A single gray balloon was how the anomaly first successfully both greeted me and transfixed my attention. It was late September, and the bleeding analog digits on the clock on the nightstand seemed to read 11:30. I was supposed to be asleep by now. I had been asleep a few moments ago, but that moment had already long since expired since I’d come to the realization that something had disturbed the peace here. The room was dark: stars in the sky were hidden by the drawn window shade, and the golden beacon from the crack under the door had been snuffed in the hallway quite a while ago. Everything was still. Everything was calm. Everything was as it should be except for a single gray balloon that was dragging itself in the air back and forth before my eyes. Had it not been for the clock at my side I may not have been able to see it, but the bleary glow managed to cast enough of a filmy red into the abyss that I could make out this balloon and how it bobbed, dragged, and changed directions before my very sleepy eyes. This must have been a really weird dream, a very unique dream—or some sort of important moment of some other nature. There was nobody here but me though: no monsters under the bed, nothing in the closet, no mysterious hand holding that string to drag it, but I was frozen all the same from my spot, a young girl of six, watching this event take place with a half-woken and fear-baited mind.
An abundance of years passed and I can shrug this unexplained event off as to having more to do with static energy. See, I reason to myself, when I rub a balloon against my head and place it on the wall I find that it will generally stay there until gravity takes its toll and pulls it down to the ground. Sometimes it’ll roam along the wall, but eventually it’ll come down. I reckon that somehow the balloon must have attracted an abundance of static energy and roamed along the ceiling. I can’t figure out why it would have changed directions or gone different velocities, but for all I know it was tracing energy-leaking wires from the overhead light. There are some things in life that we just will never know, and that’s okay. Sometimes we try to explain away those things using fantasy and sometimes those things encourage us to find science-based logic for their existence. I tend toward science rather than fantasy, but recognizing that you don't have all the answers means that you recognize not knowing which are plausible. While I believe that this balloon event can be explained with down-to-Earth science, I also believe in the possibility that it could have been something that our measure of science has not yet adequately explained.
I do believe in ghosts, but I don’t believe they’re what other people think they are. If I ask someone what a ghost is I get a weird stare and some sort of half-baked explanation such as: “Someone who didn’t go to heaven; a lost soul,” or something along those lines. The closest explanation I’ve ever received that resembles common sense has compared them to a “spirit” or “lingering energy.” You see: to believe that a ghost is at all aware also demands the belief that you can thrive outside of your body. It supports the invasion-of-the-body-snatchers idea that we are all celestial beings that are trapped in these animatronic vessels. This is a laughable, untrue claim, and in my opinion muddies our real-world understanding of what ghosts are. If they cannot be spiritual, then they must be something carnal. If they are to exist then ghosts must in their simplest essence be nothing more than raw energy itself. You may be wondering how I can consider ‘energy’ to be something ‘carnal.’ I’ll tell you: it’s science!
Just in case it’s been a while since you’ve taken physics, I’ll remind you that all matter in the universe is energy. Energy is matter, which is a dense collection of electrons, protons, and neurons. Matter is not celestial, matter is the physical nature of existence: the carnal. Ghosts then, from this Satanist’s perspective, being nothing more than a static discharge of energy, (Like a developing photograph, echo of sound, or dying star seen from lightyears away) are highly likely to exist.
Some Satanists already believe in the concept of separating oneself from a type of energy. Although not required as a part of the faith by any stretch, Satanists have the option of participating in cathartic Greater (Aka “Ritual”) Magic. It’s described as a psychodrama—that is, it’s a show that we put on for ourselves that can conjure a specific natural energy within us. We conjure as much of it as we possibly can and then we release it into the universe to absolve ourselves of the affliction of housing too much of it in our bodies, our minds, and maybe our dispositions. My perspective is that when we’re going through this great upheaval of emotional energy we are conjuring an actual bioelectrical energy within us that hasn’t yet been studied. It’s science, not mysticism. It’s the difference between having that taught teeth-fracturing stress in your jaw and snoring with a slackened one. Energy gone and discharged, we see an improvement in the balance of our own happiness and are able to relish in the misery/prosperity of the ritual’s target while enjoying a stress-free existence post-psychodrama.
To believe in this focused and intentional discharge of energy toward the named, “To Be,” lends a hand toward the belief that we can shed energy when we expire since it’s a moment of “Letting go” of life itself. It is a fact, not an opinion that energy is drawn to itself. There are certain latitudes on this planet that have an ‘unnatural’ frequency of energy or magnetism about them. Some individuals (clairvoyants) claim that they can see what can’t be seen and feel what isn’t felt by others. Sometimes our eyes create strange yet familiar figures when we try to identify something foreign and sometimes our ears hear things incorrectly for the same reason. Sometimes energy creates a magnetism that draws, and sometimes what it draws can be a single gray balloon in a bedroom. I don’t know for sure why that balloon was doing what it was doing that day: I was only six. I’m comfortable with not knowing, but not knowing means I can’t completely deny any possibility—so long as that possibility is based in science.
Who is the Witch?
Once I called myself a Christian, then an atheist, and a Satanist. At the end of the day, I'm just a person who is living her truth one day at a time. I'm interested in religion, its effects on the mind, the occult, and more. Learn more about me on the about page.