Casablanca Lily

I think this perfume might really be it this time… Casablanca Lily with its honey drenched florals, sharp edges, elegant and demure sensuality and quiet warmth seems right. Too happy for my current state of mind but my temperament was buoyant and optimistic as a little girl. That’s my actual personality. I’m intense and can be haughty and melancholic but paradoxically I’m also cheerful by nature. Sensitive but ebullient. I think this fragrance captures me fairly well. We’ll see as time goes on but I’m hopeful…

By the way, I’m not sure if I’m “adopted” that I have a dead brother. I might have a dead sister. Either way, should this person exist I think they are quite…something. If they don’t exist I hope I’m sensing some other ghost who does exist.

Anyway, speaking of ghosts again, I would like to elaborate on my last post. I did have a dream where I was held…

I was a teenager. In the dream I was somewhere elegant and tropical. It felt very real and as I woke up I saw at least one face before I ended the dream and then as I slowly woke up I felt male arms around me holding me. It very much felt like an actually physically present young man was laying next to me holding me. I shifted slightly in shock and the arms remained and I interacted with him in my mind before I opened my eyes and didn’t want to wake-up, but of course I had to as it was a school day. Then as I opened my eyes I saw his face. Like an actual face hovering over my own face. He was smiling at me. Maybe 30 seconds later the face was gone. It was the most reassuring experience of my entire life…

For years I rationalized it away by saying that it was a premonition of a man I might meet and fall in love with when I was older. It was too heartbreakingly beautiful and gripping and mind-bending to easily think of as only a dream. It felt like it had to mean something… And the main man in the dream felt like my soulmate. Or a soulmate… But I’ve never met him and at this point, I’ve sort of guessed at who he was. And I obviously think he’s a ghost.

At the time I told my mother (who raised me) about the dream and she scoffed and thought it was demonic. I told my father (who raised me) and he thought I liked blond men and in the same conversation thought I would someday write a novel. The man in my dream was fairly blond… Neither of them thought it was my soulmate but my mother did suspect it was supernatural, of course. She also thought one of the first young men I fell in love with in high school was evil…

The thing is, I wept because I thought I was going to die an old maid someday when I was 17. And it wasn’t because I was overreacting. I was logical and gifted and sensitive and incredibly depressed and I couldn’t figure out how to fix my life… I was a great student, I tried to be a great daughter, friend, and a great Christian and yet it wasn’t enough because my parents had issues…and even with all of the hours and hours and hours I spent trying to counsel them to make them raise me correctly it didn’t work.

And I think given the trajectory of how my life unfolded I became gradually more and more haunted. Should ghosts and not just demons interact with the living…ghosts try to interact with me. And the more pain I’ve experienced in life the more they manifest. I pray against demons as a Christian… I have since I was a child. I was raised in those sort of Pentecostal churches. But these seeming ghosts don’t feel evil any more than any living human does and oftentimes their presence feels much less evil than most living humans.

I think Purgatory likely exists. Or some place like Purgatory. I don’t know, obviously, but it makes sense to me. I think that’s where these dead humans are. I think they’re working through things… Because Heaven requires absolute perfection and the power of Christ redeems us but I think God values the process of helping us learn and freely choose righteousness. I think if we die imperfect the process of learning and working through our pain and sin is something that might not happen with just a snap of the fingers, so to speak, but with our submission and obedience over time. Purgatory…

If I have a father who was born in the 1800’s I really could possibly have theoretically been born much earlier in the 20th Century depending on how God crafts us. Either way, he died in the 1980’s… And…golly…whether I’m “adopted” or not, but especially if I am, I just can’t help but wonder if these ghosts haunt me as an actual part of their Purgatorial process. As in: “Here’s a person who you could have loved had she been born in 1924 instead of 1983. How do you think you would have treated her? Let’s look at this more closely. Go ahead and say hello, I’ll allow it occasionally.” …Or, “She’s miserable. Go comfort her because I know the limits of reality. No one alive will understand her pain the way you do or comfort her the way you can. She needs a hug. You’re allowed to in this case.”

Regardless…I’m soo pleased by Byredo. Good golly, I need to spend more time with this house. I’ve done a bad job investigating it.