30 March 2018 2 Comments

The Persian Witch

My tale is a modern taste, a sampling of old world magic. It wasn’t a story in a movie or taken from an exotic novel but one that I never imagined in a million years, that I would be telling.
Even though, I come from Gypsy blood, sometimes I have let me guard down and this is where this story begins. As a professional dancer, I knew better than to drop my guard but then, dancing for large crowds comes at a price especially when misunderstandings amongst dance friends takes a turn for the worst.
(Before I go further, I want to interject here, that I was as healthy as a horse before this incident occurred.)
I lived in Texas at the time and loved that there were so many restaurants to dance at, in so many different locations. I was one of the lucky dancers because I performed four nights a week. As an entertainer, it doesn’t get much better than that. If you aren’t dancing, you are dreaming of dancing. We become the symbol of
the eternal circle of dance.
On this infamous evening, I was preparing for my show and thinking more about my music, my veil work and my drum solo, which is normal for dancers in my genre. I had just started performing at this Persian restaurant and really loved the atmosphere. I found everybody friendly and when I would go out and perform, the audience would clap, dance along with me and express their enthusiasm with a zaghareet (a high pitched sound made with their tongues.)
On this particular night, I was a bit anxious but then, I was usually nervous before I went on stage so I just thought it was nerves. There was a larger than normal crowd because of the Persian New Year celebrations happening around town. This meant everyone was in a partying mood ready for the dancing to begin.
The announcer called my name and cheers and yelling could be heard from the crowd. The evening, which started with me twirling onto stage, amongst smiles, clapping and dancing, ended with me slowly seeing double, sweating profusely as if I had a high fever, fatigued beyond belief so much so that I had to end my show
early, run to the bathroom because I had something strange coming out of my nose.
(Read the next paragraph at your own discretion. It’s kind of explicit.)
I was bent over the wash basin with a substance coming out of my nose that resembled mucus but was much thicker and it was coming out of my nose like a running faucet. At first, I thought I was going to have to call an ambulance because I was so weak, almost passing out but after 15 minutes, the mucus in my nose started to subside and I just lay down on the bathroom floor. The manager knocked on the door, worried about me but I couldn’t answer. After about 10 minutes, I got up off the floor, opened the door and the look on the managers face was one of shock. He said, ”You look terrible! Go home!”
Something strange had come over my body and from that moment on; I became a very sick woman.
I felt as if something was inside me, eating me from the inside out. To be more specific, it was as if, I had some parasite in me that was feasting on my insides. My skin turned yellow in color within a few days and the slightest touch upon my skin, was pure agony. My dreams were dark and dismal. This was so unusual for me
because I was a vivid dreamer and could remember my dreams in detail. A particular dream repeated itself, with me being stuck in an old house, not knowing which direction to go, only to find that each door I ran to and tried to open, was locked.
My boyfriend at the time, wanted to take me to the hospital but I knew instinctively that something else was amiss. My intuition was on high alert and I knew that if I didn’t get the kind of help that I truly felt I needed, that I had only a few weeks to live.
I asked my boyfriend to call my mentor, Vee who was an African Priestess in Albuquerque, NM. As soon as he got a hold of her, she stated that she was coming out immediately, the next day.
The next day, he picked her up at the airport and brought her to our guest bedroom where I was sleeping because I couldn’t handle even the slightest touch or movement from anyone. Vee looked at me and started to chant as she lighted incense and sage. My room was filled with the mist and smoke swirling around each other and it was the first time I could literally breathe a sigh of relief.
Vee, made a horrible concoction made from different tea leaves that she brought with her. She insisted that I drink the stinky stuff, so I immediately declined but when Vee put her hands on her hips; I knew she was going to get it down my throat one way or another so I held my breath, and drank it down, gagging a little here and there.
What happened next, shocked me!
She than pointed a finger at me and started to reprimand me for not protecting myself. I lay in bed feeling half dead and she was berating me for over an hour. I knew she was right but I also knew that this was something that was way beyond me. I had no clue what happened and even more confusing was why someone would want to do this to me.
Vee, showed me how to keep myself safe and we went over prayers, incantations and meditations. She saw that my insides looked like a web and that something had torn it apart. More tea was in store for me along with spirit baths and sacred oils being rubbed all over me.
She stayed a little over a week but before she left, she told me something unbelievable that I would have to do. Vee said, it was evident that a Dark Witch had cursed me and that I would have to go and find out who she was and confront her!
My eyes popped out of my head and my mouth dropped to the floor as I emphatically said, “No!”
Vee, got in my face, pointed her long finger at me and made it clear that I had no choice. She said she couldn’t guarantee that this Dark Witch wouldn’t try this again. She said, I was lucky this time but what happens if there is a next time?
I knew that the one place to begin was back at the restaurant. I begrudgingly agreed with her, but I was scared out of my mind. Vee, knew I was scared so she made me a wonderful smelling fragrance of special oils, adding a secret and unique oil from her former mentor to keep me safe. I was to wear the oils whenever I danced and especially when I confronted the Dark Witch.
Within two weeks, I was back, ready to dance again, a little wiser and wearier for the wear. But I have to tell you, I had no idea how I was suppose to find this Dark Witch. It’s not like they advertise what they do and I knew they hid in plain sight just out of reach in the shadows. But as luck would have it, I didn’t have to
look too far.
Sometimes, when people do things they don’t feel good about, they tend to try to get it off their chest. As chance would have it, a dance friend, one that I considered a very good friend, confided in me, telling me that she had a Persian Witch put a curse on someone…
I know I had that deer caught in the headlights look on my face for a few moments. I then gained my composer and asked her, why on earth would she do that to someone?
She said, she was told by a tarot card reader, (whom she didn’t know well) that a dark haired woman was very jealous of her and was trying to destroy her dance career. The funny thing was, more than half the dancers in our area had dark hair. So I asked her, if she had a better description of this woman who had it in for her?
She said, no.
I just looked at her for a few minutes, my mind racing a mile a minute in bewilderment and then I asked her, who this Persian Witch was. She said she hung out at the new restaurant we were dancing at and I asked her to point her out to me the next time she saw her.
So without my dance friend knowing it, she was going to lead me right to this Persian Witch and with this knowing, a feeling of dread washed over me like a tidal wave. As far as my dance friend’s confession goes, after that, I couldn’t help but be very cautious around her but in the back of my mind, I always wondered why she thought it was me, the tarot card reader was talking about. That hurt the most.
The following weekend, we were both scheduled to dance and I knew I had to gather up all the courage I could muster up and prepare to confront this Persian Witch. I was a nervous wreck all week leading up to the weekend and when Friday finally came around, all I knew was that I didn’t want to get out of bed. I stayed
under the covers until late morning but finally decided do my meditations and focus on a positive outcome, not the one I feared.
Adrenaline does some interesting things to people, especially when they are scared. In regards to me, I flap my invisible wings like a hummingbird and I end up looking like I’m on steroids for dancers. By the time I drove up to the restaurant, I was exhausted, hyperventilating and I thought my heart was going to pop out of my chest. I was shaky when I got out of the car and I felt like I was walking on noodles instead of legs. Once I was inside and in the back dressing room, my dance friend came up to me and said, “She’s here.”
As fate would have it, I was scheduled to go on first which in the long run was for the best. I quickly got dressed in my dance costume, found my dance friend and asked her to point the Persian Witch out to me. When she did, my fears were confirmed. As if she was sitting within her own court, people were gathered all around her like she was royalty. She was very exotic looking, almost 6 feet tall with a Sophia Loren look to her. She looked like she had a cape on and with all the gold she was wearing, she looked like a Persian Queen. She looked over at us and had a very surprised look on her face. She didn’t expect to see me there or to see my friend and I together. My friend waved at her and so did I.
After my show, I changed clothes, put on an extra dose of the special oil, Vee made for me and I ventured out to meet this Persian Witch, face to face. I walked towards her table and she waved for me to come and sit down. It was strange because in one way, I felt honored to be sitting at her table and yet in another way I knew that she was dangerous and tried to hurt me.
“You look well.” She said.
“I was really sick a few weeks ago but I was lucky to have some help in getting better.” I said.
She looked surprised and asked me who helped me. I said matter of factly, “My mentor, an African Priestess.”
It was interesting how she reacted, because she looked me over from head to toe for a really long time without saying a word. The silence was very uncomfortable, so much so that I was just about ready to get up and leave when she said, “I think I was mistaken.”
If that was an apology, I will never know but one thing I do know for sure, that evening I confronted the Persian Witch and lived to tell the tale. I didn’t get in her face. It wasn’t about that, it was about me saying, “I’m here and I’m healed.”
After that, on the weekends to follow, she always invited me to sit at her table and without hesitation I joined her. But the strange thing was, my dance friend never joined us. I asked her to come sit with us, but she always declined. In the end, the Persian Witch and I had a mutual understanding for each other.

Interestingly enough, weeks later, she told me, “If you ever need my help, just ask.” I told her likewise.

“I have learned over the years, that when one’s mind is made up, this diminishes
fear; knowing what must be done, does away with fear.” 
Rosa Parks
30 June 2017 0 Comments

They are Coming, They are Among Us and the End is Very Near?

I have talked to many people (receivers) over the years that have had dreams or vivid memories of being told the end is near. They also hear, something negative is coming or it or they have arrived and are among us . All of these revelations leave the receiver of this information, not feeling good. They seemed to be confused and upset. It seems to disrupt their normal flow for several days. These type of dreams-memories seem to be on the increase over the last year or so. Is it because of the state of Gaia, or is it the Earth crying out and stressing out humankind to such a degree, it’s creating an unstable mind sync and hence resulting in these bad dreams and thoughts.

Another probability, is that Alien Beings are warning some of us of impending doom and to be prepared. The issue with this probability, is that I have been hearing this for 50 years from hundreds of alien contactees and nothing to the degree of these messages has happened. Although, maybe it is still coming as all of us sane people know something on a doomsday scale is coming from Global warming and probably sooner than later. Still in these types of visions-dreams, the disaster comes quickly and the destruction is total . Global warming is by comparison slow and not total destruction, millions will survive to start over.

One of the interesting ways the communication is made is through a trusted or known person, someone close to the receiver. I believe if the source is alien, this is a powerful way for them to convince the receiver that the content is real or at least needs to be considered. This would also give the receiver a bit of a visual comfort considering many aliens in their true form are less than attractive or in other words, they are damn scary looking.It may all come down to all of the above is correct. The Cosmos, Aliens and Gaia are all warning us to prepare, physically and mentally for a shift. The ones that do prepare and realize the truth, will be deemed worthy of saving as they have sorted out truths from lies.

Sleep Truth – be prepared the thieves will come in the night and they will carry no lies.
MWiz.

11 January 2016 0 Comments

Religious Visions of an Elusive Elucidation

warrior angels

Slowly, I wake up some mornings, feeling groggy, almost as if I never went to sleep. Where did I go in my dreams and why this time, can’t I remember anything? It’s either a slice of bursting detailed memories surging into my morning rouse or forgetful bits and pieces of blurry images and shadows that disappear before my eyes slowly open. Did I fail the task of bringing the images with me … again? I often wonder why my body aches with a knowing recollection yet my mind is a blank, confused mess.

Years ago when I was at the tender age of impressions and influence, two worlds that enveloped my perception of reality, seemed to collide in the dark and ambiguous night. Night is the cover of secrets, the unmitigated silence of whispering truths. The truth we all seek comes out at night, revealing its secrets in the shadows, yet it disguises itself before day break, fading into the sun’s luminous glow. Visions and dreams of the night before, merge into daily activities that seem to be of no consequence. It feels as if the encumbering night’s efforts are lost without hope and eventually forgotten by day’s end.

Religion plays a huge part in dream analogies because the faithful find it easier to follow indoctrinated assessments or answers already in-place, called tenet interpretations. Does the experiencer become a fantasist or a casualty of long ago foes fighting and playing out the legendary testaments between realms? Looking back as a child, I always felt that placing such impressions upon me was a particularly cruel and callous to a point, ultimately making my dream-state, a hellish nightmare. As the survivor of childhood visions and dreams, it often times felt as if Heaven and Hell were so preoccupied within their contentious clashes, that they developed into insensitive adversaries to the very souls for which they both wager such a high price for.

Even now, I occasionally find myself in the middle of warring adversaries, colliding into my dreams, giving me visions of an unbreakable and timeless rivalry. Unmistakably, I’m the link that binds them together as all souls are with unmitigated resilience and unintentional fortitude.

To remember or not to remember, which is worse?

We want to know what we can’t remember, and yet, there is a part of us that resists the truth, closing the door to elucidating memories that would unlock the all encompassing abysmal dread of the verity of knowing. Once we understand the signs, meanings and messages of dreams, we can no longer pretend that normalcy in real life can carry on. There’s always a responsibility to knowing the truth.

What can the truth be to a child experiencing religious visions or dreams? My memories from those unremitting and diverse shadows, swirling with hued colors in and out of my vision, resulted in me always feeling like I was spiraling out of control. I would spin like a top and the pit of my stomach would tighten up in knots, hands and legs flailing in the wind. The speed of my downfall would be lightning fast but the images below me always stayed distorted, small and the same. Something would catch me and then another image vague, barely visible with a finger-painting smudge and blurry outline, would explode into my subconscious, grabbing at me, manipulating my senses lifeless and inert. Within seconds, my slumber would be awakened by the sounds of wings fluttering and thrashing upon an imperceptible semblance of a humanoid image, bringing me back from my desolate and extreme despondency. The smell and closeness of fluttering wings would flood my senses with an aphrodisiac kind of ethereal delight. It was as if the air surging into my lungs allowed me to breathe in the essence of heavenly fragrances and scents from whence all things began, the timeless, archaic and rapturous breath of God.

These days, I routinely wake up with my heart pounding, confused at first as to where I am. Vague recollections emerge flickering here and there out of my drowsy slumber. Each time, these dreams or memories never manifest into complete and detailed recollections. My mind’s eye is a blank canvas, yet my aches and pains seemingly steadfast and resolute, appear to be my only reprove of my arduous tribulations. Sometimes the images or memories place themselves within my emotions, reminding my tangled mind that something did take place. This is all that I am left with. It never feels like enough. I imagine it to be like waking up at the end of a movie. The plot always seems to elude me so the ending makes no sense.

So why as a child did I scream out if the visions were symbolic of religious images that comforted me during the day? Interestingly enough, these religious images played a huge part into my already paranoid phobias because they secretly came to life in the quiet of my room but only when I was alone, waiting with an angst-ridden dread laying in bed. Why were the religious icons scarier than the all consuming night? Can it be that the malevolent darkness likes to play upon the very images that represent the envisaged sanctity of the faithful?

How do religious dreams impact our daily lives? I have always felt unworthy, perhaps hoping that through my vigilant belief that what I was a part of, would become the immeasurable and intrinsic elucidation of a remedial existence, connecting it to my own. If I am more faithful, with more conviction in my devotion, would the images unfold within my mind’s eye so that I could paint the vivid memories that have eluded me for so many years?

As a child and young adult, I felt as if my soul was stretched, molded and hung out to dry countless times only to be placed back into my body by mornings onset. My body became foreign at curtain moments, showing on my face most of all. As I looked in the mirror, my image would scare me at times because I didn’t look like me and I thought I was possessed. Sometimes the pain of a child isn’t felt in the body but more so in a place that becomes a sanctuary of inviolability, known as the resting place for the soul. When the soul unites with the body, it flies unwavering with the power of Heaven’s tempest winds, awakening the heart and mind. I am told this blessed place is inside the body but my experience has been, it is just outside the third eye, our beacon of illumination.

The religious visions and dreams stayed within my youthful naiveté because the impact was so relentless and incessant. Because of this, the observer, I call my empathic mind, to this day, impulsively complicates my desire for the truth. It manipulates the adult in me, requesting I hide away the slightest prospect of recovered images, preferring the convenience of self deception. Maybe I don’t want to remember the archaic discrepancies of the interminable light and dark encounters. It is obvious, that the blurry memories are smudged by my own fingerprint.

Today I am constantly reminded of the enmity between both sides. Such hazy images make me feel like a leaf caught between the convergent and divergent front lines of timeless antediluvian adversaries. In the end, what I do know is with each vision and dream; what element of life I am living in, is minuscule in comparison to the broad and limitless horizons of the immeasurable infinitude.

I often wonder why my flesh and blood has become my Achilles heel. If only my heart could open and unfold wings, then perhaps the contention of the diabolical beings could glimpse that my soul is more to the likeness of God than my body. My Seraphic mentors know this but they carry a heavy burden of responsibility by defending my flesh and blood image.

Obviously, my religious visions are derelict of elucidation for many reasons. Those immortals that wish to vanquish my place within the scheme of things only add to the long standing spiritual quandary. I do know that as I rouse in the morning light, those antiquated beings of a perpetual existence need not worry about me being a mere mortal here on earth. At day’s end, I am just the progeny of the Divine Source figuring out my place in the scheme of things just like everybody else. As the dreams and visions continue, hopefully one day soon, I’ll have the courage to remember what has been constantly elusive. It is my hope to one day; paint the archaic images in their perspective roles, fighting the eternal fight, recounting my excursions with my biblical mentors and their convoluted foes of antiquity

5 February 2015 0 Comments

Religion and the Abductee Experience

Religous 3

My private journey into the phenomenon of the paranormal and abductee experience was and is an isolated, complex, up hill trek that tends to leave me feeling vulnerable and exposed not only to the elements but to opinions. To be more to the point, I am speaking about opinions like yours, your friends and the public at large, yet here I am sharing my story with you. Am I a glutton for punishment, not really? This is just apart of my desire to see if anyone else, has had similar experiences, perhaps furthering my own exploration into the religious, abductee experience.

My religion seemed to add a twisted, exorcisty kind of atmosphere that made me think I was possessed or abnormal most of my childhood. The two worlds for any child can create a dysfunctional and skewed perspective concerning what reality is and what it will become. If I can levitate does this mean I’m an angel? If I see beings from above, does this mean they are from heaven? Most of these questions were answered from my childhood in the most basic to elaborate of ways. Who might I ask, could answer the questions that plagued me, especially if they didn’t understand the problems at large, the unequivocal intimidating type that molded and encouraged me to become a timid victim? Believe it or not, it was religion that was quick to answer me pointedly because in some peculiar ways, it played a role in my experiences.

Sorry, I’m not going to write about great experiences with the church I grew up with. I went to a Catholic school for the First grade, which played a surreptitious role in me being bused out a few days a week to a base and underground facilities where I grew up. I was warned early on that if I said anything to anyone, especially my parents, one of my parents would get hurt. What can a child do but believe that the adults scolding her, making her feel responsible are not only speaking the truth but making her a part of the consequences. I was tight lipped and proud yet I held on to a secret that no child should ever have to deal with. At age six, I was responsible for the well being of my parents, or so I thought.

This kind of responsibility leaves a mark; it’s like an emblazoned imprint on the soul because the mind of a child can only handle or empathize with what they are being told by adults. As time faded the mark of my censorship, the imprinted stigma stayed with me because the moments of responsibility took a toll on my childhood and in essence took away my childhood naivety.

It didn’t help that right around the time I was 13, the movie, The Exorcist came out in theaters. I thought for sure I was the object of some ill-begotten spirit. Night time was a panicky and heart palpitating occurrence, where I lived under the covers. I could always feel spirits looking down at me, just a nose length away from my face, trying to suck the breath out of me. I had two giant teddy bears on either side of me that did nothing but help me hide, from whatever I knew was in the room with me. I loved sleeping under the covers because they always gave me a false sense of comfort, a divided barrier that hid me from whatever was antagonizing my sanity.

Obviously the paranormal plays a role with abductees. In my case, with spirits freely visiting me at night, I also had to deal with the infamous … closet! It didn’t matter what house I stayed at, closets always symbolized the omnipotent, ethereal world that was black and empty. As a very young child, I knew vampires, witches and goblins lived in closets but after age five, there seemed to be something more sinister, lurking within the claustrophobic blackness. I have always felt that because of my interactions with the Greys, I have become more empathic, almost as finely tuned and observant as they are. This came in handy, when I felt they were near.

A sound can be just a sound to everybody else but as an abuductee, sounds are the introduction, the beginning of a dreaded dream that always seems to portray itself with the same characters, over and over again. In the end, the closet doors always opened slowly, creaking methodically and within my child’s mind, everything the blackness represented eventually came out to play. Sometimes, I would hear a voice, speaking faintly, its words lingering in my ear or was it in my mind. Either way, there were always two black eyes to go along with the ominous voice, I came to dread.

Sometimes even in the light of day, I saw strange things. I had a picture of the Virgin Mary that was on a wall by my bed. I would look up to her in the mornings for some kind of explanation for the previous night’s activity. Occasionally, I would think I saw a faint change in her face, and I would jump out of bed because my nerves just couldn’t handle another manifestation of either the paranormal or spiritual. For a child, even the most symbolic representations of religion, can become a daunting reminder of the unreachable, the unfathomable beyond that is heavy handed and unyielding. Sometimes religion can make God seem like a million miles away.

One Saturday morning when I was 14, I abruptly awoke, opening my blurry eyes. I had to adjust my vision because my room was brightly lit. On this particular morning, for some bizarre reason, I didn’t feel safe immediately after waking up. I was facing the picture of the Virgin Mary and as I was gazing up at her, from my peripheral vision, a shadow like figure darkened both my windows, and the face of the Virgin Mary started to drip blood and become distorted. I quickly closed my eyes and hid behind my big teddy bear. My door was closed so making a run for it, was out of the question. I subsequently opened one eye and tried to peak around my teddy bears left ear. To my relief, the picture of the Virgin Mary was back to normal again and my room was bright with sunshine. I thought to myself, did I just dream that or did it really happen? I jumped out of bed and ran for the door, deciding the answer wasn’t important.

Questioning oneself is the modus operandi for most abductees. A mark on the body is either a beauty mark or just a mark, even if it has a strange design to it. Finding clothes put on backwards the next morning, just means, we weren’t paying attention the night before. A strange gooey substance coming out of our private parts is a mild case of the flu, diarrhea or food poisoning. Waking up with strange bruises on our body, just means we knocked into something the day before, and didn’t pay attention. Bloody noses that are extreme, occurring on a daily basis, are explained as dry nose and common place. Finding ourselves outside our homes in the middle of the night, is described as sleep walking, even if all the doors and windows are locked from the inside. One clear observation that can be made, is that we are the most absent minded and obtuse people on the planet, especially to those people who are our critics, and the naysayers of our experiences.

When I was 18, I called upon a young priest who occasionally gave service at the church I attended. My experiences were getting beyond what I thought I could handle and I decided I needed some outside guidance. He was young, giving the appearance of being slightly innocuous, yet astute in his demeanor, I was uncomfortable and sweaty beyond belief.

Within seconds of sitting down, I literally spewed out my predicament, leaving nothing to the imagination. A long, torturous silence followed and I felt compelled to high tail it out of his office because I became horribly uncomfortable. He eventually looked up at me from closed eyes and said, “Pray my child and God will help you.” I stated that I did pray and the experiences still happened. He then said I needed to pray harder. I basically bared my inner most secrets to this man, thinking he would be my redeemer and to my dismay, he brushed me off with a safe and predictable answer. I left his office feeling foolish for even thinking he could help me.

I decided to go to see another priest (who was older) and prepared myself with a more resolute attitude, knowing he was going to help me and give me the answers I was seeking. To make a short story even shorter, within minutes of explaining my situation, I was asked to leave his office because he didn’t have time to deal with a paranoid and delusional parishioner like me. I left knowing that the religion I thought I could always count on, wasn’t there for me anymore.

The different times I did pray during an abduction experience, my abductors didn’t seem to pay attention to me or they ignored what I was doing. I realized that prayer is great for an abductees’ sanity after the fact, because it pacifies the nerves and serves as a familiar and safe haven. In order for prayer to work, we have to assume that ET’s have religion similar to ours and like us, they view God in the same way. If they are doing something terrifying to us, we can only assume, they must be malevolent in nature, opposite of our beliefs and that of God. If they don’t know God, how can they fear God. I remember thinking to myself years ago, that to assume my abductors followed society’s dictates and customs was just about as ludicrous as assuming they would ask me if I wanted to go with them instead of taking me against my will. I understood a long time ago they weren’t from here.

Growing up with an abductee’s state of mind was not easy, especially when high school became the mile marker that indicated that I was not like everybody else. Graduating from high school helped me feel normal because it seemed like a momentary way out or a reprieve from the abduction phenomena. Months after graduation, my nightmares and experiences became less and less and I “almost” lived a normal life.

The word “almost” is very important to remember here because it seems like the alien agenda carries within it individual timelines for each abductee. This can mean months, even years can go by with nothing happening and then all of a sudden … boom, with no warning, they start up again! The rollercoaster begins and it’s a ride that consumes the senses, leaving no room for normalcy, only the descent of questionable insanity.

In some ways, my abduction experiences tested my belief in God because if he existed, how could he let this happen. Yet, I have to say, something really interesting happened as I started to stand up and face my fears. I knew that being human was not only to my advantage but a blessing in disguise. I realized I was apart of something that was wise, venerable and sentient. This connection allowed me to see, that I needed to stand on the building blocks of my own convictions. This birth right which I call our fundamental foundation consists of 4 pillars that hold all of us up as human beings. They are known as, the emotional, spiritual, physical and mental pillars of humanity. The consequences of abductions, can wreak havoc on these pillars, tearing them down one by one leaving a person broken and fragmented. Once the human foundation is unbalanced, the three pillars by proxy, have no recourse but to carry the burden of the faltering pillar. This unbalanced condition can become so intolerable for abductees, that they react from a survival perspective based on fear rather then an analytical response based on faith.

I had to figure out a way, how to become whole again during these dark and confusing times. I realized that my faith was more then super glue, it was the rudiments from which my pillars were made. God created my pillars and because they were made by his blue print, I knew they could rebuild themselves back up. I also knew that it’s who I am in-between the abductions that matters most. The question of, why me, turned into, it does not define me.

Faith replaced the religion that I grew up with and it has been the one constant through out my life that has never let me down. Once I started to understand who I am, the abductions became less monumental in my life. This makes sense to me because I no longer feed the fear mongering monsters lurking in the closets; the door stays shut and if it opens, it’s because I opened it myself.

26 January 2015 0 Comments

The Milieu and Correlation between Doppelgangers, Twins and Clones

doppelganger

Sometimes reality and the truth of our perceptions, collide and what we are left with is fragments, a semblance of both, immersed into one another. A dip in a pool can send off shockwaves, alerting anything close by, that we are near, yet our very movement, changes the still waters of their existence. So it is with this thought of the constant converge and diverge of life, that I often wonder the, “what if” between doppelgangers, twins and clones. Have you ever wondered how they are all different from each other, perhaps not by much but enough to establish the definitive and unique peculiarities between them? Still, these peculiarities are the comparable qualities that connect them to each other. The question is, how are they defined by society?

The dubious shadows that are created within the mind, sometimes spill out into the transparent canvas of life, bringing its foreboding sentiments directly into our daily lives. Do dreams that wander in calling themselves memories, play a role in discovering the meaning of any said disclosure or are they remnants of jumbled recollections of daily life. Lurking in the midst of any imagination, is the conspiracy yarn that makes seeing double, a scary thing.

Funny, how we look to Hollywood to bring us our fears, desires and hidden flights of the imagination directly into our living rooms. What is intended as entertainment for the masses can sometimes include hints or clues into a reality that is beyond comprehension. Society can become its own perverted ambassador because we believe what is told to us within the numerous scripts of decadence and revulsion. Maybe, just maybe this is where the truth lies, hidden in a labyrinth of fictitious truths called, the unmitigated and disreputable, Pandora ’s Box. Is this where dopplegangers, twins and clones thrive or is this an attempt at showing elements of transgressions revealed … but by whom? Sometimes, Pandora’s Box can look a lot like the Rabbit Hole. They both can become an overlooked paradox, because they both offer similar temptations.

Can the mirror image of ourselves recognize the descriptive familiarity within the words, doppelgangers, twins and clones? I know my own reflection looking back at me, is for all intense and purposes me yet sometimes if I look too close at my own reflection, she becomes a blur.

Doppelganger
Years ago, I heard the word, doppelganger and I remember thinking it was just another weird word for a twin. There have been numerous movies done on this frightening, almost beguiling word because its definition means, an apparition or double of a living person. Do doppelgangers know they are doppelgangers or do they exist like us, thinking they are the original design for their soul? Are they us, in spirit form, simply our higher selves only better, wiser and indomitable? Alas, the question must be asked, are they immoral, seeking to take our identity into theirs, wiping out our very existence, making us an extension into nothingness? If there are two, usually one of the pair is more dominant then the other. Which would you be?

Interestingly enough, reality or truth acquired in science can hide itself within the confines of science fiction because there is room to maneuver and experiment within each person’s reactions, emotions and phobias. A trickle of the truth can be easier to swallow then a deluge of reality. For instance, the thought of a hidden, almost monster like double of ourselves, can create quite the stir inside us. If we are good does this mean our doppelganger must be bad? Maybe for some people, they fear their doppleganger is their comeuppance or deserved retribution for a mendacious and unscrupulous life.

On the back burner of a petulant mind, exhausted by fear, a question lingers, making itself home like an unwelcome guest. If the existence of a person could cease to exist, who would know the better? Included in this quandary, is the ruminating and foreboding feeling that family and friends wouldn’t suspect or know that the switch had been made. In fact, here it is, in science fiction form, a created movie plot; another “look alike” portrays a targeted person and their characteristics to perfection. The bloodcurdling realization for the victim would be watching themselves being replaced, yet isolated and hopelessly doomed from any assistance. Life goes on … without them. The bottom line here is, if society knew something could take its place without any hesitation, would that not be a terror beyond words.

The unsettling word, doppelganger’s origin is German, and hints of various portents of doom meant for any individual who sees themselves either at a distance or perhaps in obscure circumstances. Folklore says it can be a sign of illness or imminent death. An interesting example of a doppleganger in the 19th Century is Emilie Sagee, who lived in France. She was a school teacher at an exclusive girl’s school called, Pensionat von Neuwelcke. There is supposedly 13 student’s who saw her doppleganger appear right beside her as she was writing on a blackboard. It copied her every move but held no chalk. Emilie Sagee stated herself that she never saw her doppelganger but whenever it did appear, she felt drained of energy, and even her physical color went pale, a sign that it was near. I must ask then in this case, was her doppelganger dangerous? Could it have been a distant twin or a part of her soul that couldn’t be contained?

Twin
A twin could be considered a doppelganger of its sibling because in many instances people use the two words to describe one or the other. The obvious difference between the two phrases, is that twins are the flesh and blood consequence of child bearing. Doppelgangers seem to come from the ethereal world of the unknown.

Twin telepathy calls upon a different understanding, regarding their unique and shared relationships because of their intertwined supernatural abilities that have intrigued even the upper echelon of various medical fields. It has to be mentioned that one of the darker medical affiliations with twins is, Josef Mengele. In Auschwitz, his main study was twins even though he carried out a variety of projects with other groups. Mengele believed identical twins which shared the same ovum, could posses the same psychological characteristics and habits. Let’s just say, ethics went out the window because he had hundreds of twins at his whim and disposal.

An inmate doctor at Auschwitz stated that Mengele seemed to be something like, “the double man” who demonstrated human feelings yet commanded obedience and order. Perhaps, he was dealing with his own interpersonal doppelganger or envied the assumed abilities the twins seemed to share with each other. Never the less, death’s door was always close by for many of the twins. Josef Mengele had little patience when it came to his bizarre experiments and unfortunately for those around him, he showed very little humility and compassion.

This leads me to wonder what the difference would be between Josef Mengele and a clone. Their characteristics seem to be similar because both would be prone to serving a higher purpose without thinking about the consequences of the present.

Clone
The word clone to its benefit, has over 70 movies made up with various scripts and plots created to intrigue and scare the masses, but I also think they were all vehicles to get people used to the clone idea. Stem Cells are another way to create a mainstream push so that the idea becomes not only accepted but slowly integrates itself into daily life without anyone noticing. The idea of cloning in some ways, seems science fiction to a certain degree but there are projects in the dark arenas that have been playing around with this very idea for years. The end results are grey areas of a denied truth.

Let us glide down another tunnel within the Rabbit Hole that seems less traveled but only by people like you and me. Let’s talk about mind control for a minute. Mind control has become one of the leading radio show topics since super soldiers and whistle blowers have come forth claiming they are victims of various mind control methods. What would it take to make mind control a thing of the past? Would it be Aliens coming down from hidden and cloaked spaceships or bursting forth from underground in gravity defying vehicles with ray guns, directed at us surface dwellers. Well, that scenario or I should say type of movie has been done numerous times, so perhaps because the general public (you and me) are now aware of these illicit schemes, maybe those in the know had to change their tune and figure out another way to catch us off guard.

Perhaps this is where clones come in. They do as their told, they don’t complain and they get the job done. Mind control can be a bit messy because breaking another persons will can be time consuming and the end results aren’t always foreseeable. How many clones can be made of one so called person? Your guess is as good as mine but if this can be done, I am sure they can make a spare and possibly a third in reserve. So the obvious questions are, where does this place us as human beings and oddly enough if clones exist, where do they keep the clones in reserve?

Having a possible doppelganger is scary enough but if there was another clone of me, how would that work? Am I the blue print for the clone or would it be called an avatar? Would we think alike, have the same habits and mannerisms yet be different enough to exist in the same reality?
I know … so many questions but clones seem to be apart of the Star Wars or Blade Runner genre. Maybe this is where the idea of clones was first placed into society’s subconscious so that the very idea wouldn’t cause panic.

Today, clones are considered avant garde, apart of today’s idealism for progress and future proactive solutions to war and aggression, the industrial complex, space and whatever else you can think of. So which of the three terms makes the most sense in regards to future endeavors in scientific, sociopolitical or economic success schemes? The ripples of each word, leaves a slightly different mark on the psyche for most people. With technology changing faster then we can keep up, the internet and smart phones, it seems to me that the best way for anyone to meet their doppelganger, imaginary twin or sci-fi clone, is to forget their humanity and immerse themselves into the very gadgets that will eventually take over their lives. A scary movie can be a prelude into our darkest fears but then we can always walk away from a theater or video store knowing reality as we know it, awaits us, unchanged.

Obviously for most people the very reality in which they live, is defined by comfort, accessibility, consistent and unchanged routines and schedules. I have to ask, would this not be the perfect strategy in creating a society that depends on their alter egos and detailed profiles for access to family and community interaction without ever having to leave the house? The doppelgangers, twins and clones of society can be easily accessed at the click of any keyboard or button. Years from now, we may be living in a scary and shadowy world without ever having to leave our own homes. Perhaps we are the creators of our own Pandora’s Box and the Rabbit Hole we travel down is a computer screen that ties us into its multi layered sites, videos, promoting vices and unequaled desires for conquest with a self made character that has super human strength and mind altering abilities.

We can be checked up on or watched because everything that is related to any community oriented groups or chat rooms requires us all to create a password then sign in, in order to participate in the matrix. What if we gave away, willingly our individuality for a new world conformity without ever knowing the better. The doppelganger, twin or clone of our making is already beyond our doorstep but in our homes, comfortable just waiting for a click of a button. The surprise attack has already begun and all it took was easy access into multiple networks that not only encourages alter egos but insists upon them to gain entry. Ultimately, we have become the lead players in our own scary movie … your doppelgangers, twins and clones welcome you.

http://www.truthseekerhighway.com
http://www.cracked.com/article_20355_5-real-life-stories-twins-creepier-than-any-horror-movie.html
http://www.csa.com/discoveryguides/stemcell/overview.php
http://multiples.about.com/od/funfacts/tp/10-Amazing-Stories-Of-Twin-Telepathy.htm
http://www.bibliotecapleyades.net/ciencia/ciencia_mannequin01.htm