Looks like I'm not crazy, after all...

So, for starters, I've always hated the word "blog."

I'm Allan. Being a somewhat normal guy in his mid-twenties, I've never had the desire to chronicle my life before. But something big is happening. I'll get to that later; for now, I want to talk about that God-awful word.

"Blog" might be the most horrible word to come from the internet. It somehow manages to sound equal parts pretentious and what a swamp monster might say before it rips the head off the ethnic character in a Sci-Fi Channel movie starring Lorenzo Lamas.

Or maybe it's not so bad, and I'm just putting off the inevitable, the whole reason I started this thing. You ready for this?

As it turns out, I can move things. Without touching them. You know, with my mind.

I've spent a lot of time researching this and let me assure you, I do not belong on the fringe of society were these conspiracy theorists and general nutjobs reside. Up until last week, you might say I was fairly unremarkable - just another young guy working two jobs, chasing girls and wasting his life away in bars. I never believed in ghosts, aliens, snake people or telekinesis (or I wouldn't have, had I given any of these things a moment's thought).

It started out simply enough. Life, as it turns out, isn't like the movies, where these revelations come at times of great stress, usually with explosions and whatnot. I was laying on the couch watching TV when my cell phone rang. I had left it on the coffee table, well out of reach. A brief internal battle, laziness versus curiosity, ensued. Curiosity won, so I answered the call.

The conversation was nothing special (I can't even remember who it was), and it was several minutes before I realized that I hadn't gotten up to get the phone. The damn thing had come to me.

At first, I thought something was seriously wrong with me. Had I simply forgotten that I had stood up, walked the few feet to the table, and grabbed the phone? And just imagined the part where it flew, of its own accord, over to me? If it really happened, had it happened before without me noticing? Had I completely lost it?

It was a long time before I could gather the courage to find out. The next evening, I sat at my desk after securing the door as well as I could (a full laundry basket shoved in front of it), and placed a pen down in front of me. It felt ridiculous, but I sat there and stared at that pen for a full minute, willing it to move. Nothing happened. I was just about to give up when a different approach occurred to me - I focused on what the pen would feel like, were it in my hand. Suddenly I could feel it, even though I was sitting on my hands. I tried picking it up but it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. I gave it a little push and it rolled a few inches across the desk.

That's when it became real to me. The phone hadn't flew to me of its own accord; objects don't have an accord. It moved because I moved it.

Looks like I'm late for work again. More later.

-Allan