20 February 2018 0 Comments

Reality Rewind

It occurred to me, that for most abductees or experiencers, we have to take our lives and do an automatic rewind. We have to fill in the blanks, because of those abrupt slips of missing time, unknown people, unknown places and images that come in and out of our consciousness.   Anything can trigger a memory, a movie, and a phrase in a book or dialogue, a location or on the other end of the spectrum, smells, colors and sounds.

For me, certain animal sounds can just freak me out especially if I hear lions and tigers pouncing on prey, making those attack howls and bellows on TV. My psyche goes into a tailspin and I go into a massive depression, fraught with an irritability that makes no sense. It’s like I’m almost stuck in this place of a bottomless pit of darkness.

I get glimpses occasionally from my childhood memories, split second images, voices and animal growls that make no sense. From the kind of childhood upbringing I had, these images just don’t make sense. If I bring up questions regarding these memories to my parents, they look at me as if I lost my mind. Maybe I did, who knows…

Déjà vu, is a huge part of understanding these memories. I have been places and sworn I had been there before or have seen people in poses, clothes that looked familiar to me yet I knew I have never met them. A phrase will ring a bell and it will be familiar. It’s as if I am reliving something that already took place yet again, I know that I am living my life day to day. So how does something become familiar in the present that somehow is remembered? Is it reality rewind?

Memories can be borrowed, implanted or suggested especially with AI, mind control and artificial frequencies hitting our brains. How do we know what is real within our own reality or what is a semblance of something else? This is the million dollar question.

Within our souls, there is an inner sanctum that can’t be penetrated; it’s a wall-less, lighted array of brilliance that is an omnipotent existence. This sentient sanctuary for the average man or woman, by default has become a forgotten and desolate existence.  The sound of silence bellowing its unnatural call to deaf ears roars like a raging tidal wave, hoping that we become awake, remembering our place in the Universe.

Why did we trade everything for so little? Who convinced us this was better? How do we get back to our true selves?

We do this by, “Remembering who we are.”

I’m not asking for a hand out from some other living being, whether they be extraterrestrial or interdimensional, I am asking myself to awaken to the possibility of what I was and even more so, to whom I will become. It’s time to step up to the plate, rewind to the past so that we can fast forward to a world that truly is home and to a planet that we so richly deserve but more importantly, a planet that we take care of and in return, takes care of us. The time is now!

22 January 2016 0 Comments

The Haunted Age of Memories and Voices

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Part 1.
A while back I talked to my oldest sister about our upbringing growing up in a conservative household. We both realized that there were some things about our childhood that we had never talked about. I guess this is common in many families for various reasons. Scary things can be hidden and placed on the back burner of life especially when youth and independence is pushing itself past the doors of authority. We wanted to leave Albuquerque as soon as we could but it never occurred to us until our later years to look at why this was so.

Our recollections of the Catholic elementary school we went to with our middle sister are basically the same; lost time, blocked memories, fear and a constant anxiety on a daily basis. My memories of the halls of this particular school seem to fade into an elongated tunnel that usually gets darker each step I take. It appears that my memory confuses the underground tunnels of the local military base with the school because at this time I was bused out on a weekly basis. The memories blur together sometimes and pulling them apart is like pulling apart superglue.

We have realized that the Catholic school we went to hid unmentionables from our parents and one such memory comes to mind. I can remember being in the principal’s office with my mother. My mother scolded the principal for lacking in the ability to hire good teachers because as a little first grader I was not doing well, basically I couldn’t read. The principal told my mother that I was retarded (yes, really) and that it wasn’t their fault I couldn’t read. Little did my mother know that much more was going on and there was a reason why I couldn’t read.
As my mother talked in a very high pitched tone, the principal was looking me square in the eyes, cold as ever reminding me to keep my mouth shut. After all, the very parent they threatened me they would hurt if I talked, was my mother. Eyes cast down, I knew I was just like the trapped animals they hurt to remind me to be quiet. Even though my parents felt they kept us safe, they didn’t understand how underhanded and malevolent the principal was and the people who took me out of school at various times to the underground bases. It seems to be part of the program to keep the surface of perceived expectations infallible for parents so that the modus operandi can continue without fail.

Memories of blue busses and mountain entrances along with the anxious chatter of several children talking all at once, has stayed with me all these years. Sometimes I wonder if it’s all implanted memory or if it really did happen. As an adult, I have found some areas of Albuquerque have a dark and haunted energy to them. My memories have guided me to these areas and thanks to my visual recollections; they corroborate specific locations to profound and surprising detail. Maybe I am the one more haunted than the locations, how can it be any different.

Physical implications with living in a young experiencers bubble can come in all manifestations. There’s was nothing more embarrassing than the moments I wet my pants because my body would react out of fear from some unseen memory or monster. It could be at any time or place, on weekends or family outings. Instinctively, I remembered the locations of interactions or abductions and my body just reacted from those memories. I felt ashamed and remember to this day, at certain places, kids around me, laughing at me and my sisters walking me to the bathroom. I grew up baffled as to why certain locations would scare me so but I realized that Albuquerque was only culpable because I lived there .

As a child, if I woke up with strange looking pink fluid coming out of my private parts and on my underwear, I would throw them away, too embarrassed to even show my mom. As an adult the few times I have awoke with the pink fluid coming out of me, I instinctively hid it from anyone, again too embarrassed to say anything. To this day, I still don’t talk about it much.

The déjà-vu replays itself over and over again whenever I go back home to visit. Looking at each memory, it’s no wonder as an adult I replay the emotions over and over again. I have come to the conclusion that emotions heal at a different pace than that of the mind or body. Perhaps one day, when they are all on the same page I’ll go back home and the moment will be just that, a moment in time with nothing connected to it.