Echoes in a Hollow Space

Hellier, the Planet Weird original YouTube series: Mothman Prophecies meets Deliverance meets Carl Jung meets Finding Bigfoot. This is more of a philosophical paranormal series so if you’re looking for the brainless demon chasing of Ghost Adventures, this will not be the show for you.

I liked it, binged it yesterday. I started watching in broad daylight, just to be safe and to make sure I could sleep comfortably. (Huh.) There definitely were some creepy parts, but this is more a show about curiosity and exploration of the subterranean realms of the human psyche and the world-beneath-the-skin of this world. And synchronicity. A whole lotta synchronicity. (I watched the last two episodes in full dark and my sleep cycle was not disturbed.)

If you’ve ever been caught up in a synchronicity storm, as explored in this show, you’ll find Hellier more credible. Even if you haven’t, it’s a fascinating piece of filmmaking. Despite my casual linkage above to other things, it’s also a unique piece of filmmaking, as passion projects often are.

So, if you’re in the mood for something to expand your mind and your horizons rather than the idiotic pap of most paranormal shows, you might like Hellier.

I was once close friends with a paranormal researcher. I never went on any of his investigations with him—mostly because he lived 2,000 miles away—but he would discuss his cases in detail with me. I was a sympathetic and avid ear, frankly. Much younger and with my youthful sense of invulnerability still flapping around the edges of my psyche, I took a deep dive into the subject. Then weird synchronous shit began happening to me. Nothing as weird as the things that happened to him, nothing horrifically spooky, just fricking weird. But as I wasn’t even directly involved in his cases, it did rather freak me out.

“Oh yeah, that kind of thing goes on all the time,” he said. “It’s mostly harmless if you don’t give it energy.”

Which was not reassuring. It harkened back to something a witchy woman said to me when I was thirteen and another batch of synchronous shit started happening to me. “It can’t hurt you if you don’t let it.” I backed away from it then, shut it down with extreme prejudice, and the things stopped happening.

When it happened again in conjunction with my friend, I told it very firmly to go away and leave me alone, and it did. I’m sorry, I am not profoundly courageous when it comes to these things. I prefer to channel it into art, if you must know. Art is a buffer zone between the realm of the trickster—where this stuff stops and ends, in my opinion—and about as much as I can handle, in those days and in these.

Weird things continued to happen to me, but rarely with the sense of something focusing on me that happens in the middle of a synchronicity storm. That attention is what keeps me from sleeping at night. I continued to be friends with my paranormal researcher for some time after that, but eventually we drifted apart for reasons that had nothing to do with synchronicity or paranormal research or the trickster. (Or did they?) I still think fondly of him and those discussions because it expanded my mind and my psychic horizons.

Even if I was too much of a wimp to fully commit. I’m happy with my decision. And, really, I think “it” is, too.

Mirrored from Better Than Dead.

A cloudy gray day down near the beach, temperatures in the sixties.

At the corner of Pacific and Main a girl with dark hair piled atop her head, in a loose halter top and skintight yoga pants, jogs in place waiting for the light to change. Her boobs bounce boobily. The second the light changes, she shoots across the intersection. A car waiting to make a left turns in front of her. She indignantly pounds on the cab as he passes. He doesn’t notice, keeps on going, and so does she, bouncing across the street while those who had been on the corner with her follow at a more leisurely pace.

Just as the pedestrian light starts to blink red, a ragged man in cammo jacket, shorts, bare feet, and humping a backpack steps into the crosswalk and limps slowly across. About halfway the light changes and he picks up the pace of his limping, waving at those of us in the cars not to run him down. We wait until he makes it to the curb and go on our way.

At the corner of Bay and Main, a portly middle-aged man in T-shirt and shorts strides into the crosswalk from Dogtown Coffee. He balances two large coffees on top of one another, a cigarette stuck between his fingers levitating above their lids.

At Vicente Terrace, a girl hastens purposefully up the street carrying a large yellow plastic bag, three giant poster boards under her arm festooned with lettering and sparkles while Elbow sings, “It’s all gonna be magnificent, she says…”

Just another Thursday morning, ordinary but unique, ephemeral, gone forevermore.

17 Mar
It’s been a weekend of Dealing With Shit.  I am tired of dealing with shit. But I don’t have any choice. Privilege!

19 Mar
Tom Cruise is thinking of despoiling another classic 60s TV show: U.N.C.L.E.  Nooooooooo!!

I’ve pretty much resigned myself to turds like Cruise ruining my childhood memories.

20 Mar
She wore black tights and knee-high boots, a lavishly ruffled green blouse, walking her little white dog as if heading down a fashion runway.

20 Mar
Surprisingly, my Lotto ticket does not have winning numbers. One more chance tonight. I bet this time I’ll win big

21 Mar
I’m not sure if I’m ashamed I know about this or not. It certainly is hilarious, and possibly (probably) TMI: http://bit.ly/YIPmJU 

22 Mar
PETA kills 90% of all animals taken to their shelter: http://bit.ly/Xvr070 

22 Mar
I’m finding it highly ironic that I just put a “Freedom” stamp on the payment I’m mailing off to the Tax Board.

22 Mar
Writing tip: Chances are, anything that can be labeled hip is not unique. Know what true uniqueness is before you attach that label to yourself.

25 Mar
Tell the L.A. Times ownership: “No Sale to the Koch Brothers!” http://signon.org/s/T39u6o 

25 Mar
Girls who define themselves by who they’re dating creep me the hell out. Talk about the Zombie Apocalypse!

26 Mar
Forms, forms, and more forms. The gubmint’s appetite for them is endless.

26 Mar
Dear upscale boutique: having a sign outside your store with script so fancy it can’t be easily read negates having a sign outside your store.

27 Mar
There are days when I could start screaming and never stop till my voice gave out. Fortunately for those around me I’ve maintained control.

27 Mar
Ironic outsourcing facts: The address for the Los Angeles Fire Department EMS billing is in Wheat Ridge, Colorado.

27 Mar
Mom home from rehab on Friday. Thus follows days characterized by alternating moments of terror and relief.

3 Apr
I wouldn’t say I’m frazzled, but I just had a moment of panic about missing a meeting this morning…that I actually attended.

3 Apr
My phone conversations with my mother would make great comedy routines—if they weren’t so desperately frustrating to endure.

Who’s on first? That’s right.

8 Apr
Mom turned 92 yesterday and everyone wanted to give her little parties. The Happy Birthday phone calls began at 7 a.m., but she enjoyed herself a lot.

 That’s all that really matters.

8 Apr
I began my “weekend” in the wee hours of Friday morning with a nasty bout of food poisoning, but the weekend ended well enough, Sunday being Mom’s birthday. We took her out to dinner at Billingsley’s—an old-fashioned (70s décor) steakhouse. It was great and she really enjoyed it.

8 Apr
I had a long, happy dream last night about having enough time and energy to have a creative life again.

9 Apr
I think Peter Dinklage should be People’s Sexiest Man Alive.  Dead serious there.

9 Apr
Nothing in life is quite so good as sleeping in your own bed.  And yes, that includes sex and porterhouse steak.

9 Apr
She was always a slamming great cook; it’s a big point of pride to still cook, though it’s not always what it once was. Wouldn’t dream of saying anything to hurt her feelings. Just shut up and eat. Which is emblematic of my entire life, now that I think about it.

10 Apr
Back at the ER.

11 Apr
Mom’s chest pains turned out not to be a heart attack. A day of testing in the hospital. She’ll be released today. Update when I know more.

p.s. My cat is sick. I’ll try to work the vet in.

Finding time to get the cat to the vet while not knowing precisely when to pick up Mom…special.

11 Apr
Found a new use for my portable Bluetooth speaker: sitting it on the counter while I take a shower and waiting for the doctor(s) to call.

11 Apr
A strained muscle in Mom’s chest so that when she took a deep breath it hurt.  On our way home.

And Min is feeling much better tonight, too.

15 Apr
I spent an ungodly amount of money at the vet this weekend. Min is okay. I don’t feel the money was wasted. I love my baby.

She was harassing me at 4 a.m. to get my slothful butt up and feed her so I’d say she’s back to her old self.

16 Apr
I was busy all day at work then there was a screw up at the dialysis clinic and Mom got hooked up late. We didn’t get home until 8 p.m. so I heard about Boston plenty, but in bits and pieces. I wasn’t flooded with it all day. This morning there were police cars out in front of the building when I got to work. Just parked, hanging out. We’re a soft but unlikely target. Still, I don’t imagine the poor people watching a venerable race in Boston imagined themselves to be targets, either. Godspeed, Boston. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

16 Apr
I feel like the mother of a toddler: my purse is full of snacks and things to entertain the one I care for.

16 Apr
Mom saw a TV ad for the larger Kindle Fire HD and said, “It sure would be nice to have one of those larger ones. Too bad my birthday’s past.” What I thought but didn’t say was “Mother’s Day is coming up.” Mom probably was thinking but not saying the same thing. She may be old, but she’s still sly, and doesn’t hesitate to ask for stuff she wants. Life’s is way the hell too short.

16 Apr
Min has the beginnings of kidney issues. Nothing life threatening right now, but we’ll get her tested every 6 months or so. Kidneys!

Mirrored from Better Than Dead.

Random quote of the day:

“The gift you carry for others is not an attempt to save the world but to fully belong to it. It’s not possible to save the world by trying to save it. You need to find what is genuinely yours to offer the world before you can make it a better place. Discovering your unique gift to bring to your community is your greatest opportunity and challenge. The offering of that gift—your true self—is the most you can do to love and serve the world. And it is all the world needs.”

—Bill Plotkin, Soulcraft

Disclaimer:  The views expressed in this random quote of the day do not necessarily reflect the views of the poster, her immediate family, Siegfried and Roy, Leonard Maltin, or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. They do, however, sometimes reflect the views of the Cottingley Fairies.

Mirrored from Better Than Dead.