground to commemorate the deceased.

Our Stephen lost his best friend Callum just after I lost my dad and my brother. It’s said that the white cider killed him off. He was only in his early twenties. Since then our Ste has refrained from touching a drop of it. I’ve never been a fan myself, always opting for the powerful stimulants rather than Crack, Smack and Scrumpy Jacks.

I’d just like to say anyway that I witnessed thousands of tiny white orbs in the graveyard while we were there. They were floating in the sky, majestic and mesmeric against the backdrop of clear blue. I’d been seeing them often during that phase of my life but never quite so obvious as that time in the graveyard. I told myself it was the ghosts of everyone in the cemetery, but I can’t be sure. They definitely belong in the angelic realm, they’re captivating and entrancing. The way they move…they bob and weave and bounce and dart and shimmer and sparkle the way genuine orbs do. I learned to control them, to some degree, and when I did this I noticed that the very next day the planes started flying in pairs, almost within touching distance in the sky, as if scared to go it alone with My Orbs. Coincidence? You decide. My mind is already made up.

Just thought I’d put that out there. Another time I witnessed them they seemed to abound from the moon. It has to be daylight for them to show their hand, they can’t exist at night. They look like a gazillion pinpricks of sunshine, dancing around as if on a subatomic scale, utterly fascinating to watch.

The Devil (hate to mention him), almost convinced me that he’d stolen them from me, because their movement changed almost overnight. He lies a lot, doesn’t he?

I’ve been reading my bible today to help me defeat Him (I know, again). I’ve finally finished Isaiah, it’s taken me weeks to labour through it, and now I’m firmly motoring through Proverbs. Proverbs is easy to read compared to Isaiah, and it’s chock-full of inspirational advice and wisdom. Something to get my teeth into, you know?

I’m not counting the days but it is Day 36 in The Rarefied Atmosphere challenge. That’s 35 days of loneliness, because in Popsville the voices never shut up and I’m outnumbered for company, but soon after I’m left all alone again. I know a song called Toddespiel by the German band Heldmaschine; it has screams embedded within its soundtrack. In Popsville, those screams are apt. Popsville is the name for the mental state in my life which is governed by psychosis: The Rarefied Atmosphere is the opposite.

I sincerely hope that, whilst currently in the process of Being Rare, I can view My Orbs again in the not-too distant future. Amen to My Father, My Brother, and To Callum x