Was I Dreaming? Journal Entry from 1/16/22
Two nights ago, I was sleeping and next thing you know I was having a nightmare. Clear as day, I could see Charles Manson. He was so angry. His face was right in my face, and his eyes squinted with all his rage while he tried squeezing my neck in his hands. It felt more real than a dream to me, like I was really being strangled. The next morning, I asked Morgen if it was just a coincidence that I dreamt Manson strangled me, or if he really was there in my dream. She said, “Yeah, he’s mad that you talk bout him?’
I said, “He can’t fuck with me. He knows we can push him in the light, right?”
Morgen got mad at me. “Well, you need to respect that he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s here.”
I told her, “No. This is my house. I’m being very cool that I don’t care that he’s here. Everyone else tells me to get rid of him, and honestly I don’t care if he’s here as long as he isn’t messing with us. I wasn’t even the one who said it was him! He was moving the door again, and Jason guessed it was him. I’m not being bullied by another ghost. If he touches me again he’s going in the light.” This made Morgen storm off. I’ll be damned if another spirit thinks they’re going to come around and torment us. 13 years was enough for me!
I had woken up a few weeks ago and saw a bearded man floating above the other side of my bed. He was sitting there and looked down at me peacefully. He appeared glowing green and see through, about in his early thirties. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that was Manson as well. He manifests younger, before the very recognizable forehead tattoo. I don’t understand why he moves things and messes with electronics if he doesn’t want attention. Seems contradictory to me.
I drew what Manson looks like these days. Prints are available for $10 on our website shop page.