Life as being a clairvoyant and clairsentience

A long time ago, back in the 1980s when I was a teenager living in London, strange things began to happen.

 

I met a chap at Trafalgar Square, and we had a brief chat. During the conversation, he somehow began to reveal that he was homosexual.

 

At the time, due to my lack of knowledge and understanding, I didn’t say much. I simply replied, “I don’t have much experience like you.”

 

The conversation ended there.

 

A few weeks later, I met him again near my house. To my surprise, he remembered me and waved.

 

I stopped my bicycle and greeted him.

 

“I think we’ve met before!”

“Yes, we have.”

“Do you live around here?”

“Yes, I do.”

 

Then, suddenly, I felt drowsy.

 

I leaned closer and whispered in his ear, “You should stop using drugs.”

 

I was convinced he was heading towards more dangerous substances.

 

“I understand your craving for them. I have cravings too – for chocolate.”

 

“Yeah, I can see that,” he said, glancing at my spot-covered face.

 

“But if you really feel the need to take drugs, I’d recommend sticking to weed.”

“Do you mean marijuana?”

“That’s right. Avoid stronger drugs – they’re there to destroy you. They’re demon-given, and I wouldn’t recommend them to anyone. Marijuana is different; it’s heaven-sent and should only be used as a painkiller. Cocaine and heroin are killers.”

 

He listened to me intently.

 

Then I noticed something else.

 

“You use your voice like a preacher – influencing and inspiring so many people. You must be famous, but I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are.”

 

He mentioned he’d appeared on some television programme.

 

I had to go home, but before leaving, I asked his name. It wasn’t an English name, and it sounded complicated, but I managed to remember it. It sounded like “Yeoryrus.”

 

I told him my name, and we parted ways.

 

A few weeks later, I was chatting with a close friend at school. He was a close friend, and I was attracted to him somehow – he was a sweet person, but I didn’t make much progress, as I heard he considered me a lesbian and sometimes treated me as a substitute for his ex-girlfriend. This made me unsure of pursuing anything further with him.

 

On that day, somehow, we ended up discussing future marriages. I learned that he had a fiancée but wasn’t yet engaged.

 

“What’s happening with your fiancée?” I asked.

 

“She’s right in front of me—” he began, but I cut him off mid-sentence.

 

Feeling drowsy again, I started speaking about what I could sense or see.

 

“You will  marry someone who is half British, half European. She’ll have pale blue, slightly greenish eyes. She won’t have dark hair.”

 

“Like K?” he asked.

 

“Not quite. Her eyes are pale blue but slightly greenish. And you’ve already met her.”

 

“So, when will she choose me?”

 

“No, YOU will choose her. And she will accept. You’ll have a child together.”

 

He looked at me, slightly baffled.

 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said this,” I muttered and walked away.

 

The scene I saw was he was extremely intimate with his wife, having sex, and his wife was looking me directly in the eyes, saying, “Go away.” After this, they were holding a little baby. I wasn’t sure if the baby was a boy or a girl.

 

The next day, word spread around school that I had clairvoyant abilities.

 

Another friend approached me and asked, “What can you see for me?”

 

I lowered my gaze and, using my third eye, said, “You’ll live in either Northern Europe or North America – I’m not sure which. It will be a small town, perhaps half the size of London. It’ll be very clean, with green and greyish buildings. You’ll work helping desperate people – preparing documents or something similar. You’ll have a family with a fair-haired wife.”

 

“Will I have children?”

 

“Yes. You’ll have one child. If your wife doesn’t experience a miscarriage, you might have two – but it’s a 50% chance.”

 

Another person came up to me and asked if I could see anything for them.

 

This time, a strong, complex vision of their life flashed before me.

 

“Your life will be very complicated, as I can see now. All I can say is, follow your heart, and things will work out.”

 

This was the start of a long journey of clairvoyance and clairsentience, which I’ve kept mostly private until now.

 

When I returned to Japan from England, I resumed my education in Tokyo. Tokyo had many places I disliked visiting and people I didn’t want to meet. They had terrible vibe. I never wanted to go to the places like Shinjuku or meet some of the terrible men visiting our university as staff member of Enlish drama competition. One of them had trrible vibe all the way through, and he stalked me for 3 years in row.

 

Years later, my clairvoyant and clairsentient abilities returned. A friend, who later became my boyfriend, once asked me to foresee his future. I described what might happen over the next five years. I even sketched a picture of his colleague, someone I’d never met, yet my friend recognised them.

 

One day, as I looked at my boyfriend, I saw a woman sitting on his lap. She was a spirit, deeply in love with him. She clung to his neck and glared at me. The sight was so frightening that I avoided him that day.

 

After breaking up with my boyfriend, more unusual occurrences followed.

 

I began encountering spirits who didn’t realise they were dead. They wandered around me, and I helped them understand their state and guided them to move on. Some were resistant, refusing to accept their deaths, making the task quite challenging.

 

Over time, my role shifted to guiding spirits ready to ascend to heaven. Many were small children – miscarried or deceased shortly after birth.

 

Now, my work is much simpler. These days, I assist only two or three times a year, mostly around Halloween, the Japanese Obon period in summer, or the Ohigan period in autumn.

 

These spirits are often babies seeking love they never received. They stay with me for a couple of days, cooing or crying, and I give them all the love I can before they move on.

 

Being clairvoyant and clairsentient hasn’t been easy. Dealing with spirits who didn’t understand they were dead was the hardest part.

 

Thankfully, I no longer have such heavy tasks. Yet, every year, wandering spirits appear, and I’m happy to help them find their way to heaven.

 

I believe there are many people like me worldwide. To all those who guide wandering souls to where they belong, I hope you continue your work. Let’s ensure these spirits find their peace and rightful place.