Here in Ireland we call them the Sí (pronounced: SHE) and they're not all peace, love, and rainbows. They're known to play tricks on people either because they don't like you, you're a threat, or JUST BECAUSE WHATEVER. Their concept of right and wrong, good and evil etc is either completely alien or non-existent.
As of late, paranormal activity and synchronicity has been on steroids in my life - largely because I opened that door myself. So this following story isn't some isolated event, but to me is just straight up harassment by the Sí.
Today I was cycling along the promenade (big long avenue beside a beach) in my full hipster attire - dinner jacket and imitation straw trilby hat - in mild sunny weather. I had just finished a nice half pounder and had gotten my housemate a packet of digestive biscuits and on my way home to deliver them. Along the promenade I passed another housemate - one I wish never moved in. Beyond the middle-age mark, owner of a disabled cat that stinks up the house, Born Again Christian (of the nicer variety), and all round awkward Human Being who insists on being my friend. She was busking with her guitar, so I didn't say hello as I whizzed past. Thinking I've gotten away easily, about a yard away a breeze picks up my trilby (regular occurrence) and launches it several feet behind me. I turned around and watched as it slowly rolled down the promenade coming to a halt, then sharply veering off to the right and landing right in front of this woman's feet. To her credit she found this as funny and confusing as I did, but I had to hide my laughter for later. I made my way back to her as she reached down to pick it up, all the while a man passing by bent down and grabbed it before her, making the remark "That's an old trick."
I was doomed. I had to indulge her in at least one sentence of smalltalk, but I swiftly made my bullshit excuse of bringing my housemate his biscuits and immediately got the fuck out of there.
The skeptic, reductionist, Atheist, materialist, True Believer might dismiss my reading of this event, but before they take to their keyboards to save me from eternal damnation I'll say this: I couldn't give a crap. I can find a billion other random strangers on the Internet to tell me the same thing in exactly the same words. Heck, I even tell myself these things. it's just not novel or interesting. What is interesting is a cute little story on SteemIt. Consider it Gonzo Mysticism.
I implore all my SteemIt friends to share their anomalous experiences with me here. Join my dream sharing hashtag #DreamJournal or my waking-life #GonzoMysticism, which this is filed under.
Dia dhaoibh!
Image: WallpaperCraze.com
