The Word Cloud

Imagine waking up in the middle of the night and the first thing you heard is voices of people talking to you and criticising you from some place which is not within your room boundry.  The common name used for this sort of place where the people there talks for talking sake and act becuase they could not be caught doing it is the Spiritual world; astral world, Dream world, metaphysical world and the rest. but I still find it hard to refer to any of these names when i am refering to these spirit people and their world.  something still hasn't click  true to me and the right name to call them by just has not settle on the tip of my tongue.
Okay, like i was saying, a loud noise woke you up from your sleep.
"Hey! You get up. is it not time to rise up yet"
"You, get up"
"Get you"
"you are going to get up and go and go to the toilet" like it is not a normal thing and they have to tell me.
"Go and have a smoke" 
Alright, you still have not get it. These spiritual bodies had been with me for god knows now but the most recordable account is six years ago.   Then, I was finding it had to settle down into my writing after moving from London into Southampton.   my studio flat was packed full like wembly stadium with spiritual bodies watching me like they were watching Micheal Jackson last Concert or Andre Murray attempt to win the wembley tennis championship.
Unfortunately, now Micheal Jackson has to be hunting his neverland home;  I don't blame him, for that fame and fortune he deserve more than an ordinary life. and, in some way he did get it i mean, an ordinary person would have found true love and true heir.  Then, the shit is that Federara wins the wimbledon, i am well pissed.  Anyway, some people were glad and expecially these lots whom chose purposefully to like the things i hate wanted to know the things i know.  That is how life goes; in opposites and inverse.  when these thing with the spirit started some years ago, I was still an innocent christian believeing in the old religion as it was passed down from generation to generation.  I read the bible; i have been reading it since i was a tot but then i grew up on it to the point that i carry it on my own and read.  my best part of the bible is the proverb.   my move to southampton was a drastic move to survive and then the race start since then.  i have a dream but then, i have a dream killer whom does everything posible to kill this one dream i have.
"This guy is poor" shouted one spirit above me.
"He can not make money" replied the other.
"shout to the world, let everyone knows. said another
This time i was sitting behind my writing desk, i have been sitting behind it day in day out for the past one year until i finish this essay i was writing then.  still within this claustophobic atmoshpere of the spirit interfferance i countinued with my writing.   
"can't he go and get married and have a normal life" an old fiend ask
"look at the state of his house" another one said
"he is stupid" shouted on thin spirit.
 He look like a dry fig tree standing on its one tap root.
"power! Power! they started shouting.
"please give us power"
I have had enough of their shouting and blabbing i got up from my desk walk arond my room for while thinking of what next to do. Then i decided to take a walk into the city.  Not surprising they rise up with wings and twigs after me and shout all the way into the city.
"please give usd power to overcome our enemy" they begged to every other spirit they encounter along the road.
"please help us"
"what do you want" one woman spirit asked.
"we want to be more than this guy"
"why? she asked
"look at him, he does not have a woman or kid, he only sit down to read and write every day he thinks he could make million"
"but that is his problem"
"No! they exclaimed. He is not doing the right thing.
"but that does not have anything to do with you" she said.
"but he is not doing the right thing" they insisted.
"then you should go and do right thing"
"we don't want him to write again and get publish. you should come and see where he is living"
And so they argued on and on until the woman has nothing to say but to assist them seeing that it realy troubled them.  of-course, i can not stay and listen to all their arguement for too long; my psychic reception was not very clear, there were lots of interferrance on it.  But i could tell that they have been able to convince enough spirit bodies to come along with them because my flat was packed full with spirit bodies like a football spectators in the
stadium.  I suddenly take to act the role of john the baptise in the wilderness.
"what do you all come to see? I asked. " a prophet or a man sitting in his living room wishing for the sun to shine on him.  A fallen man or a rising star"
I paced tro and from the lenght and breath of my living room. 
"you would not be a start if i had anything to do about it" shouted a short ugly looking man.
 He looks like something left on the fire for too long before its' burning smoke and smell helped before somebody remembered and he was dugged out of the burning flame.      
 His height deficiency and ugly looking face and hard shelled body seemed to agree with his bulging eyes.  The eyes runs a marathon in his socket, it must be one of the reason he has no brain left. 
"when did you have sex last old man? I asked him
"Since the time I had you sister" he replied.
"God of mercy forbid. you are not my father so think again old spook"
Then, another one in the midst which looks like Ostrich  or  a Flamingo, i don't know which one he fit into most.  His two legs looks like a dead dry twig and his body seemed to cover his entire body at times when he fold his legs up.  Lord have mercy,  he is a little big old snake.  forgive me, but he is both big and small at the same time.  

To be continue...