I view things differently than most. Or, is it that I experience my reality in ways that others dare not explore? Many nights I sit motionless, remote in hand, and flip through one paranormal TV show after another. Ghosts, spirits, demons, poltergeists; these are terms used to give meaning to the unexplained.

My house, surrounded by a forest of tall trees, appears to exist on the peripheral of another dimension. I have no clue how this came to be, but I find myself so intrigued by the happenings that invade my space.

The people wander amid the trees, oblivious to my presence. I can walk through them without injury to them or myself. Although, I am sure they sense me as I cross through. I know I can feel their energy, sort of like static.

To me, calling them ghosts or spirits is insulting. They don’t move and act like humans who once lived on earth. In fact, on occasion, I can see the facial features of these beings. Believe me when I say they are not, nor were they ever, human. I wonder if they see me and think I am ignorant of them—perhaps. I think that many people misunderstand the concept of the words life and existence. There are many dimensions, galaxies, and planes of existence. Maybe, one day, I’ll make contact with my seemingly oblivious forest neighbors.


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