Hello my lovelies. I do not consider myself a big believer in things. Bigfoot, Nessie, God from the Bible — they all fascinate me, but I don’t think they exist today.
I am also not so bold as to think I know everything. I may act like I do, but that is just so I can keep my standing in the asshole community.
I honestly hope that a lot of the things I don’t believe in are real. Unicorns, fairies, dragons and magic sound so cool, and there will always be a part of my brain and heart that insist they exist — even if that part is only .00000001 percent.
So that brings us to ghosts, communicating with spirits and the afterlife. This is where my belief percentage goes up ever so slightly.
Do I think that Teresa Caputo and “mediums” like her are mostly full of shit? Yes, I do. But I’d love for it to be true. Once again, I know I don’t know everything and am mostly a sceptic, but I still have a miniscule percent of belief or, at least, a “want” to believe.
I do not believe in Heaven or Hell. And if your belief in Hell and eternal damnation are the only reasons you try to be a good person, then you are probably a shitty person with serial killer vibes to begin with — in my opinion, of course.
Most of me believes that when you die, that is it. That’s why I think we should make the most out of our lives, today, while we can.
A big part of me believes that we are all energy, and, when we die, that energy moves on and continues. The how, where and why — I have no idea about that. But there is hope, and there is some science to back that up, according to the laws of thermodynamics.
But then we have dreams.
Dreams fucking fascinate me. I have had dreams I have awoken from and, for a few seconds, I swear I know the meaning of life or the secrets of the universe. I have had dreams that are so vivid and detailed that I am convinced that I have just caught a glimpse into another dimension or another timeline of my life.
I have dreams about my life, but it’s not my life. It’s similar, but at the same time, completely different — lives where I am still close to the people I was close to as a kid, and all of the memories that go with that life.
Most of them are not dreams of what might have been or what I hope would have happened; these are something completely different — new, completely original events happen that do not feel like thoughts that came from my brain, things so far from any thought I have or ever would have.
I know I sound loony and like I watch way too many movies, but it totally feels like I am seeing and feeling things that another James Love has been through. Some are completely awful and so fucked up; others are pretty awesome. But most are just boring days in the life of another me.
Does anyone else experience this? Am I just flipping channels in the multiverse of me? The worst part is how quickly my mind forgets what just seconds ago were the most detailed and strongest emotions I have ever felt. Crystal clear details and feelings evaporate like a morning mist.
I also have dreams of my grandmother, Christine. She died when I was in the sixth grade.
She was my favorite person that has ever existed.
At the time of her death, I was sitting in math class at Richard Lagow Elementary School. It was a beautiful day, and the windows were open. A breeze blew in, and I could smell my grandma. It was a mix of Virginia Slims cigarette smoke, bacon grease and roses. I knew in that second that she had died, and a sadness hung on me the rest of the day.
When I got home from school, my mother asked me and my sister to sit down because she had something to tell us. I told her “It’s Grandma, isn’t it? She died.” She was shocked that I already knew, because we didn’t even know she had been sick. Her face confirmed what I already knew.
The dreams I still have of her are all very much the same. I am sitting at her kitchen table drawing, like I did every morning at her house, while she is making breakfast. We are just talking, but I always have a big dilemma, or I am at a crossroads in my life that I need advice from her.
I had this dream when I was trying to decide if doing drag was the right path for me, and she encouraged it. From a very young age she told me — and the rest of the world — that I was going to be a star and always pushed me towards the arts.
I dreamed that dream when Jamie and I first got together, and I asked her advice about him and relationships. That dream is why we are together today.
I absolutely feel that those dreams are real communications with my grandmother. Does that mean I believe that I am communicating with the dead? I guess it does. Could it be that our communications are just synapsis firing and random chemicals in the brain? Yes, absolutely.
But maybe that is all belief really is.
Who knows, but in the words of the poster on Fox Mulder’s wall: I want to believe!
Remember to always love more, bitch less and be fabulous! XOXO, Cassie Nova
