/int/ – No shittings during wörktime
„There is no place like home“

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No. 8007
71 kB, 342 × 427
Spooky stories and assorted information. Does anyone have any good spooky stories?
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No. 8013
Only one.

I worked in a hotel in the catering center for awhile, setting up rooms for events, and working them as a waiter.

Right when I started near the end of one of my shifts, we had one less room to set up, a co-worker and I, both relatively new, and my manager. My manager was off doing who knows what. Now there were three rooms all down one hall way and they had air walls so they could be opened up as a big-ish room, 1 small room, or three separate small rooms or one large room.

We had to set the first one up so I walk up to the door and look at the peep hole and see the lights on, people sitting down and I go oh there's people in here, the co-worker looks and agrees so we go and sit down in the adjacent room and wait for them to leave.

5-10 minutes go by and my boss comes back like WTF ARE YOU GUYS DOING GET TO FUCKING WORK and naturally we're like uhhh there's people in that room we can't do anything. He says no one was using that room today, and sure enough we go in there, and the lights are off and while the room was set up in much the same way as far as layout is concerned, the chairs were stacked up, and there weren't any table cloths.

Me and the other guy just looked at each other spoopily and explained to the boss that we SAW people in there, and he's like oh, well yeah, this place is freaky sometimes.
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No. 8017
243 kB, 404 × 507
>>8013
Why are hotels so spooky ;_;
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No. 8019
>>8013
I was going to say that sounds like it could be easily explained as someone WAS using the room and somehow got in and out without you noticing but
>and he's like oh, well yeah, this place is freaky sometimes.
Well THAT is disconcerting. You would think this is a bit beyond just "oh you think you hear voices" spoopy and two people actually SEEING them.

I actually had some sort of an experience working alone once like that. I was finishing up back when I worked in a kitchen and heard some people chatting and laughing in the dining room, so I figured it was just the waitresses chatting at the bar having an after work cocktail. Well I go in there to tell them hey I'm done time to close up and as I swing the door open and step forward in one mention I enter pitch blackness. There was fucking no one there. And I should add, that this was in the middle of a fucking forest, so clearly they had already driven off long ago. One coworker said she once saw a pitcher fly horizontally across the room late at night. I fucking hated working that place alone late at night. I'm actually not entirely sure what causes this but my best guess is it's like leaving impressions or psychic emanations across time rather than actual ghosts in the moment, but truth be told idk. I'm not the only one who was spooked to fuck by the place either.

Another weird experience I had was peering into an abandoned asylum while I was visiting friends at their school. I wandered off alone close to dusk and as I peered in suddenly heard shrieking. I NOPE'd from there. Told them about it and they went later and confirmed there was something fucked about the place, feeling buzzing and ringing in their heads approaching it and just generally seemed really spooked when I saw them later.

Apparently some UrbEx guys went in there at some other time, and for context it is a severely dilapidated building that's an actual safety hazard to be around with collapsing walls and ceilings and asbestos dust that's patrolled by security (forget if it's actual PD). There were four of them IIRC. Well they got spooked hearing the cops and fled, but they went late at night, and the one friend somehow I think fell through a floor and got trapped there.
By himself.
ALL NIGHT LONG UNTIL THE SUN CAME UP AND WAS RESCUED. He promptly because a complete drug addict alcoholic who was genuinely fucked in the head after that. Keep in mind, this was a facility where people died all the time. There's like two hundred unmarked graves still there somewhere in a horse field and I think some of the darker MKULTRA experiments were tried there.
I cannot imagine what that poor fuck must have experienced. I have also concluded LA and San Francisco have a demonic energy to them. I've also seen the shadow people but it no longer bothers me.
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No. 8020
>>8017
IMO I think that there's two types of places: really transient ones and really permanent ones. The places like hotels, conference rooms and convention halls, things like that have no permanent presence so it's like long time periods "rub off" rather chaotically.

And then there's those stereotypical places, the places that are one long, high pitched shriek like an obsidian dagger pierces the silent darkness, the places like a house where the family was murdered. And then there are those special terrors, where year after year decade after decade seemed to drench the spatial soul in blood and inky blackness of corruption and suffering like insane asylums. I think this may also be because a happy family or just generic family doesn't overwrite the very aura of the place with some horror, but for me personally hotels are places of sanctuary and solitude for that reason. I have never once been in a hotel I didn't like. They all comforted me. They feel like a checkpoint IRL, safe and timeless with no definitive location, both everywhere and nowhere.
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No. 8025
>>8019
>>8019
oh yeah, it's a possibility that there could have been some people who came in and sat down but they wouldn't have cleaned up after themselves, at least likely they would not have.

>>8019
> LA and San Francisco have a demonic energy to them
Have heard people say that, think it's something those spanish catholics did to the natives/mexicans back in the day?
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No. 8053
>>8025
Nah, I think at least something like that might explain New England's weird spookiness but then again maybe. For whatever strange reason a ton of occult groups or straight up cults are all headquartered around California, mainly in those two cities. It's really palpable. DC has a kind of weird vibe to it too, but more like...like the feel you would expect from some elder vampires living in DC for lack of better explanation. New England feels like ghosts and thin between worlds. LA and San Francisco in particular just have this straight up demonic vibe. But I'm sure massacres and the general sick fuckery of the Spanish didn't help.
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No. 9659
61 kB, 382 × 435
We need more spooks ITT.

As a child I used to live in a haunted house, but my memories are not good enough for a nice story. Weird shit just happened from time to time and years before we moved in, the landlord was sawing a cross-shape into the wooden ceiling of our basement, but refused to explain.

I think my most interesting memory is, how I was in a super big, white decorated room (t'was nice actually) in our basement, but can't really remember if it was there. I failed to explain to my family, they could never really recall that room.
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No. 9661
58 kB, 252 × 342
You know what's spooky, that the window of being is incredibly short.
What you could define as "yourself" (and I don't mean TRV self, but physical self) is the current state of Being, or state of your mind. When this state of being changes, you morph into a different entity. It's a gradual, but fast process. In my case, it only takes a day to completely lose touch with my previous state of being. Mere hours to stop experiencing your being intensely.

I'm not talking about memories. Memories are just information that your mind observes. Being is what state your mind is in while it observes (or does anything else).

Nostalgia is such a strong feeling not because it's an evocation of pleasant memories, but because it is a state in which you momentarily experience what it was like BEING in that memory. It immerses you in the past, rather than presenting it to you.

It was a rather troubling thought when I observed that I lose my Essence every couple of hours, and morph into something else. Neurotypicals mask this knowledge with a semi-permanent construct of a social identity or a narrative identity, basically a story of who they are that they tell themselves. But those are just their memories, Being is not permanent, it's ever changing.

I feel a strange sense of loss when I realize that I will NEVER, ever feel exactly like it was to be myself as a child, other than sometimes getting a faint taste of it in vivid dreams.
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No. 9750
>>9661
The funny thing is I actually know what you are trying to say, you just phrase things in such a schizo sounding way (honestly imo all such "mental illness" is on some level nothing but a failure to express things in a well enough manner to others).

Although for me personally, I quite enjoy the fact of me being rather ephemeral. You must simply try and do future you a favor in the present, and decide which few cryptic things to hold onto and which the rest to discard. Just imagine if a thing such as reincarnation worked. Would you really wish to even bother with remembering being anyone else or all the times an iterations of you were alone with others?
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No. 9751
114 kB, 1000 × 690
>>9661
I have the same, we're suffering from brain chemistry damage from drug-use and depression. Life used to be effortless for me, now it's a struggle to stay myself, my mind wants to wander and I feel hung over every day even if I drink a beer only once every 2 weeks. Some of it can be reversed with the right nutrition but might take years. Using boards is not helping. A big problem is also digestive damage, buy some probiotics and pressurized kefir and tell us if you notice a difference in your mood.
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No. 9752
>>9750
I disagree; I find that Brick tends to express himself pretty clearly.

Does this mean I am also schizo :DDD
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No. 9759
>>9750
It's not a problem of expression, it's a problem of language. As in, speaking a different language that has the same semantics. Ascribing different meanings to the same words.

Being out of phase with social reality. The more out of phase you are, the more schizo you are. I have a problem grasping how on observer would interpret my words, they might mean different things to him than they do to me. Well, I consider it impossible, since you can only view things from your own perspective.

I will also make references and meme jokes that nobody but me understands, and then I realize that I am referencing and making jokes out of my own thoughts, not out of something anybody else would be familiar with in the external cultural reality. Well, for a schizoid, there is no external reality, only the inner world, with outside information incorporated into it. Hence the problems with identity. I have no idea what is Me, and what is the Other. For me, there is barely any distinction, since everything is internalized before it is approached, and that which is not internalized, it rejected.
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No. 9760
Schizoids are detached from reality.
A schizo can cry imagining something sad happening in his mind, but then see the same scene, or worse, in person, and not feel a thing.

The more schizo you are, the more you wallown in your own, private brand of shit, and more incomprehensible you become. You literally fall into another dimension, a dimension occupied only by you. Like a microphone put directly next to a speaker, your thoughts feed on your own thoughts, with no outside stimuli, becoming more and more amplified, until they are screeching noise
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No. 9769
>>9760
If you wrote an essay or a memoir about your life, and in particular your experience with schizo disorders, I would totally buy it.
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No. 9778
98 kB, 640 × 480
>>9769
Thanks. Schizo existentialism is something I think about a lot.

Being schizo is a state of ultimate loneliness. Even if physically adjacent, one is never with or among people, only outside. Or rather, inside, with everyone else being outside. It's like a ten ton waterfall of TV static separates my mind from my body, and my body from the world. You can never truly socialize when other people simply don't exist as... beings. Just bodies, shapes, sounds, actions. Events are contextless, meaningless, following one another without cause or reason. It's a special kind of anxiety to be surrounded by a world that you can not give any meaning to. Everything seems so abrasive, empty, distant. You can never feel safe among others, because you can not reach an understanding of what they might be thinking about at any time. The cause of that is the inability to humanize them. And one who can't humanize others, feels inhuman himself. For to humanize yourself, means to look at yourself through the eyes of the Other, and see yourself human, as they would. (t. Heidegger). I suppose "humanity" in this case, would be "meaning" but applied to people. The ability to see something as more than their sensory presence.

So I withdraw to the inside, to where events have reasons, and words and images mean something, everything is connected some way (like during psychosis). Unlike physical reality, which is just a barrage of sensory inputs and series of events that go on and on without climax, conclusion or end. Contact with reality is incredibly distressing to a schizo. More than anything they hate intrusions into the comfort and privacy of their being.

Like that time when I was peacefully enjoying the smoke dancing up from a burning pile of leaves, and two old menopausal bitches enforced themselves into my awareness, uninvited.
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No. 9779
>>9778
Also, quote on picture is slightly related, but picture is not.

I don't feel sad over being detached, I just feel... detached.
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No. 9780
>>9778
>Unlike physical reality, which is just a barrage of sensory inputs and series of events that go on and on without climax, conclusion or end.

She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
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No. 9784
>>9769
He should write a book for how to avoid becoming removed from reality and schizo like that. If someone had warned me what happens by your early 20s when you cut yourself off from people and gradually live in a world different from everyone else I would have made sure to stay socialized and live a balanced life without fringe boards like krautchan filled with crazies.
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No. 9785
>>9778
>So I withdraw to the inside, to where events have reasons, and words and images mean something, everything is connected some way (like during psychosis). Unlike physical reality, which is just a barrage of sensory inputs and series of events that go on and on without climax, conclusion or end. Contact with reality is incredibly distressing to a schizo. More than anything they hate intrusions into the comfort and privacy of their being.

I disagree with reality just being inputs like in a brain in tank if you meant that. you probably don't so anyway.

But I can second the other things, I'm not a full blown schizo but I had my drug psychosis leaving its traces even after years now. Reality and dealing with the outside is indeed distressing. Since I'm on the edge I'm constantly drawn between cutting all contacts and fear of ending up lonely and weird(again).
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No. 14345
>>9785
>I disagree with reality just being inputs like in a brain
Indeed, because even if a brain was in a tank, the brain would still be able to infer the nature of the reality it exists in, since the brain itself is also part of that reality.

Kinda how ancient philosophers figured out metaphysics by sitting in a dark room and thinking really hard :-DDDDD
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No. 14346
Tbh, I find the idea of foreign comprehension spooky when I stumble upon the train of thought and go back down the bunny hole. It'd be nice to be imperceptible so I never have to deal with the fact that in a way there exist multiple independent yet layered incarnations of myself at most any given time, and that my self-observer is subjected even by itself to the constriction of definition instead of being able to simply be.
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No. 14347
>>14346
I find the idea and experience of a shattered mental existence fascinating, tbh.

It's like swimming in a sea of experiences, phenomena, ideas, without any rigid framework of concrete "realness" to bind and solidify them. Drifting perpetually through a sea of dreams.
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No. 14350
>>14347
It's an interesting concept to be sure, but it's a little spoopy because of how foreign it is. Almost like a state of waking death where the self evaporates and the self-observer enters a stream of consciousness unfiltered by the limitations of wetware.
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No. 14376
the family's house which is my home was built in the late 1600s. it's an old peasant's house and is bound to make vague, weird noises under certain conditions due to old wooden construction beams interacting with other building material. i don't perceive this as spooky though.
anyway, about ten years ago i was in a room on the second floor lurking kc and listening to music. while doing that i heard downstairs grandma working in her kitchen, pots clacking, doors getting opened and closed et cetera. basically the usual background sounds i'd get in that room at the evening. well, after a while i decided to go down to the cellar in order to get me some beer/alcohol, but when i entered the staircase it struck me that the whole house was quiet and dark, except my living room on the 2nd floor. i was alone, because my parents were on vacation and my grandma had passed away 2 months ago. grandpa was already dead since 10 years at that time. i don't believe in ghosts and supernatural things and never experienced something like that ever again, however it was a bit unsettling. i blame subconscious wishful thinking playing tricks with my mind, because i loved my grandma and was very sad when she died. i told about the incident my mom later and she told me that something similar occured to her once, namely hearing her grandma being present in the attic above her living room long after she had passed away.
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No. 14383
Someone once said that there exist very few ghosts that are actually ghosts, as in sentient, but rather just static after-images caused by strong emotion. Maybe same logic applies to all these "loud rooms with people but actually empty and dark!" cases
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No. 14390
>>14383
It would be pretty epic if there was something like that to be discovered and demonstrated.
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No. 14401
It is called the Shimizu ザー清水 in Japanese. Most frrgieneos don’t know about it but all Japanese do.I am going to share the secret with you.As you know, it is very difficult to gain entry into Japan’s top university, Tokyo University. So hard in fact that many people study several years at expensive cram schools after high school to pass the entrance exam. There have been well known instances of students ending their lives after several failed attempts at entry. Apparently back in the 60 s the last question on the last page on the last day of testing contained a question that stumped many a Japanese genius. The question was; how many liars are in a room when both people are being kind to each other ? Was this a trick question? A test of ethics? Is zero a number? Honne and tatemae relevant? These questions and many others went through the head of the now famous 19 year old Shimuzu san as he sat in the hot examination room back in the late summer of 1967. Japanese children to this day are taught to do the Shimuzu so as to not forget that young student named Shimizu and his failure to answer that question correctly and how he went on to end his life. Sad and alone. The next time you are asked to pose for a camera please do not forget young Mr. Shimizu. Everyone knows zero isn’t a number.
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No. 14406
I have heard countless stories about ghosts and djinn yet I havent experienced any of those myself.

Ghost stories here are developed from urban legends - those rumours that were developed before the email forwarding chains, were they developed from children's tales? I will never know.

I have heard about a story about a building in Alexandria, called the Roushdie building. It is a residential building that has countless stories about why does it have ghosts, and how if someone enters, they will be killed by ghosts. I have heard some hollywood-grade horror stories, starting from blood crosses being drawn on the walls to headless victims wandering around the building, smashing and breaking things to terrorize the - once then - residents of this building. All stories I heard about this particular building are your generic hollywood stories: block was built on a graveyard of mysterious murder victims, partner was killed in a quarrel...etc.

Also, my grandmother told me from her father that he once rented a different flat - also in Alexandria - in a first floor with a friend of his, he was your classic muscle man - those guys who look fat-ish but actually really, really strong. Anyways they heard noises and really did not care, then our hero went to the toilet and saw someone else sitting on the toilet and looking at him. They both ran and jumped through the window.

Also another djinn story I heard from a friend, one day they were driving on a desert highway somewhere I do not remember, and it was really dark but for the street lights that went suddenly blinking, the driver tried to play some quran through the cassette player to "drive away bad spirits" but the tape keeps on ejecting, and ofcourse there was no signal on the radio to receive the quran radio channel. They just kept on driving and reciting parts of the quran until they arrived safely.

Another tale I heard, someone I met was in his mandatory conscription service, and to his luck he was stationed somewhere deep on the Sinai border, and he remembers that it was winter in the middle of absolutely nowhere, so temperatures are typically around 0-4C with no central heating. He vividly remembers himself being alone and trying to sleep, and feeling really warm breezes and gusts of wind every now and then - remember, as he reiterated that he was alone that night, so it's not someone who was lighting a bonfire or whatever - then after long thought, he figured that it was djinn. So every time he feels this warm breeze he says his greetings and how he came in peace and means no harm. The warm breeze left him after a while and never witnessed such again.

Ofcourse, all of those stories might be true, or might be the result of boredom, or heavy doses of hashish or LSD. Who knows? But I sure had fun listening to those stories.
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No. 14447
>He vividly remembers himself being alone and trying to sleep, and feeling really warm breezes and gusts of wind every now and then -
Huh funny this is the first time I heard such a thing. Always we hear stories about people feeling suddenly cold, never warm.
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No. 14449
>>14447
As far as I remember, he was talking about djinn, as we (as muslims) believe that they're made out of fire, not mud and water like humans. Now we (as Egyptians) believe that djinn inhabit deserted and empty places and spaces, like his place on the border.

ie, sand magic.
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No. 14452
>>14449
I also was wondering how much Copts had influenced these stories, i.e. talking about seeing bloody crosses on walls.