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Why do ghosts slam doors?
I’ve always wondered… why do ghosts slam doors?

I mean, I don’t slam doors.  I don’t really know anyone who slams doors.  Isn’t that more something someone does when they’re seven years old and just got grounded for pulling their sister’s ponytail?  Or pissy, entitled teenagers who don’t understand that they aren’t adults yet?  Am I really supposed to think that all ghosts are the spirits of ‘cash me ousside’ girls?

Also, why can we hear them walking?  Why don’t we ever hear them doing anything else, really.  Well, aside from slamming doors.  Why don’t I ever hear a ghost sit down in a desk chair and wheel it back and forth, like I do when I’m writing and stuck on the wording of a particular phrase.

Hmmm… a spray of black, putrid blood?  Black, viscid blood?  Ooooh!  Putrid viscid blood.  No, that’s just stoopid… it makes me sound like someone who just discovered…

; )

Why don’t we hear ghosts moving shower curtains, or opening refrigerators, or doing jumping jacks?  Now, that’s an interview I’d like to see on one of these paranormal shows…

'Me and the wife were watching Trump on the TeeVee speaking some truth and suddenly we heard the sound of jumping jacks upstairs.  You know, all kind of rhythmic and ____.  And I figured it must be immigrant children, as our Suzy was away at college.  So I grabbed my Remington semi-automatic home protection rifle and ran upstairs, but there was no one there!  It was ghosts, I tell you.  GHOSTS!'

Now, I believe in ghosts.  In fact, I believe I had two ghost friends not long ago… two small children who resided in the bar where I worked.  Or, at least, that general area.  But they never threw things around or slammed doors and these were the ghosts of children, who might be expected to occasionally slam doors and throw things around.

So why is there this persistent mythology around ghosts doing all these things that are easily explainable through mundane things, like an errant draft or the foundations of a building settling?  Why would a ghost knock a vase off my desk to get my attention when there’s a perfectly good pen and notepad right next to it?

I realize I have a whimsical nature.  For instance, sometimes I wonder how ghosts talked to people before electronics.  I mean, did they have to wait for a lightning storm and then shout into the thunder in the vain hope of producing an EVP?   I also sometimes wonder why all ghosts are people who died in the Victorian era.  I mean, was there some kind of weird spiritual energy thing going on in the 19th century that we didn’t have the technology to monitor?

Oh, crap… was it the Rapture?  The 20th century was certainly the bloodiest of them all, with ongoing genocides across the world.  Are there exactly 144 thousand ghosts haunting the rest of us? 

Now, that is a thought that’s going to keep me awake tonight…

Anyway, this may seem a whimsical post, but I’m actually quite curious… it’s just the author in me trying to keep things entertaining.  Ghosts fit perfectly fine into my belief system but there should somehow be a logic to it all, don’t you think?  Some sort of structure or set of rules.  I mean… cold spots.  Why?  Tell me the steps it takes to get from ‘this area of the house is cold’ to ‘there’s a dead person next to me.’  I’m sincerely interested, I'm open minded and I'm ready to learn.

8 )
[Image: Newest%20Signature_zpsegrtkw8d.jpg]
Aside from how easily a breeze catches and door and blows it shut and how common it is (especially at my house) for doors to not latch and get blown open again...

Those that believe might point out that a door is very easy to move on it's hinges by exerting a tiny amount of force.

Subject: I have a black cat.
Believer: Black cats are bad luck.
Non-believer: It's just a cat.
Crackpot: Black cats are part of the New World Order government conspiracy.
Skeptic: I can test if black cats are more or less lucky than another cat.
Cynic: You only have a black cat to gain power and prestige.

(06-06-2018, 10:53 AM)Darkforeboding Wrote: Aside from how easily a breeze catches and door and blows it shut and how common it is (especially at my house) for doors to not latch and get blown open again...

Those that believe might point out that a door is very easy to move on it's hinges by exerting a tiny amount of force.

I agree. Often, the doors in my house do this when opening windows, it's like suction. I think it's something to do with air pressure.
[Image: laughing-cow_300x300.png] 
"Gratitude is a sickness suffered by dogs." - Joseph Stalin
If it’s paranormal they are trying to get your attention.
I agree with DFB. It's quick, easy, and spooky. Though, I'd argue a slamming refrigerator is a lot cooler.  Small Skull
 The woods are lovely, dark, and deep. And I have promises to keep. Miles to go before I sleep.
What soap is to the body, laughter is to the soul. * Sunny Peach Blog ミ☆ 
~*~*~Psych Butterfly~*~*~

(I originally posted this on another thread, but here it is again. A door-slamming account that makes no sense but scared the bejeezus out of me...)

The apartment block where I grew up is in Queenstown, Singapore, built in the 1960s over a Chinese cemetery. Mum still lives in the flat on the 7th floor, at the end of the corridor partitioned off by a security gate. A collapsible metal gate guarded the front door at the time, leading straight into the living/dining room. This corridor space between the two gates was the general all-purpose area for hanging up laundry and depositing footwear before entering the flat.

I was taking down the washing at midday and being in a rush, didn’t secure the latch that propped open the front door. The door usually stayed open; it had to be shut with some force to engage the self-locking mechanism. Then I heard a clattering, like something had fallen over inside the flat. There was a sudden gust of wind from the kitchen window out the back, rushing through the flat and out the door. It grabbed the heavy front door and slammed it shut.

BHAAM! The door locked immediately.

– I was trapped –

I couldn’t go out, nor could I go back inside. This was before the mobile (cell phone). It was Saturday, the rest of the family were out and the neighbours weren't home. Even if a neighbour were to get a locksmith to turn up promptly (very unlikely), I didn’t have the money to pay him.

The seconds slowly ticked by, stretching into minutes. An hour must have passed. A gecko lizard or “cicak” sounded a warning chirp from the balcony wall. It seemed to be getting quieter. The other flats should be teeming with activity being the weekend. People would be coming or going from their flats. Children’s voices should be heard. But the sounds from the world outside now seemed to be coming from a distance. It was as if my ears were being stuffed with cotton wool. I could hear ringing, particularly in my right ear.

The air was hot, stifling and very still. The ringing in my right ear was suddenly deafening.

What was that? Something dark just streaked into that corner. A wisp of shadow? There it was again. My eyes must be playing tricks on me. Maybe it was one of those nasty roaches. There was nothing to worry about.

My heart rate began to pick up speed. I felt uneasy. There was no logical reason for it. After all, there was plenty of light all around. The flat was in an apartment block surrounded by hundreds of people. The sectioned-off corridor was fairly spacious, well-lit and airy, not likely to cause anyone to feel claustrophobic.

Yet I felt trapped and helpless and soon to be at the mercy of – what on earth was I freaking out about? I was about to start screaming in hysterics. I felt there was only one choice left for me: it was fight.

I pulled a stool over to the window grille that was beside the front door and studied the logistics of unlocking the door from the outside. The window frame had metal louvres for ventilation; with the area closest to the door knob fortified by intricate metalwork. I looked around and spotted a wire coat hanger. That would do the trick. I straightened out the wire hanger and reshaped it, leaving the curved hook at one end. Thankfully, my hands were small. I could wiggle and twist my hand into that narrow space. Then I hit a snag, the metal louvre. By now, I was absolutely certain I had to get out of there.

Maybe it was an adrenaline rush or a boost from an unexpected source. I forced my way past the metal slat of the bottom louvre. That thick piece of metal buckled into a vee and allowed my right hand to slip through with my wire hook. After a few attempts, I was able to catch the door latch and release the deadbolt. With my other hand, I caught the door before it could slam shut again.

Grabbing the all-important house keys, I unlocked the outer gate first before shutting that dratted front door behind me and got out of there. I only heaved a sigh of relief when I stepped out of the building.

When I came back that night, Mum told me I had bent the metal slat so badly that Dad couldn’t even straighten it up again. The window louvres had to be completely replaced. I couldn’t explain to her how terrified I’d felt. I was already eighteen at the time, too old for night terrors and other weird happenings. Wasn’t I?

I’ve told myself it was just a panic attack. But the thing is I’m not prone to panicking, particularly in familiar surroundings. Since then, I’ve been at the scene of two armed hold-ups in Sydney and have kept calm enough to get safely away and call the police. Once, I have talked my way out of an attempted mugging. During those occasions, my thoughts have stayed calm and crystal-clear.

So why do ghosts slam doors? To get our attention, cause mischief and create fear. Maybe for entertainment. Or they somehow derive some benefit from the fear-driven energy. Whatever the reason, I still don’t feel entirely comfortable in that flat at Queenstown whenever I return to Singapore. I could never think of it as “home” the way I did with my Grandma’s house (and that was said to have been haunted). Go figure. Blueoh
There's life...and then there's the afterlife.
I don't know ghosts that slammed doors, never found any tbh, and I don't know why they do that.

But I know of something that 'opened and closed the door and then locked it up'.
It was some long years ago, and it was late at night. I was still sitting on the couch in my living room, facing the front door, busy with my own thoughts, because I wasn't sleepy enough to go to bed, I'm a night owl afterall. Besides, I've just had a big jug of my favorite strong black coffee.
It was that time that all of a sudden I heard the front door (which was practically in front of me) 'opened' and then 'closed' again, followed with the sound of somebody - or something 'locks' the door up. All the while I saw with my own two eyes and pretty sure that the door was actually closed and securely locked.

Well, I know it's not something you can find (or hear, literally) everyday, so feel free not to believe me if you want, but I've been living with things like this almost my whole life Big Grin
That's a spooky thing to happen, MaCan. I've heard something similar once. This woman said that the only thing she could think of was that her grandmother had passed away recently and her gran had been the one who locked up the house at night. She thought it could have been her gran coming back for a final visit and checking to see that everything was secure before she moved on. Strange, but comforting.

I just thought of something else about door-slamming. If ghosts by definition are incorporeal entities, what do they need doors for? Can't they simply "poof" into the room or waltz through walls? Why are they bothering with doors in the first place?

Which brings me back to my theory that it's an attention-seeking stunt. Or simply to scare. Whether out of playful mischief or malice, who knows? Icontexto-emoticons-10-032x032
There's life...and then there's the afterlife.

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