So, I have a question for you all. I sometimes wonder why I do the things I do. And sometimes, after I do them, I wonder what the hell is going to happen to me because of it. Not always mind you, but the following is a good example. I live in the village. I am fairly normal, have a girlfriend and baby and mostly do normal things. Once, I went to Bangkok to purchase some gold. While I was up there, I did some light shopping. I bought a cool rechargeable flashlight (the kind you plug-in); an expandable baton; some brass knuckles (although they were steel not brass); a black backpack (say that 10 times fast); 2 fairly large knives; a toy 'air-soft' pistol that shot pellets (looked very real); a tactical baseball hat and this neat black plastic mask. This mask was sort of a Halloween mask, which in my opinion resembled the one from the horror movie 'Halloween' Michael Myers I believe. Just kinda looked like an expressionless man's face. You may have seen these for sale.

So, I promptly lost the hat while riding on the back of a scooter while en route to buying more underwear. I stayed at the border casino and started winning and ended up there for 9 days. Ran out of underwear. The backpack turned out to be a piece of crap and the zipper broke. I had it repaired and gave it to a kid in the village. The pistol worked well, and I even shot a hole in the steel roof of my house from the inside. I really didn't think it would put a hole in it but it did. It then sat around for a few months, and then I gave it to my girlfriend's little brother who shot all the pellets in one day.

I carried the knuckles around for a while but ended up giving it away to my friend Roy because he bought me some beers. I ended up giving away one of the knives to my friend Mike because he only had one arm and I felt he should have it, just in case.

I still have the baton, one knife and the flashlight (or lit lit as my girlfriend calls it). The mask just sat around, I don't even know why I bought it to tell you the truth, it wasn't like I planned on wearing it anywhere... well, ok, I won't lie, I thought maybe some day I might have problems with the natives and might be forced to defend myself with my machete. The idea was two-fold. If I came out at them with the mask on I would get the shock-and-awe-surprise advantage, and also protect my identity... just in case. Never had to use it, and got sick of looking at it.

So, one day I'm grocery shopping because I like to do cooking classes from time to time for the kids in the village. Mostly I just cook and they watch and eat. That day was basic garlic, onions, soy, chicken etc. After the meal I had two small red onions left over that were not used. They sat around for a few days. One night after a little puff-puff, I took the onions and jammed them into the eye sockets of the black mask. It was friggin freaky looking. Just take my word for it. Big bulbous red eye balls sticking out of the mask. It was meant to be, or so I thought, in my semi-altered state.

Anyway, I have this big open-screened window in my back-room which sits under a fruit tree. I have barbed-wire strung across it in a square mesh for protection, and that night I thought it would be a good idea to stick the mask on it from the inside, as if it were a person looking out the window. I thought, what the hell, if I have a burglar or something maybe it would scare him off like a scarecrow. I was in a semi-altered state remind you. My girlfriend did not approve.

A few days later, I came home to her bitching at me. Apparently the old lady with the water buffaloes was out picking fruit from the tree and turned around and saw the mask. I guess it really scared the shit out of her. The mask was really scary, honestly it was. It even creeped me out with the onion eyes. I never did hear anything from the lady, but from what I was told, it was quite the local event.

So a week passes, and I drive home again, and just as I enter my house I hear a "SQUAWK!" ... I looked over, and just as I got to my house, my neighbor choked his chicken. You know, strangled it, or whatever the hell you call that action... it probably has some technical farm name of some sort. He kinda grinned at me. I get along fine with all my neighbors, but this struck me as odd. I have never seen him kill a chicken before, and the timing was unusual. I dismissed it, went inside and later came out to buy a soda or beer or whatever, and then saw it.

Someone, I don't know who, smeared what I assumed to be chicken blood on my house. I also found a pentagram scratched in to the stucco. I was taken aback. It really got me thinking. I didn't want to over-react but the whole thing now started to look like some voodoo ritual or something. I got a little concerned. I wondered if this had anything to do with ol onion eyes scaring the buffalo lady.

It was on my mind. That night I went for a walk. I don't remember if it was one of the Buddhist holidays, but when I approached the village temple the drums started. Boom....boom...boom. We all have heard them. The closer I got the faster they would go. What the hell? I thought. Now I was getting paranoid for sure. When I passed the temple it got even faster: boom boom boom boom then it stopped. Usually during a holiday you hear those drums for days on end. This was the only night I heard them though.

So I got the kids to wash off the chicken blood with the hose and I got the pentagram off the house and there were no more drums but this incident always has been stuck in my head. There was never a repeat of any of it. Was I cursed? I am being paranoid? Were they exorcising my demon for my benefit? Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Before you ask, no I don't know if it was chicken blood. I can't tell different blood types apart, but I had associated it with the chicken, and my knowledge of voodoo witchcraft alluded to the possibility. I have always been told that Cambodians were ultra-superstitious.

Help?

puff puff was weed. I dont do that meth crap.

Ever thought of writing a novel.

I believe I just might sir. I am trying desperately for someone to give me the opportunity to recount my ghost story. It's already written. I'll wait a day.

they don't use pentagrams here.
they do kill suspected sorcerers though

hmmm... interesting. I had wondered that at the time. Now I wonder who the hell put that there. Maybe a kid? Maybe not a pentagram? Maybe just a star from a kid screwing around. It was the exact same thing as one though. Hoping this is the coming together of coincidental unrelated things that I have overthought. I feel better now.

Post a photo please


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