I had my first paranormal experience at the age of five. My last was three weeks ago. I became accustomed to this phenomenon by the age of eighteen although I have to confess that these events were - and are - never enjoyable. I've never understood why these things happen to me and to say that they stem from a psychological problem is complete poppycock. Perhaps these deniers who affirm it's all in the mind would care to interview the poor cat who had the misfortune to witness the same event in the bathroom as I did.
Right from an early age, I have been gifted with a strong intuition. I just seem to know things without the need to be told. The signals are quite strong and more often than not, they start with butterflies in the stomach. Are these feelings pre-cognitive or are they purely the result of a rapid fluidity of thought? The snag in definition arises when fore-knowledge of an unreported event is happening hundreds of miles away.
Dreams have always been an excellent source of guidance for me.
"For God does speak - now one way, now another - though man may not percieve it. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falls on men as they slumber in their beds." - Job 14:15
Writing from my own perspective, I find that the important thing to remember lies in not what the dream is about but the articles or objects contained within it. Woe betide the poor bloke who dreams of cats! Be it through jealousy or sheer spite, he can expect the acid tongue of some foul-mouthed bitch slandering him behind the scenes. For those ignoramuses who like to scoff, let me point to a famous quote by Hamlet: "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." Hamlet Act 1, scene 5.
Besides, I have nothing against skeptics. I smile; knowing it's their loss and not mine. Get yourself a Dream Dictionary and check it out.
I was talking to an elderley, Cockney, chap digging his garden one sunny day in Cornwall. The subject of flying saucers cropped up. He leaned on his spade, shook his head and blurted, "I seen a saucer!". I gave him the innocent open-mouthed look in order to elicit some more.
"Who's that guy on 'The Sky At Night'?" he asked, wiping his brow.
"You mean Patrick Moore?" I ventured.
"Yeah, 'im!", he replied. "D'ya know what I'd do if he told me that I was imaginin' things?"
"Go on - what?"
"I'd smack the guy right in the mouth!" - by this time he was becoming more agitated - "and if he shouted 'What did you smack me for?', d'ya know what I'd say?"
I was still feigning my innocence. "No - what?"
"I'd say 'I didn't hitcha'. You must be imaginin' fings!'"