Ghosts and the paranormal.

Evening again. Two today! You lucky people. Did you like the bit of story? Let me know!

So this blog is about something my Gran and I were talking about earlier. It was in confidence but you don't know who my Gran is and she'll never know I'm talking about her. Unless you tell her. So, don't. Please? Thanks.

A few blogs ago, I mentioned that my Great Aunty Norma passed away. My Gran went to the funeral with my aunty and uncle and in the end, I didn't go. Neither did most of my family. My sister was expecting bambino #2, so it wasn't too convenient sadly.

I was with my Gran today and she was talking about after the funeral and how she got changed into her pyjamas and made herself a cup of tea and was just sitting and it was really the first time since the funeral that she'd had a chance to sit down and she started crying, as I think she would because she's just had to say goodbye to her little sister. When she was sitting, crying she said aloud "I wish there was some way you could show me you're with me". At that moment, a little teddy that she had bought my Gran, which sat quite securely by the television, toppled over very slowly and at that moment, she felt instantly comforted. I don't know about you, but that story gave me a chill.

Another instance that I heard of was about 7 years ago, when a girl in my English class passed away quite suddenly and unexpectedly. Her death hit the school quite hard and nobody could quite believe it. Even 7 years down the line, I still think of her. We weren't friends, but we didn't dislike each other, it was just what it was. I was quite good friends with her best friend and she let me read an essay she wrote about her and it was an instance similar to the one above. My friend had gone to her funeral and, in her room, even before she died, was a framed picture of the 2 of them with another friend which had always stood fairly securely. When she returned home, the photo was face down on the shelf.

Things like what I've described just lead me to believe that we are never alone and the people who truly touch our lives, are never gone.

What do you all think? Is there some truth to be found in the supernatural or the "after-life"?

Paul xx

Anybody want a sampler of my writing?

I couldn't think of anything witty and informative to write about so who wants a chunk of writing from an up and coming story called "The Consequences of Envy"? Your thoughts, honest preferably, are most welcome. Constructive criticism will be taken, but I will not accept "it's just shite" as criticism.

Enjoy.

The work below is the intellectual property of Paul Copland and should not be copied, imitated or reproduced under ANY circumstances.

Katherina Bartolozzi stepped out of the chauffeur driven vehicle. With an air all too common of people in her profession, she surveyed the surroundings and surmised that she should tolerate this dreadful town because it was necessary.

In the distance, great chimneys spewed plumes of smoke and ash and their stench hung in the air like some unwanted caller; all too apparent and not at all welcome.

She looked up at the brick nightmare which stood in front of her.

This is my home from now on, she mused.

The "Burnside Palladium" in no way, shape or form lived up to the grandeur of its title. Its pale brickwork faded easily into the depression of the surrounding buildings and didn't offer any optimism for this latest venture into the complex world of opera. But, the contract was signed, the deal agreed and she realised that obligations must be honored, regardless of status, if she was to work again.

As she turned around to tip the driver, she heard a shuffling of footsteps and a younger man sidled towards her, his hair thinning and his cheeks, flushed. He offered his hand to Katherina.

"Good afternoon, ma'am! What a pleasure it is to receive you at the Burnside Palladium!" beamed the young man.

"Ahhh, you must be the man responsible for my bags until we get to the hotel." Not taking a second thought, she made her way towards the glass panelled doors of the theatre.

"Oh, no no no no ma'am, you are mistaken! I am Peter Crandall and I am the general manager of the Burnside Palladium!" he flourished, clearly very proud of his title. Whether the title was newly bestowed was anyone's guess. "I PERSONALLY requested that our director consider you for the role of Mimi in 'La Boheme'!"

"I see! Well Monsieur Crandall," she said with almost sickening affectation "I do thank you kindly for your considering me suitable for the role, a role which I have performed on more than one occasion for some of the FINEST opera companies across Europe. I'm sure this occasion will be just as well produced as the other three were." Katherina turned on her heel and made her way through the glass doors with a flourish.

The interior of the foyer in no way matched the outward exterior.

She was greeted with a sumptuous feast of rich reds and gold finishings. Above her head hung a beautiful, golden chandelier. For the first time this afternoon, she was duly impressed at the magnificent grandeur she was accustomed to.

© Paul Copland. 2011

You like?

Paul xx

Fancied doing a blog tonight

I think it's gonna be a general ramble which will, of course, blossom into a full fledged moan.

So I went for that audition. Fail. Enough said. Still, it's another experience with other people.

At this point in time, I feel like I have 2 main gripes on my mind; weight and unemployment.

I'll go with weight first.

Tonight, my mum, dad, brother and I visited my sister in Leuchars because her husband was working back-shift or something. I didn't pay attention to the details that much but it's not important. It's on the way back I'm thinking of. It's become a daily occurrence for my mum to have a go at me about my weight and, all the better when my dad's there, because he pipes in about his heart problems which are a genuine concern obviously. Apparently heart problems are hereditary so I've got that to look forward to. But he's like "Oh I was never your weight! You'll be lucky if you see 50!" which is something everyone wants to hear from their father. So that's a concern.

Then my mum came out with something which seemed to cap her ranting. She was like "OH I CAN'T STAND WATCHING YOU KILL YOURSELF!" Never has she uttered something so strong at me, ever. So I was a wee bit taken aback. But my natural response is to bat back with something unfunny and out of time and inappropriate. I said "it's not like I'm addicted to heroin! I would understand your concern if that were truly the case." So I was fairly taken aback. The thing is, I don't see how I keep gaining weight. I really don't. Boredom is a source of a lot of my calories just now, so I could certainly see the logic. But I don't think I'm killing myself. Am I?

Who knows. All I know is I'm too wound up to talk about unemployment now. So, I'll enjoy the rest of Glee then look forward to Eastenders on BBC3 at 10pm.

Au revoir, mes enfants!

Paul xx