It were days of summer. The Sun was bright and its light was spreading all over the street. Being a jobless in those summer days, I had nothing substantial to do. I was living in city all alone, surviving on money sent by my father from far away home. My room was near a Nullah in outskirt of city . It was a dark room, deprived of sunlight even in scorching sun. I hated my room immensely. Part of the reason was its bad smell. It was impossible to pass day in claustrophobic situation. In these circumstances, my only respite was a park facing over my balcony. I would pass my days sitting in park, looking children playing clamorously. It was not boring as it seems in one look now. I had some books to accompany myself. I would sit on one of two benches of park and engross myself in reading, occasionally overlooking towards children. I was not alone in that park who would pass his day in park. I would often see a lady sitting next to my bench. She was not very fair but something in her deep eyes would force me to look towards her. She was short in stature yet her charm was something that could make any heart loss her beat. She had a blue gown over her body and two clips in her hair making her a sort of teenage girl. Her appearance seemed as she belonged to an affluent family. She would come to the park daily and would look towards playing children until they had gone to their home. I was certain that she must be related to these children. Her lost gesture and slow movement would make me restless and bemused as the same time. But I never dared to ask about her misery. Her mystique eyes always threw a static glance at those children.

Everyday I would come to that park and sat there for long. One day I made a mistake. It was not deliberate as my bench, where I would often sit, was occupied by some other old age men. I had no other option but to sit in another bench. It was same on which that mystique girl would sit. I had a strange feeling while I placed my books on bench. I thought she must be annoyed when she would see me sitting on her bench. But as time passed I again lost in my books, unaware of world around me. As bright afternoon approached, I sensed someone was standing near my bench. I looked up with an escaping gesture. She was there wearing a white Salwaar-kurta embroidered with twinkling star-shaped glasses. She had covered her face with a red Duppatta. She was looking at me. Her sharp glance was piercing through my body. I hesitated for sometime. A sudden smile came on my face as I started arranging my books randomly scattered on bench. I was also expecting a smile from her as a return to my smile. But her face was static as ever, no expression shown on her face. She was not more than an arm’s length away from me. I could easily feel her breathing. She was panting heavily as though she was in hurry to sit on that bench. “It is always hard to talk an unresponsive person” I thought. I controlled myself and placed all my book at one side on bench. Now bench had enough space to her sit down. She was still standing and looking at me. It was enough to frighten me ” What does she really want?” I thought. I was looking for an excuse to engage with me. Meanwhile my fear came down as she stepped up and occupied a corner of bench. Now I could see her hand, soft and unwrinkled. I could see her face clearly. Her eyebrows were cleverly set. Her lips seemed to me like a petal of red rose. Her gray-reddish hair were interrupting her view occasionally. She was looking at children. A sweet smell was coming from her. My eyes were into my book but mind was wandering. I was thinking about her unusual behavior of looking at these child nervously. I wanted to ask her but could not collect enough courage to utter a word. I could not believe how quickly two hours passed. She was leaving the park behind those children. She didn’t say a word in that two hours. I could see her leaving park with heavy steps. My heart was beating on its extreme. I felt a deep desire to call her back but my cowardice came between our way. I kept looking at her until her shadow faded away from my sight. Now I could see no one was there in park. But strangely solitude didn’t sweep me . Her glowing face and those two hours passed with her, were with me. I got up and started strolling to my room. That day changed me totally. I could feel a kind of empowerment in me. Now I would go park very early and wait for her. I could feel a certain belonging to her. It was quite futile to concentrate for me in book till she was in park, sitting next to my bench. Her dresses could change daily but her mystique look never changed. Now could know one or two things about her. I asked to those children if she was their relative. Even they didn’t know much about her. She was from Alaknanda society and had lost her father in an accident. She was still out of memories she shared with her father in that park. Her father would come with her daily in this park when she was a little child. This was the reason she would coming daily to that park only to look at children like a spectator. She could see herself in those playing children. She had an illusion that her father was still alive and she was among those child playing and singing . She was going to leave this town in a month as her mother did not want to live in town anymore. She wanted to utilize her remained time in that town. Her only desire was to pass her time with her father, might be in delusion.

Finally the day came, I could not see her in park. It was a doomsday for me. She had left for another town with her mother. On that particular day, She had not arrived in park until evening. The Bench, next to me, was empty. I was feeling a void, an unfulfilled desire, an emptiness. She was not there but still I could feel her presence on a corner of the bench. I could still see her bright face, her soft and unwrinkled hands, her Salwaar- kurta embroidered with twinkling glasses but she was not there.

by Lisa Decandia

Been there, done that, got the t-shirt-the story of my life, I thought as I looked in the back seat at my youngest daughter. I exhaled and chuckled, it was better than the alternative.

I had been driving all day, taking my oldest daughter to work, dropping the puppy at the vet's office, and transporting the neighbor kids to and from school. My youngest had asked to ride along and all I wanted was little peace and quiet.

Was that to much to ask? From the moment we got in the car she started to talk about her computer game, her friends at church, the dream she had the night before...On and on she went. I just blocked my ears until her voice was a distant hum in my head, replying, "Uh huh," every now and then to reassure her that I was listening.

A noise in the back caught my attention and I glanced in the rear view mirror. My daughter's smile covered her entire face. I exhaled, chuckled, and tuned back in to hear her saying, "So I just shouted at him why are you staring at me? For no reason I did this and when my teacher looked at me I gave him a wicked smile and nodded. He just turned around shaking his head mom. I think he felt sorry for the boy. Oh well, everyone knows how I like to stir things up when I'm bored. I'm just glad someone gave me a chance."

The alternative...Deja vu...me being twelve, riding in the back of the family car and trying to talk to my parents about my day only I knew they weren't listening. Deja vu is often my opportunity for change. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt...I think not, more like, been there, doing something different, I need a new t-shirt.

http://www.helium.com/items/316922-short-stories-deja-vu

by Trevor Haworth

On the day after the great fable, the Sun rose as usual. She was beaming with conceited pride, and making sure that everybody knew of her victory. The North Wind had spent the night growling and battering away in useless fury, and was quite blown out by the morning. Again a traveller was passing by, and the Sun eagerly made another wager.

"I bet that this man will give in to my persuasion as easily as the last" she boasted. "Humph", grunted the North Wind. "OK, but you go first this time, and I will watch"

The second traveller proved to be quite a different sort of man though. He was a merchant returning from a successful business trip and in a hurry to get to the bank. He was indifferent to the beautiful day that the Sun was providing. His wallet was fat with profit, and hidden deeply in his coat. He had no intention of allowing it get further away from his greedy heart than was necessary. He pressed on with his journey regardless of the heat. By late afternoon, the gentle West Wind had blown up a few clouds. With all the moisture and hot air, the sky became overcast. Thunder rolled in the distance, and the Sun was forced to concede that her persuasion had failed. "Very well" she said to the North Wind, "but you will do no better, you windbag!"

The North Wind had rested and was ready to try again. He had learned from his mistake and did not blow at full strength immediately. He bided his time until the traveller reached a narrow footbridge across a wide river. The bridge was weak, and in need of repair. At just the right time, the North Wind blew with all his might and the bridge collapsed. The man fell into the river and was in serious trouble. He was a poor swimmer and the current was powerful. His coat filled with water and he had no choice but to abandon it or be dragged under. In terror for his life, he completely forgot about his wallet, and it was lost with his coat. The North Wind was blowing like a hurricane and the man was swept helplessly along at a great speed.

Soon he had lost most of his clothes. Some were torn off by brambles along the riverbank, and others discarded in his desperation to stay afloat. The river reached the sea and the North Wind could see that he had won. It would not have suited him to kill the traveller, so he quickly abated. The gentle West Wind pushed him towards a sandbank. He staggered ashore wearing just one sock and a rather dirty pair of underpants. Making for the nearest Inn, bedraggled and with no money, he looked a pathetic figure. Luckily the Innkeeper recognised him, and gave him food, shelter and some spare clothes to finish his journey. The Innkeeper knew that the traveller was wealthy, and that he would be rewarded eventually.

By now it was early evening, so with one final effort the North Wind blew away the clouds so that everyone could see the Sun. Crimson with embarrassment she could not sink into the horizon quickly enough.

And the morals of the story ?

- Pride goes before a fall
- Persuasion and force both have their uses
- Learn from your mistakes
- Be patient, and bide your time
- When you have won, stop fighting

http://www.helium.com/items/327362-short-stories-deja-vu

by Lupine

Have you ever had a dream about something and then the dream was real? Back in 1987 my friends and I went on a trip to California. On the last night of the trip we went out to celebrate and all got a bit loaded.

That night I dreamed about sitting across from a dark haired beautiful woman. She was sitting directly across from me, but it didn't really make any sense because she was also sitting lower than me and it seemed like it was in an airport.

I told my friends about it and they just laughed, said I'd probably meet her in the bar at the airport while we were waiting for our plane.

We did go to the bar to have a drink while we were waiting for our plane, but no girl, let alone a beautiful brunette, sat anywhere near me. So we boarded the plane and I just chalked up the dream to a few too many beers that night.

One of my friends is 6'7" and he always requests a seat up front so he can have more room to stretch his legs during the flight. So he and I sat on one side of the plane in the two front seats on one side directly behind the first class seats. The stewardesses went through their routine drills as we got ready to take off and I was getting ready to nap as soon as we were in the air.

The pilot came on and told the stewardess's to take their seats and then it happened. One of the stewardess's came over near me and turned a little knob in the wall directly in front of me. Presto! A little fold down seat popped down from the wall and she sat down and buckled herself into it. She was beautiful and she was brunette and she was the woman I had seen the previous night in my dream.

She sat down directly in front of me and she was seated lower than me. My tall friend just looked at me and her and said "Holy shit!" My other friends looked over and their eyes also popped out of their heads. The stewardess said hi and we said hello and had a nice little chat, but I didn't tell her about my dream.

When we were in the air, she got up and and went about her business and I was left wondering about the mystery of life.

http://www.helium.com/items/325185-short-stories-deja-vu

by John Acosta

Einstein at the end of his life was trying to prove that time was an illusion. He believed that everything was happening at the same time, past, present and future. So, if he is correct, there are other dimensions, I think he said about 11 of them. Meaning there is a possibility that there are 11 of you spread out in different dimensions living at the same time.

Which brings me to the topic of this blog. A theory I have about Deja vu or Deja vecu. Deja vu is explained in Wikipedia as an "experience of feeling that one has witnessed or experienced a new situation previously" Where as Deja vecu is described as an "experience involving more than just sight, which is why labeling such "dj vu" is usually inaccurate. The sense involves a great amount of detail, sensing that everything is just as it was before."

If Einstein was correct, then maybe deja vu or deja vecu is the present you meeting or connecting to a you in another dimension. When this happens, our thoughts of the past or future becomes one with the present and a higher knowledge is achieved. The only problem is this only happens once in a blue moon and it doesn't last very long. Also, we cannot call upon deja vu at will so using this to our advantage is almost impossible.

Now, lets just think outside of the box, lets see how far you guys can go. If there was a way to connect to our other selves, is it possible that we could jump or travel back and forth in time or dimensions? Could this be the fountain of youth? Or just science fiction?

They say we use a small amount of our brain maybe its the dormant part of it we need to accomplish this. The Mayan calendar ends on Dec. 21, 2012. Its supposed to be the end of the world. The Mayans believe that the human race as a whole will evolve, physically, mentally and spiritually. Maybe this would help us on our quest for the fountain of youth and many other mysteries.

Well, I know for most of you you probably have a headache by now. For those who don't, I would love to hear your thoughts. Myspace is usually for promoting and dating and all that teenage stuff but I would like to have some intelligent conversations once in awhile.

So thanks for your time,
CZAR

http://www.helium.com/items/329534-short-stories-deja-vu

by Jon Coe

When I saw your face, I knew that something was going to change. I was afraid of approaching you because I have never seen you before, but, you looked familiar to me.

I hated to walk right up and say something like, "Haven't I seen you somewhere before"? It would have been so Corney!

But somewhere in my memory, and I don't know where, you existed and I needed to find out.

I wasn't on medicated nor was I in need of medication! I was just drinking a coke, in a bar on a Friday evening. I was a responsible person, with a car!

Some friends of mine arrived from the office. They offered to by me a drink, but I turned it down. They tried talking to me, but I couldn't help but look at you, from across the bar room. I just knew that I had seen you somewhere before!

My friend Peter started asking me some dumb questions. I tuned him out. He was on his first drink and it transformed this quiet person into a talkative jabber box. He must have talked at me for about fifteen minutes before he started getting upset.

He finished his drink and ordered another one. He took a sip and caught a hold of my arm, "What's the matter with you"!? He shouted.

It alarmed me and pulled me out of my trance. "Nothing"! I relied.

As he pulled my arm, he knocked over my glass of coke and it went smashing to the ground. Before I could look at him or the broken glass, it all started to happen!

The person, the young lady that had captured my attention, was walking across the bar room. Some of the glass, hit her in the leg! She swung around in surprise and I guess pain, and looked at me.

Suddenly, the whole scene played out in an opposite way. She stopped, the glass did not hurt or scratch he leg. She turned to me and said, "Haven't I seen you somewhere before"?

I was taken back. My thoughts were jammed, my tongue was tied! I did not know what to say!

I looked at her and I looked into her deep brown eyes. I felt as if this whole situation had happened before. I even could remember what I was going to say next, and I said it. "So, do you get hit in the leg often from strangers, with flying particles of glass"?

She laughed, as I knew she would, and said, "No, I just haven't been hit in the leg with flying glass from someone that I know"! She bit her lip and looked away.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing! I couldn't believe that I was hearing and seeing something that I was living. Everything in life is either, just in the past or here and now, but this seemed a little bit, just in the future to me. What ever she said, I knew what she was going to say! Everything I said, just came out of my mouth, just before, I knew what I was gong to say!

I asked if she was okay. She replied with a nod, as she brushed the coke off of her leg. The strange thing was, that she turned to me and said, "I'm just going to powder my nose, Tim, and I'll be right back"!

And, I said to her, "okay, Angela, see you in a few minutes"!

The most amazing part about this, was that neither one of us knew each other's names and what was even more incredible, is, that my name is Tim!

As I watched Angela? Walk away, I saw a vision in my mind's eye. I saw a Baseball team! The bases were loaded and a pitch was being made! I could see that the batter was hitting the ball and the ball was hit to first base! The batter started to run, and as he did, he slipped and fractured his ankle! I turned to Peter and without thinking, I said, "Shame about the Red Sock's batsman"! Peter looked at me. "What are you talking about"?

Everybody in the bar started making a strange noise. We looked up and there on the Television screen, a batsman was running to first base and he fell. The game stopped. The Boston Red Socks were playing. I hadn't noticed. Angela returned. She looked at me and said, "You knew my name"?

Everything became like a replay. I looked at this beautiful young lady, she looked at me. She asked, What's going on with the fractured ankle"?

I looked at her and said, "Oh, is there a TV screen in the lady's bathroom"?

"No"! She replied.

"Let's get out of here"! I demanded.

"Yes, this Deja vu stuff is getting too weird"! She said, getting her coat.

by Allen Teal

I've never been much of one to buy into the idea of a past life or extrasensory perception. Moments of deja vu have always been written off as a quirk of memory. This was a day when change was in the air. I had just finished my usual breakfast of bacon and eggs with a side of grits.

The day was off to a flying start, and I was ready for work. I walked out of the restaurant, and for just a second, it seemed too familiar.

The cars on the street and sounds in the air were more than vaguely similar to something I had experience before.

Setting it aside as a coincidence, I ambled down the sidewalk to the car dealership where I sold used cars. A green Chevy was pulling onto the lot with a rather strange looking driver. I stopped to watch the scene unfold as he stepped from his car and walked angrily toward the building. I knew that car. It had been on the lot for months and no one could believe when it sold. The car had a bad color, didn't run to well, and was needing some body work.

As I neared the office, I could hear screaming and shouting coming from within. The glass and brick muffled the sound enough that I couldn't make out the words. Another unhappy customer was venting on the owner or his salesperson. Choosing not to go inside right now, I lurked in a shadow just down the sidewalk.

The door flew open and the customer ran to the car. I heard his tires squealing as he left the lot and entered the street. Stepping inside, I wasn't ready for the scene that awaited me. People were crying and sobbing but no one seemed hurt. The owner was pacing the floor saying something about how he should never have sold that car.

Stopping him, I asked what was going on. He looked at me and told me a story about a car that his father had owned. It was an old green beat up Chevy. He had inherited it when his father had died. Since it wasn't much of a car, he put on the lot to sell it. His father had told him a story when he was younger about selling that car once.

It had cursed the people who bought as one by one their family had died. He had told the man about the story before he bought the car. A few minutes earlier, the man came in to tell him that his family was gone. One by one, strange happenings had taken their lives. He came back to try to sell the car back to the dealer. The dealer's young son was standing by and told his dad to buy it back.

The owner had a flashback of standing by his father saying the same thing 15 years earlier. Shaking the owner told the man that he was sorry, but the cycle stopped here and asked him to leave his shop.

by Delilah Bromfield

Connection...our inner being or a lost love one connecting with our conscious mind is how I describe deja vu. Most of the experiences are usually triggered by one of our senses, maybe even possibly our "sixth" sense.

When I was growing up back in the 60's, our family had to plant a garden each year to help with finances. Each spring, we would all unite and get our rakes to clear and burn the dead leaves making way for new growth.

My mother would put a pot of pinto beans on the stove early that morning to cook while our garden work was being done. The aroma of the leaves burning and the beans cooking on a fresh spring day satisfied my sense of smell. Later in the evening as the sun went down we would sit by the fire and roast a few marshmallows, sometimes sing a few songs. If we decided to tell stories instead, the frogs in a nearby stream supplied the music.

A couple of weeks ago, my husband raked up some leaves out back and burned them after the sun went down. Frog's were singing nearby. When I caught a whiff of that aroma, I began smelling my Mom's pinto beans cooking, although I had nothing on the stove or in the oven. I felt the same pleasurable experience I had felt years ago as a child. I felt a closeness to my Mom and her presence even though she has been gone about fifteen years. For me, this deja vu experience was my Mom's way of giving me comfort and reminding me that she will always be near.

http://www.helium.com/items/318648-short-stories-deja-vu

by Penelope Wrightly

The door was once again jammed, despite the fact that all the other problems in the house had been fixed over last three years. The man in his dark suit pushed against the door firmly, only to find that after much great effort it only creaked slowly open at the last moment. He stepped into his house, accidently setting off a trip wire at the entrance of the door.

The only clue he got before lifting his eyes was a soft whirl and slight squeaking, like metal sliding past metal.

"Please not again." He looked up again to see his whole living room made into a living invention. He let out an exasperated sigh, putting a hand to his forehead; rubbing out the wrinkles that had gathered there after a hard day at work. He cautiously set his briefcase between the checkered floor of strings tied here and there along every crevasse. He looked around nervously straightening his tie and taking a deep breath before venturing into the unknown. It was going to be a piece of cake, he was afraid at first that there would be something unsuspected, but it was all the same like the year before. He thought this with a sigh of relief as viewed the cogs and wheels on the walls working at a slow pace and the fan above his head that he could see concealed feathery down. Nothing different at all; how wrong he was.

He was in the center of the room when he realized that something was different, the cogs on the walls had stopped moving but the noise he'd heard when he came in was still there. It grew louder; a slight shaking encompassed the room and the sound sounded like a large engine truck revving up.

"What in the world?" Then the lights went out, he stood frozen waiting for them to turn back on but they didn't. A faint glow, though, started to surround him. On closer inspection they looked like little fireflies. They moved around him and then came to a rest all over him, nearly covering every part of him. He became a neon yellow blob, and he was being tickled. The tiny little metal legs of the robots vibrated against him, he started to squirm while still trying to have the presence of mind to not move from his spot. It wasn't working very well, but still it seemed the fireflies gave up and the light around him was soon gone.

Another rainbow of lights rolled toward him, it was a big ball and it was coming right at him. With a thump he fell onto his backside in a very undignified manner, and set off a whole bunch of trip wires once again. The invention was now in full swing. The cogs moved, the generator roared up and the fan began to spin just as he was bathed in chocolate. The chocolate he tasted on his lips, gagging slightly. He was now tarredrather chocolated and feathered. He stepped forward not caring what might happen to him next, pillows on all sides of him sandwiched him and then let him drop right into a basin of neon paint. His backside now flashing orange and every inch of him covered in chocolate, he let out a frustrated yell.

"Marian!" All at once the cogs stopped, the fan froze in mid-spin, and the strings crossing across the floor collapsed. There was a slight, soft creaking as a door opened spilling light into the darkened room. A figure stood in the way of the light; it was shapely figure; but wore an odd get-up. An evening gown swept from her shoulders to the floor in glittering silver, a tool belt was slung over the waist and the feet were bare; hair swung up in a cascading hair do with a pencil sticking out.

"You are home at last." She came forward swaying her hips ever so slightly. "I've been waiting for you." She smiled at him, with a small quirk of her lips. As she neared him she raised her hands, he flinched slightly, and adjusted his tie that had gone awry. "There, now you look perfect." She smiled. "Good heavens what did you think I was going to do to you?" Her teeth now gleamed.

He remained silent, just staring at her, telling himself that she could not help it and that he should not get mad.

She placed a hand on his chest and leaned up and gave him a sweet kiss. "My you taste good." She mumbled, and then placed her head on his shoulder. With a sigh she turned around, but not before poking him in the stomach and grinning. "Happy anniversary, my love." She left him standing there with a shocked look on his face.

But what could he do? And so he followed after her.

by Allyjay

Short but true.

At the age of sixteen I went to my friend sarah's fancy dress party, dressed as a Charlestan Dancer, cigarette holder and all the get-up. The house was filled with characters from every tv programme, film, past and present, it was a great night, and a good laugh trying to guess who some of the characters were underneath their masks. Sarah's dad had invited his entire work-force to the party, and in hand they had bought their partners, some their brothers and sisters, the house was filled and the party was well on its way.

I met somebody that night, didn't catch his name, it was just one of those having a few dances together sort of thing, a few goodnight kisses, no ties, but a slight inkling the following day of whether you would see them again. Years passed on, me and sarah didn't remain friends we kind of grew apart. On my 25th birthday I went nightclubbing with a few friends quite a way from where I lived. I met this bloke and we got on really well, we swapped phone numbers and agreed to go out one night. We did and we married two years later, funny thing is though when we got talking after we were married going over old ground and memories, it turns out that the man I married was the same man I had spent dancing the night away with at the Fancy Dress Party all that time ago, now that is De Ja Vu.

http://www.helium.com/items/314695-short-stories-deja-vu

by C Davison

All my life I've had random instances of that feeling that I've done something or been somewhere before. It started very young, but I paid attention to it much more when I was a teenager (and much more reckless), and let these random feelings take a more active point in guiding my life. We've all been there, when life is going so bad that you just know you must be on the wrong track.

A personal theory of mine is that when you stray too far from 'your path' everything you do just turns to crap. It's like trying to put a round peg into a triangle hole. When I was younger, and perhaps had a little more courage and a lot less responsibility, and I knew I had to make a change but didn't know what, I came home from work and found a letter in the mail from a friend of mine who now lived several hundred miles away. We hadn't seen each other since, but the letter was an invitation, and suddenly I knew where I was going. I packed and ten minutes later with less than $20 dollars in my pocket and more faith than most I was on the freeway with my thumb out.

All the way there, I felt great. I can't explain it. I'd left everything behind. A note on the table explained to my landlord I would not return and two hundred dollars covered the cost of getting rid of my junk. I was fearless but happy. It took a day and a half to get there and I never so much as called to say I was coming but I knew it wouldn't be a problem. I arrived at 2am, and as we entered the city, my generous driver asked me where in the city I was headed. I handed him the address which was on 23rd St.

"Which one?", he wanted to know. Then he explained that city center was zero and that the streets counted out from there 1st Avenue E or W and 1st Street E or W and counted all the way up. "Are you sure it's a street? Usually those are industrial areas."

I wasn't sure but my good Samaritan took me to three addresses before finding the right 23rd Avenue. It was dark. "Do they know you're coming?"

"No, but friends don't care, do they?", I asked him. I think he probably wondered if I was all there, but I didn't care. I told him to come back and have coffee with me if he was in the neighborhood again and got out of the car.

"Are you sure? I could take you to a hotel until tomorrow." I was sure. I went up to the door and began ringing the bell, and just when I thought I might have made a mistake, a light came on and a face looked out the entrance window. The expression was worth the surprise trip, and I was glad I'd gone. Five minutes later I was drinking hot chocolate laced with Kahlua in the living room, and the whole time I was there I had the weirdest feeling. We talked, and my friend kept shaking her head. I can't believe you came.

"Well, when your letter came, the invitation said come anytime..." She laughed and it all just felt like I'd been there forever. Finally she told me she had to go to bed, and to work in the morning, and got up to show me where the spare room and bathroom were and I told her not to bother, I already knew. I could have told you where absolutely everything was. It was like I had lived in her house for years. Judy, if you're out there.... remember how weirded out we were? I even knew what was in the cupboards. It was the strongest Deja vu I've ever experienced, and it went right beyond strange.

I stayed there two years, and still see it as one of the best experiences of my life, remembering it fondly to this day.

by E.D. Cameron

Deja vu is your brain catching up to your memory, a temporary paralysis of your thought process like the spinning wheel of your cursor when the file is too big.

But there are also scientists who believe in cell memory, that our genetic code made be written in such a way that a smell, or picture could bring back the memories of our ancestors. That anything could trigger a memory from the people who walked before us, that their imprint was written in the tiny particles of each and everyone of our cells.

Jim walked slowly through the field, whistling an unfamiliar strain that was a melodious car crash. Fanatic rhythm, frenzied tone. It was a low sound, more from his gut than from his mouth.

The road was gravel and crunched underneath his shoes. It countered his tune, provided an uneasy percussion. Jim was trying to let his cells talk to him, take him away. Instead, his memory seemed to seize and convulse. Not with deja vu, but with sadness.

When he came to solid oak in the pasture, lone except for a few stragly bushes, he parked himself in the shade. It was the first time he had been outside in over a decade. The air felt cool over his skin, the smell crisp like burning leaves. The sun hung low, but large enough to tickle the hairs on the back of his hands.

He felt released.

It was peaceful here. His mouth, his gut quieted. Only the quiet melody of dusk. He stretched out and let himself soak in the sun, soak in the air, soak in nature. There was nothing more elemental, stirring, beautiful than this moment. And he savoured it.

Jim was free.

The room that had trapped him had been a quarter of quarter of a quarter of the stretch of land before him. What once may have seemed small now seemed infinite. Remote, like a past memory. For hindsight isn't really 20/20, Jim knew. No, hindsight was a vision of a cataract, cloudy and reducing the color of blue. So much looking into the past would eventually make you go blind.

He stared really into nowhere, into this great abyss where maybe anything was possible. Or maybe he had been here before. Maybe, in some ways, he had always been here stretched out underneath the solid oak tree in the pasture, the cool breeze tickling his skin, the smell of Autumn harsh in his nose, the low sun fading behind the hills.

And then sighing, he picked up his satchel and headed on.

Waking up from a dream, he stared from the window and felt like he'd been there before.

http://www.helium.com/items/319529-short-stories-deja-vu

Willie
Jun 2, 2003

In college I was dropping off some people in the town where I lived until I was 5. I had not been back to this town since leaving at the age of 5.

I was now 22.

As people exited the car, I had this wierd, strong feeling like I had been here before on this exact corner. I ran around the corner, down 1/2 a block and there was the house I had first lived in.

Seeing as I had not been there for 17 years, I thought it was very strange.

http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/archive/t-209333.html

Old 07-08-2009

This one time I had a dream where I was sitting at a table and watching someone leave, and I said something like "Don't leave me here to get molested!" I looked around after saying that, but it was all blurry and I woke up.

A week or two later, the carnival was in town and the exact thing that happened in my dream happened. I was saying the molested comment as a joke, and the person was my friend who was going to the bathroom. After saying it I looked around and everything was a clear version of what I saw in my dream. Right as I looked around my head began to swam and I felt dizzy.

Strangest. Feeling. Ever.

http://www.smashboards.com/showthread.php?p=7800639

By David Allen on April 7

This e-mail came in response to a column a few weeks (yikes) ago about the Ontario house with the topo maps. I meant to post the e-mail here but it slipped past me. Well, better late than never, here's what George Ehrnman had to say. I like the part about how he and his wife met:

Read with interest, as always, your column on the house on Rosewood Court with the wall of topographic maps. I would like to elaborate on a couple points.

When my wife, Sammy, and I were students at Chaffey High School (Class of '54) she and her family lived on Mills Avenue, which formed the boundary line between Los Angeles and San Bernardino counties. West side of the street - Pomona. East side of the street - S.B. Co.

Had they lived on the other side of the street she would have gone to Pomona H.S. and we would likely never have met. But instead, she was bused to Chaffey H.S.

I used to drive her home after school, going along 4th Street which became San Bernardino Road; if memory serves me the change point was Central. This was, and still is, like Mission Boulevard becomes 5th St. in Pomona. (She may have been "bussed" on the way home too!)

During that time the greater now Montclair area was not known as Narod. Narod was a much smaller area along Central. I believe the larger area was known to the residents as Monte Vista, after the name of the Monte Vista Water District that serves the area. But there was no Monte Vista Post Office and my wife's family got their mail at a box in the Pomona Post Office.

At some point, late '50s or early '60s, the good folks of "Monte Vista" decided to incorporate as a city, but they were denied a post office by that name because it was already taken. A check of a current AAA map of California reveals no city called Monte Vista -- perhaps it has been swallowed up into a larger city. So they looked to their neighbor on the west and turned Claremont around to Montclair and got their post office. I think Montclair sounds better than Omapom, don't you?

A final irony. My wife and I now live in one of those tiny spots on the old maps, Alta Loma, on a street called Monte Vista.

http://www.insidesocal.com/davidallen/2008/04/topo-map-needs-work.html

Friday, October 26, 2007

Okay, just what in the name of freaky weirdness is déja vu?
I was eating another delicious carb filled and not even slightly boring bowl of Ready Brek this morning, while listening to the Paramour. I put my bowl down and then the back door blew open and the Paramour said...'we can grab a bite to eat before hand if you-'then the phone rang.
But God Damn it, just before it did I was already rolling in my head with 'hey I've seen this, I know what-'
Deja Vu, a big one.
Now I only get this now and again, and it's annoying that I"m NEVER quick enough to yell 'the phones about to ring!" or whatever before it happens, for that would be most cool and also I'd consider getting my own TV show if I could predict shit. I could do Derek Acora-escue shenanigans, 'eeee by heck love, yer husband, 'as 'e passed? Oh yes, 'e's telling me to tell yer 'e were a sick man. 'e died in an accident? Aye, that's what 'e's saying, one the say of the accident 'e were feeling right poorly. Oh ah feel him now, I feel him, do you feel him? DO yer? 'e says to tell you 'e's here with yer mudder, oh that's yer mudder beside yer? No no, sorry, the spiritual lines were caught in a spiritual storm, he's telling me no, yer grandmudder...did she were glasses? Yes, that's her... yes, ah don't cry.'

Anyway, I would like to know just what the hell deja vu is? No Matrix waffle either. Anyone? And what's the most deja vu-y thing to happen to you, and have any of you every managed to beat it and say what was about to happen seconds before it did?

http://fatmammycat.blogspot.com/2007/10/deja-vu.html

By: Mark

My favorite synchronicity story came to manifest following a conversation about SYNCHRONICITY. I worked as a classroom assistant for the Indianapolis Public School System. We often had study time for the students in each class so I got into the habit of bringing a book to read. One week I was reading a book titled "Synchronicity". I encouraged the teacher ( Emily ) to take the book home one night and tell me her impressions. After a few days she returned the book to me and told me that although the found the stories of synchronicity facinating, she felt that they must have been embellished to some degree to make them more entertaining. A few months laater during summer break, I got a call from her asking if I would be interested in taking a bicycle that she was going to otherwise throw out. I told her that I would and said that I would be right up to her place once I had a chance to take a shower. As I was finishing the shower, I went to turn the cold water knob and heard a clear SNAP. The water nosle refused to close. I called my landlord and informed him of the problem. He told me to hold tight and that his on-call plumber would be there within the hour. The man arrived and was able to quickly diagnose and fix the problem. The washer behind the cold water know had

finally given way I was living in a very old boarding house at the time. He said to me, "Ya know, that washer was probably there for 35 years, but today was the day it broke" I thanked him for his trouble and made my way to Emily's house. She lived in a very old house in a suburb Northwest of town. ( about a 20 mile drive ) When I arrived, Emily met me at the door dressed in a bathrobe and her hair up in a towel. She was visibly upset as she proceeded to tell me how just after our phone conversation she had gotten in to the shower and upon trying to shut off the water she heard a SNAP and the cold water refused to turn off. [ it was the washer behind the cold water knob ]

http://www.synchronicitystories.net/Synchronicity_Stories_3.html

14:31 30/01/2003

Late last year I experienced a run of synchronicities about 'doubles'.

Earlier this week, in one 24 hour period, the synchronicity bubbled up again. I have just posted this story to the private Members' Forum and then realised it would be a good one to share here:

Here's the story (this was during a couple of days in Sydney promoting Dream Alchemy):

On Monday, early evening, Michael and I were sitting in a coffee shop in Double Bay, unaware that this marked the beginning of a doubling synchronicity.

While there we each noticed a yellow-gold Rolls Royce parked about three car spaces from where we were sitting. The number plate was simply RR.

A couple of hours later we took a taxi to a radio station for an interview. A woman named Amanda had checked details with us. We arrived and were duly met by Amanda. She took us upstairs and introduced us to the only other woman there - another Amanda. (We 'double' checked - they were, indeed, both Amandas.)

The next day, we stood in Oxford Street, Darlinghurst, waiting for a taxi to take us to another radio station. We stood there for about three minutes. We both saw the yellow-gold Rolls Royce with its signature double RR numberplate drive past.

At lunchtime we were at Circular Quay and a couple who we had specifically observed at Double Bay walked past.

In the afternoon I received a mobile phone call while we were in another taxi going back to the airport. It was from a radio producer named Peter, wondering if I could do Dream Talk Back for them that evening. His presenter's name? You've got it. Peter.

The Peter-Peter doubling was extra interesting because they had no idea about Dream Alchemy! They had been recommended to call me by their new programme director who had heard me in the past.

So - I'm here saying 'yes' to the principle of all good things being doubled and doubled and doubled .....

Double Bay/ double sighting of rolls royce/ RR / Amanda-Amanda/ double sighting of Double Bay couple/ Peter-Peter.

Jane Teresa

2009-06-03
By: kiwi7

We just moved to this house last summer and ever since then I've been getting feelings of déjà vu. The first time was immediately after we moved in. I was walking down the hall on the second floor. When I got to the landing, I reached out for the railing and froze. Literally, my mind went totally blank. It was like I had dreamed I had done the exact same thing but the thing was, we hadn't lived in the house when I dreamed it (nor were we even in the same state). The feeling only lasted for a couple of seconds before going away. Back then I chalked it off as whatever. A couple months later I was outside on the deck and it happened again. I reached out for the railing in front of the back door and that same feeling hit me again. I froze and was unable to move for a couple of seconds before snapping out of it and chalking it off as another "whatever" thing.

A couple months passed again before anything happened. It was December and I was putting up the tree. Now I'm a seventeen year old girl and I pretty much did all of the tree and the lights and the decorating and I remember feeling so mad because I was the only one doing anything. It was late in the evening and I was putting up ornaments on the tree. When I reached up to put one on I froze and this time I could remember doing the exact same thing about a month earlier. The vision I had was me putting up an ornament (it was a little red bulb) on the tree, alone, and at night. The only thing different was that, when this actually happened, my family was behind me talking to each other.

The last feeling of déjà vu that I can remember happened in February when I was talking to my friend in the school library. We had never been in the library together before this. My friend and I were sitting in two of the arm chairs in the corner and when I bent down to tie my shoe and I froze, this time for about 30 seconds. My friend had asked me what was wrong and all I could tell her was, "I think I've done this with you before."

I really don't know what to make of it. Is it just me? Is it this place? I've never had this kind of thing happen to me anywhere else.

http://www.psychic-experiences.com/real-psychic-story.php?story=2807

By: Michael Anthony

For the past year or so I have had my own customized excite page that is set up as the default site for my web browser. It's a page that most of the search engines offer that enables you to have a customized page with your own specialized links, your own customized news, etc.

The URL for this page which is generated by excite is about 30 or 40 letters or digits long. It is set up as my default page on my browser. If I were to try to find it on somebody else's computer it would be pretty much impossible.

Anyway, last week I was travelling. I was in a mall in Menlo Park New Jersey (about a 9 hour drive from my home in Toronto, Canada) My friend and I were walking through a mall and we saw one of those vendors that sells products from a cart off in the distance. It was an internet service provider with a computer set up for people to surf the net for fun.

As we were approaching it, my friend said he would like to check the stock markets. I told him he could go to excite.com because they have a link to the markets there. We got in front of the monitor and I noticed it was already on excites page. Then I noticed it wasn't on excites main page, but it was on somebody's customized page because it said "Mike's page" in the top corner.

I then looked at it closely and noticed the customized links, the customized news, customized reminders, customized weather forecasts, and noticed this internet connection was at MY PERSONALIZED PAGE! This wasn't the browsers default. It just happened to be there.

I couldn't believe it! What are the chances of me being 600 miles from home and walking up to a monitor and finding my page at that specific moment?

UNBELIEVABLE!

We asked the fellow in charge how this could happen to be sitting on my page right now. A page which I wouldn't know how to find on another computer, never mind my friend. (who had been with me all along.) No, he didn't do it as a joke. He wouldn't know how.

The fellow in charge was freaked out as well. He said it made him feel like going to church.

I'll just mark it down as one of life's bizarre events which will forever go unanswered.

http://www.synchronicitytimes.com/mike_and_michael.htm

By: Anon

I was between the ages of 3 and 6 at the time, and as a child, I was not the fastest academic developer. I am 14 now, and seem to suddenly succeed in my classes.

However, back then, I had many more vivd dreams that I can remember. Many more detailed, high-quality dreams. Things I doubt would come to me naturally.

It was one Winter's night, when I had a very deep sleep. I can scarely recall the night in question, but the dream still haunts me to this day.

I was lying, emanciated, in a heap of bony people. Our skin, was grey, and pallid. Sagging, in the way that I know recognise skin to become when one has lost weight rapidly. Unlike most dreams, I could actually feel a cold dread, and I remember being tired, to the point where I could not rise. I did not see much of myself, but I am sure I was not myself. I remember seeing some officers wearing brown and green, like a flashback. And I remember hearing people talk of escaping. I remember feeling woozy, and effortless. I felt like all the energy had been stripped away from me. I could still hear, but my eyes were not open.

The dream puzzled me for a long time. I did not want to ask people about it. Looking back, these were very sinster thoughts for someone so young, naive and child-like as me, then.

When studying the Holocaust, aged 13, I happened to be researching in a textbook. After searching google images, I was stunned and scared. These pictures of the gas chambers took me right back to my dream. It was eerie.

I am certain I did not know fully of the Holocaust when I was at the time I had the dream.

However, I am also not doubting that the events have changed in my mind over time. I would not be suprised if I had heard a snippet of a conversation concerning this, and it had triggered something in my mind. This dream could be a fabrication of my mind.

I do know that I am not making this up. I was not aware of this time period when I had the dream. I do know that I am not intentionally wasting your time...I am just intrigued and scared. I have researched the Holocaust avidly since I made this connection.

Do you know how I could find out more?

I even wondered, not that I 100% believe in rebirth of enrgy/reincarnation, but maybe, that this related to someone else's life. Not mine.

http://www.wirenot.net/X/Articles/2009/H/holocaust.shtml?e=0,1,2#0

From: Tessa

The first part of my story is a meditation guided by myself, and the second part is the past life regression that was unexpected and very hopefully not imagined.

This happened tonight when I was trying to have a lucid dream. I was at my friends house and I was trying to fall asleep and have a dream about being in a forest. I had also instructed my friend to direct me by talking to me when I fell asleep.

I started thinking about forests, in where I was in a white dress and barefoot. There was a small, but very deep pond in front of me, surrounded by trees. I step in, but sink very slowly to about the middle of the pool. Breathing isn't necessary. I see my chakras in front of me, glowing on the wall as a guide. I slowly clear my chakras, all negative energy flowing towards the earth. Spiritually cleansed, I swim downward. After a while, I unexpectedly come to a light. I feel myself leaving my body, and I'm composed only of my conscious energy and chakra pools. I see my body floating in the white light, hair billowed out like I'm underwater (which I am). I will return soon.

The white light opens up into a very tidy street that is lined with shops and composed of cement. There are no cars to be seen. I am guessing it was in either England or a rich American town, in the 40s or the 50s. The sky is clear, except for a few clouds, and I can't see anyone around, yet there is "people noise". I feel myself forming into a grown man in a black suit, wearing a top hat and holding a briefcase. The tidy house next to me has a well manicured lawn with a white picket fence surrounding it. I turn left, and see a road composed of houses. The houses are old fashioned and white, and every lawn is perfect and has a street light on it. About the seventh house down, I turn up the sidewalk and walk in the door, shrugging off my coat and hanging my hat on the top of the coat tree. A small dog is there to greet me, and my wife walks in. She is wearing a dress that is a dark, but soft color of purple, with lace that covers her neck. She is brunette, and has long hair. Then my friend came over and started whispering "Fig Newtons" and my ear and it ended.

Hopefully this comes across as a valid experience and not the ramblings of a teenager.

Thank you sincerely for reading,
Tessa

http://www.wirenot.net/X/Articles/2009/M/meditationturnsintopastliferegression.shtml?e=0,1,2#0

By Mike Mandel

Here's one of the most startling synchronicity stories I've ever heard. It was told to me by my late father on the very day it happened to him... Back in 1976 my dad was very active in amateur radio in Toronto.

His call sign was VE3 FBO and he was fascinated by radio, having taught radio communications in the British Army in WW2. One day a friend of his came over to pick up some radio gear he had bought from my dad. Dad got a dolly from the underground parking lot of our townhouse and lugged the stuff out to the guy's car. They loaded everything and then stood by the car chatting. My dad asked his friend if he'd ever heard of a "19 set". His friend asked him what it was and my father replied that a "19 set" was a Russian tank radio that the British Army had used to teach radio courses in the war. Apparently the gauges were in Russian, but the radio had been simple to use and train with.

My father remarked that he'd love to get hold of one, although it seemed unlikely as they'd vanished with the end of WW2. His friend jokingly said "I'll keep my eye open for you, in case one shows up". Then he drove away. My father took the dolly back to the underground parking lot and walked past a pile of junk over by the wall. On top of the junkpile was a "19 set" Russian Tank radio! Dad said he got a chill when he saw it and couldn't believe his eyes. He took it from the junk pile and carried it up to our townhouse. He plugged it in and it worked perfectly. All the ancient tubes were intact. All his inquiries led nowhere. No one knew who put it there. When my father passed away the "19 set" was donated to the National War Museum in Ottawa where it resides to this day with a photograph of my father seated at it.

http://www.synchronicitytimes.com/mike_and_michael.htm

By Bill Bonner

06/19/09 London, England Rarely has The Daily Reckoning been criticized for understating trouble. But trouble keeps getting ahead of us. We can barely keep up with it. So often have we anticipated ‘disaster’ or ‘catastrophe’ that the words now fall like empty shells. We light the fuses; they don’t go off. Alas, we have become alarmists with no bell or siren. We break the glass and pull the lever every week, but no sound is heard…except the familiar words whispered with in a hoarse, weary voice…watch out!

So today we turn to the dead for eyewitness accounts:

Otto Freidrich described the period of German hyperinflation and its effects: “… People carried wages home in huge crates; by the time they could spend even their trillion-mark notes they were practically worthless… There was not a single girl in the entire middle class who could get married without her father paying a dowry… They saved and saved so that they could get married, and so it destroyed the whole idea of remaining chaste until marriage…the girls learned that virginity didn’t matter anymore.”

“Against my will,” wrote author Stefan Zweig “I have witnessed the most terrible defeat of reason and wildest triumph of brutality in the chronicles of history.” Zweig lived through the hyperinflation in Germany during the ’20s and sold stories to survive. Later, he moved to Brazil and blew his brains out.

Brutality triumphed because civilized life was smothered by inflation. The Treaty of Versailles condemned the Huns to pay more than 47,000 tonnes of gold in reparations. Taking that amount of real money out of the economy left the Germans with no choice. They had no money left. They had to create it. Result: hyperinflation. The size of the banknotes rose with the crisis. In 1922, the highest denomination was 50,000 Mark. By 1923, the highest denomination was 100,000,000,000,000 Mark. By December 1923 the exchange rate was 4,200,000,000,000 Marks to 1 US dollar.”

The German middle class was wiped out. More importantly, the handrails and guideposts wobbled, so there was nothing to hold onto and no way to know where you were going. Businesses, banks, military, police, even the government itself – everything tottered and fell down. In the tumult, war-hardened rabble rolled towards Herr Hitler like loose nuts.

“In economics,” begins the Wikipedia description, “ hyperinflation is inflation that is very high or out of control… Hyperinflation is often associated with wars (or their aftermath), economic depressions, and political or social upheavals. In both classical economics and monetarism, it is always the result of the monetary authority irresponsibly borrowing money to pay all its expenses.”

Who’s the biggest borrower today? The United States of America. At 12% of GDP, its deficit is more than twice as large as that of France. It already owes Japan and China as much as Germany owed its former enemies in reparations – adjusted to today’s money. But America’s debts are far grander than those of Germany in 1923 – even relative to the size of the US economy. Where Germany owed a little over $1 trillion; America – if you include private debt, official government debt, off-budget obligations and internal commitments – owes 100 times as much. And the United States keeps borrowing more. In a single year – 2009 – it will borrow $1.3 trillion, again, just shy of the debt that sank the Weimar Republic.

While the private sector during the bubble years brought U.S. debts to a record 3.7 times the entire nation’s output, now it’s the public sector that does the borrowing. The Obama Administration is adding to the accumulated U.S. debt at a suicidal pace – four times faster than the record set just last year. And America’s central bank hands the borrower a loaded pistol; it is adding bank reserves – which allow the money supply to expand geometrically – at a 4,500% rate.

That last number is not a typo. It’s an alarm. If the Federal Reserve were a heart patient, the defibrillators would be on already. If it were a normal bank, it would be closed down immediately.

But neither Karl Helferich nor Ben Bernanke set out to ruin their economies. Central bankers don’t do it intentionally; they do it inevitably. Not because they want to, but because they have to. Like the Germans in the ’20s, America has no politically acceptable way to pay her growing debts – except by printing more money. And now, her leading intellectuals urge her on. Cometh the hour when the feds begin to think about cutting back on their program of inflation, cometh the experts who will tell them to keep at it.

“The crisis seems to be easing, and a chorus of critics is already demanding that the Federal Reserve and the Obama administration abandon their rescue efforts,” writes Nobel winning economist Paul Krugman in the New York Times this week. “Those demands should be ignored. It’s much too soon to give up on policies that have…pulled us a few inches back from the abyss.”

“It’s déjà vu all over again,” he concludes, referring to the Japanese in the ’90s and the Americans in the ’30s. In both cases, he thinks their economies died because they turned off the juice too soon. But people come to think what they must think when they must think it:

“To follow the good counsel of stopping [the inflation machine] would mean… that in a very short time the entire public, factories, mines, railways and post office, national and local government, in short, all national and economic life would be stopped.”

Karl Helferich, Chairman, Central Bank of Germany, 1923.

Déjà vu, all over again. Once more.

(http://dailyreckoning.com/deja-vu-all-over-again-once-more/)

By zenith_vsp
Date: 2009-01-06
http://www.yourghoststories.com

I am not a guy that is easily fooled into things or by things. I look at things in a logical sense, and often try to debunk them.

For the past 18 months, I have been having these weird dreams in which I myself just standing in a place that I have never seen before staring at people doing what ever they are doing. At any rate, whilst I'm experiencing this I can't move or do anything but just stare. Then I wake up a couple seconds or minutes later.

When I'm at school or at home I would be sitting down, standing up or doing something else, when at that point, I would realize that the place I'm sitting or standing in is exactly what I dreamed about. Everything is exactly the way I saw it in my dream. I don't even know how to explain it; the surrounding environment I was in is exactly replicated in my dreams. Very odd in some other scenarios.

I actually avoid doing something knowing what the consequences are going to be. How do I know you may ask? Well when things become vivid and clear and start happening in sequences I start putting pieces together and remember what happens next. Though not really helpful if it doesn't happen soon after.

Before I go to sleep, maybe even before I have these dreams, a voice in my head that sounds distinctly like mine, says things like; "Sell your soul to the demon" or at times it mixes and matches the wording to "Give your soul to the demon", or whatever relates to those two statements. I just brush it off my shoulders saying something like "Dude, shut your mouth" or "Get the **Bleep** out of here", then the voice would stop. A couple nights later, the voice comes back.

I have no idea what it is, or why it says those particular statements to me. It's not really scaring me, but it rather gives me a discomforting notion. If you must know, both my troubles are tied together.

Hopefully someone can give me some insight as to what is happening or going on with me.

Thanks in advance.

by C Davison
http://www.helium.com/

All my life I've had random instances of that feeling that I've done something or been somewhere before. It started very young, but I paid attention to it much more when I was a teenager (and much more reckless), and let these random feelings take a more active point in guiding my life. We've all been there, when life is going so bad that you just know you must be on the wrong track.

A personal theory of mine is that when you stray too far from 'your path' everything you do just turns to crap. It's like trying to put a round peg into a triangle hole. When I was younger, and perhaps had a little more courage and a lot less responsibility, and I knew I had to make a change but didn't know what, I came home from work and found a letter in the mail from a friend of mine who now lived several hundred miles away. We hadn't seen each other since, but the letter was an invitation, and suddenly I knew where I was going. I packed and ten minutes later with less than $20 dollars in my pocket and more faith than most I was on the freeway with my thumb out.

All the way there, I felt great. I can't explain it. I'd left everything behind. A note on the table explained to my landlord I would not return and two hundred dollars covered the cost of getting rid of my junk. I was fearless but happy. It took a day and a half to get there and I never so much as called to say I was coming but I knew it wouldn't be a problem. I arrived at 2am, and as we entered the city, my generous driver asked me where in the city I was headed. I handed him the address which was on 23rd St.

"Which one?", he wanted to know. Then he explained that city center was zero and that the streets counted out from there 1st Avenue E or W and 1st Street E or W and counted all the way up. "Are you sure it's a street? Usually those are industrial areas."

I wasn't sure but my good Samaritan took me to three addresses before finding the right 23rd Avenue. It was dark. "Do they know you're coming?"

"No, but friends don't care, do they?", I asked him. I think he probably wondered if I was all there, but I didn't care. I told him to come back and have coffee with me if he was in the neighborhood again and got out of the car.

"Are you sure? I could take you to a hotel until tomorrow." I was sure. I went up to the door and began ringing the bell, and just when I thought I might have made a mistake, a light came on and a face looked out the entrance window. The expression was worth the surprise trip, and I was glad I'd gone. Five minutes later I was drinking hot chocolate laced with Kahlua in the living room, and the whole time I was there I had the weirdest feeling. We talked, and my friend kept shaking her head. I can't believe you came.

"Well, when your letter came, the invitation said come anytime..." She laughed and it all just felt like I'd been there forever. Finally she told me she had to go to bed, and to work in the morning, and got up to show me where the spare room and bathroom were and I told her not to bother, I already knew. I could have told you where absolutely everything was. It was like I had lived in her house for years. Judy, if you're out there.... remember how weirded out we were? I even knew what was in the cupboards. It was the strongest Deja vu I've ever experienced, and it went right beyond strange.

I stayed there two years, and still see it as one of the best experiences of my life, remembering it fondly to this day.

It was Sunday, I received an invite for a night of casual debauchery at the cabin of a friend of a friend. I was just about fed up with the malaise of my hometown, so I figured a journey to Dark Lake, MI would be a welcome change.

I arrived late and was greeted by a swarm of individuals who were long past drunk. My heart sunk as I crossed the threshold of the rotting doorway. That stench, that severed head of an elk hanging from the wall, the sound of dead branches clawing at the window; I've been here before.

The room smelled of bile and Killian's Irish Red, the taxidermy elk gazed at me sideways, and the branches of the dead oak tree played an eerie crescendo on the cracked glass of the window. Why was this so familiar?

Sit down man, have a beer said one of my friends. I didn't move. "What's up with you? It looks like you've seen a ghost," laughed a random buffoon. "I've been here before," I uttered. I stood there paralyzed for what could have been hours, my stomach in ropes. People began to question my sanity.

I finally made my way to an open seat and opened a beer, I was silent. Feral waves of memory came rushing to my mind, each branching off into infinity sucking me deeper into a confusing abyss of synchronicity and a sense of inescapable familiarity. Everyone was too drunk to notice me in a paralytic trance, immersed in a phenomenon which I could not explain.

I slipped into an alcohol induced coma and woke up the next morning with a headache and an even more eerie sensation. Everyone was gone. The cabin was an abandoned shell of the metropolis of decadence it had been the night before. The fortress of vehicles which occupied the lawn had become a collection of muddy tire tracks. Where was everybody? Why didn't they wake me up if they were going somewhere? Was this real?

My questions were never answered. I later learned that the friends who invited me had left the party after I'd manually shut my body down. I'm not sure what happened in the cabin on Dark Lake, MI that Sunday night, but I've never returned.