Paul Schroeder
A compendium of experiences with greys and my journal.
Copyright © Paul Schroeder
On Friday night, at 11:30, I lit a prayer candle and prayed to the spirit world. I asked Easter Lily Fryer, a beloved, baby-nurse to help me. She was a loving black woman who had cared for my babies years ago while I was at work. She succumbed to breast cancer some fifteen years ago. I fervently pleaded with this life-long devout Christian to send me Jesus, the Christ. I reminded her that she had known about Christ all her life as a Christian. I had only recently accepted his spiritual possibility, on faith, and only in recent years -- by virtue of the power of his name to dispel unseen evil ones. But that's another story.
The following Sunday afternoon was Easter Sunday. As the sun set in baffled light through the maple trees in the late afternoon, a song rang in my head. Leaving my house, through the back door, I felt strangely compelled to sit on my front steps. This is something I never do. At first. I couldn't place a song that I began to hear. It echoed in my mind. A Christmas tune? A Christmas song in April? It was the Christmas carol "Oh come all ye faithful" repeated over and over in my mind.
Four or five feet up in the air above the front garden suddenly appeared an undeniable figure of a man in dazzling light. A man's figure floating in light! I couldn't shake it. Aware that it might mean something psychically, I frowned into the light, puzzled. A tidal wave of encompassing warmth washed over me. Love, peace, and serenity overwhelmed me. Bliss radiated from this figure of light.
Later, I recalled my previous special request, and remembered that it was, indeed, Easter Sunday. I recalled my plea to Easter Lily to assist me. I had heard the song about Christ, had seen the figure of light, and had experienced bliss and rapture. I had observed what I realized later was the Christ-light.
Since then I care little for any didactic about Jesus the man. I hum that song when I need reminding of the miracle sighting that I apparently had.
Tinkerbell
Paul Schroeder
Giordano Bruno- February 1600 (burned at the stake by Church Bishops for teachings against the Church) "Innumerable suns exist! Innumerable earth's circle around their suns, no worse and no less inhabited than this globe of ours. For no reasonable mind can assume that heavenly bodies that may be far more magnificent than ours would not bear upon them creatures similar or even superior to those upon our human Earth."
Dr. Gary Lincoff and his wife, Susan were boating on North Conway Lake in New Hampshire, near the North Conway mines, on May 13, 1998. The paddled into a deep hidden canyon, entering between huge boulders which formed a narrow gateway. They had been there before and made love in the wild flowers in a field. They pulled the boat up onto the narrow beach shadowed by overhanging willows and had a cold lunch of chicken and white wine. It was a pristine landscape to wander in and dream. Soon they felt the air vibrate strongly like an explosion's aftershock.
"What in God's name was that?" Susan asked.
Her husband answered, "I'll bet it's a shock-wave from a dynamite explosion at the North Conway mine."
"But there was no sound, and we're miles and miles from the mine."
He thought for a moment, "You're goddamned right."
He climbed the boulder behind him and he said, "I should be able to figure out what has happened if I can see out over the lake from up there."
"You'll probably fall and kill yourself," his wife warned.
After hard climbing he reached the top which was split and he could look out through a sharp cleft in the rock. Two large, shiny, round craft floated on the water just beyond the narrow entrance to the cove. What he had seen was so unbelievable that he scrambled down to get his wife. Both climbed to the well hidden perspective.
Both craft were fifty to sixty feet wide, about twenty feet thick at the center and fifteen feet thick at the rim. Round, black-edged ports covered the rim at a distance of every four feet. On the top sides, hatch covers were open and moving slowly around its surface were spindly creatures who moved in unison like robots. On both ships over their heads from a central position was a slowly rotating hoop-shaped object.
When the hoop reached a point directly opposite the husband and wife it stopped. So did the creatures. They stared toward the couple's hiding place and remained motionless.
The husband pulled at his wife's dress, "Jesus, get down." Both did. They were sure the creatures had spotted them. They hid until they noticed that a deer below had come to the water's edge to drink. They hoped that the strange creatures were watching the deer and they rose for another look. The hoop was rotating once more, operated by a creature standing below it, who wore a small, scarlet head covering. All were small and wore close-fitting dark suits and blue helmets.
One creature placed a shiny green hose in the water, drawing in water and at the same time discharging something from another hose.
Again the hoop stopped and all the figures froze. They stared toward the couple on the rock. Husband and wife ducked and counted to thirty before they inched up for another look. Two hours later, dazed and confused, missing time, the couple ambled back into their boat and headed for home. They were both grim faced and neither spoke for the whole trip back, and the further they traveled from the lake, the more their amnesia of the incident grew.
That night, as his son slept, he stole into the bedroom and removed three books by J.M.Barrie; he felt strongly protective and oddly repulsed by the idea of Peter Pan, a never-aging figure who comes down from the sky and floats children out of their bedroom, accompanied by a little ball of light: Tinkerbell.
A Tapping
Author: Paul Schroeder
A tapping, delicately, on my back. I am sitting up on a table, feeling gentle taps on my back, watching a series of images; myriad tables receding into infinity, like two mirrors facing each other.
Farmers milking cows; on each table, a person is sitting up and examined by a small, slim, white, intent, fragile, large eyed creature. Their fingers probe lightly, gently, purposely, like playing a piano.
They are milking Chakras or Kundalini nerve centers, seven along each person's spine. Their touches stimulate hidden DNA sequences as well as retrieve and store data and information along the length of the spinal chord, along a library of nerves.
Like ants milking aphids they spend careful time and effort, gently, delicately, fingering each spine in a long sequence of tables, like marionettes playing human harpsichords.
These manipulations of spinal nerves initiate secret, as yet unbidden DNA sequences, which dangerously age and disease and trouble the somatic body and mind of an abducted. After an incident my finger and toe nails have to be trimmed twice every day; early sequences causes acceleration of aging and growth of certain cells. There are horrible psychic and emotional results from activation of these spinal sequences too quickly as well. Inter dimensional leaking occurs; one senses other worldly creatures and flirts with the beast of madness, itself.
What is subtly being programmed, stored and retrieved In our spinal chords? We are Manchurian candidates of stellar proportions.
Inter dimensional bleeding through into our dimension? Pranks predominate. Objects disappear to return days later in strange places. I entered the back of the house, passed by enormous four foot wide, four foot tall flower pots, each weighing as much as a man, blooming red with tropical ten foot tall cannas plants.
I opened the back door and entered the vestibule into the kitchen; I could not take another step. Glancing backward over my shoulder, I saw that both pots were turned over, the enormous elephant ear-like leaves sprawled to the ground, in a fraction of a second. The despair and confusion and poltergeist shock was so profound, that I stopped and prayed aloud for a spiritual sign.
"God, if there is a spirit world and it is real, and I can ask for protection, send me a sign: God, send me a white bird, up close and personal, in my face, on my window, as a sign".
I put my whole heart and soul and angst into this prayer and minutes later, busy else where, I forgot it, as it promptly receded into the recesses of my mind.
The next day, on route to work, following the same path I always drive, I made a right turn and over the street of cars I saw a cloud of some one hundred gulls, hovering, wheeling, circling overhead as if attracted by garbage or dumpsites, although none was in evidence. As I glanced up at the raucous flock, one white gull swerved to within an inch of my windshield, glossing passed and made eye contact with me. It lasted maybe two seconds.
Preoccupied with driving and having totally forgotten my fervent spiritual request from the night before, I drove on, momentarily startled, but dully unaware of it's significance.
After a strenuous day at work I returned home, lit a prayer candle and began to voice again my special request for a sign when I remembered the morning gull. I HAD asked for a white bird on my window, up close and personal. Had I been given that sign the very next morning? I decided to be skeptical but not cynical. If I saw any gulls in the area anywhere while in transit on the way to work for the next two weeks I would know it was a coincidence or a quirk of fate not a sign that I asked for. Why was the black eye of that bird, which whizzed passed so fast, so fixed in my mind?
For two weeks, each day, I scanned the horizon and landscape for a sign of gulls hovering, as I believed a flock so large would certainly reappear somewhere. I never saw one bird. I decided I had been given a wonderful sign and it has given me the courage and the confidence to feel protected in this fight against the unseen harassing entities.
Abductions
Author: Paul Schroeder
Within a blackness, a voice, intoning, resonant and deep, over and over and over. What a beautiful child, such a lovely child. I am walking to a parade; excited blare of crowds and distant drums and trumpets propel me forward, holding two children , one in each hand, as I rush expectantly eager that these small two experience the thrill and joy of what is obviously a people- lined event, just ahead. In my right hand is a small child of perhaps six, in the other a frail, grey, long-armed and long-legged sickly tubular creature-child who couldn't keep up; I swept this odd child up onto my shoulders and felt its joy; it was a handicapped, ailing entity, sadly listless and lifeless. The scene changed, as did the perspective; I was looking down at this tubular diapered child on a bed as I heard that deep resonant voice suggest I change its diaper. I was never an eager changer of diapers with my own children when they were babies, choosing sometimes to neglectfully leave a full ripe pungent baby for their mother to change, who was due home any moment. I recoiled at the suggestion to nurture and care for it; both the creature and its toilet needs clearly repulsed me, as I examined it closely.
I awoke, convinced that my experience was similar to others in attempts to have offspring reunited with somatic abductee parents for nurturing as these hybrids seem to be expiring. And that the word we use; dreams, is simply an impotent problem with our language's inability to describe it, the experience in any other way. Mass abduct ions are the taking of many people in an area at the same time, folding time and space in a manner beyond belief so that no time missed is noticed by abductees.
As a very loose rule abductees soul-personalities have agreed to participate in these abductions at a distant point in time, as a spiritual agreement and these people are often virtual peace offerings between warring alien factions as somatic banks to periodically retrieve somatic tissue from people with alien DNA; most abductees have alien DNA. They locate us as children to begin this tampering and it continues regularly, throughout life. I refuse to acknowledge this agreement as this particular personality of mine has been purposely made aware of these intrusions and as such reflect a clear violation of spiritual rights, in their continuing.
I have dragged my feet and refused cooperation; they change tactics and redouble their efforts. I enlist the spiritual help from the same dimension that they use to enter and they lend demons into the equation as spite work, muddling the picture. Tell yourself that you will remember and vague and vivid snippets will remain which you can unfurl at leisure by worrying the edges of the snippet; what happened just before and just after will intrude, slowly, until a fuller grasp entails.
They now give me screen memories that are dreamlike in nature and wrap me in general blackness at other times so that I awake with nosebleeds, scoop marks and exhaustion without vivid remnants to recall. But the screen memories are so aligned with their negative thoughts that the scenarios reveal that they are imposed, by virtue of their worst scenario plots and their vividness. They are masters of delusions and can have you dreaming a snug little dream while they march you around their craft for various nefarious purposes, and most are none the wiser.
I resent and frustrate their entrances, approaches and goals when I resist and their tempers ill befit the advanced technology they have.
Since they primarily wait until you are in REM sleep, lucid dreaming works well to detect and interact with them and is worth all the trouble it takes to master techniques of lucid dreaming. Prayer works only if it is effective and repetitious and none of the standard appeals to saints and Jesus works, but repeating GOD over and over does set up a different vibrational level that can instantly end an abduction if one had the presence of mind; that's where lucid dreaming comes in.
Despair not; as they are psychic and have implants within you that see and hear what you do, repeat often and with severe indignation to leave you alone, now and forever; they'll hear you and then wait and see their reaction; never fear; they feed ethereally from negative fears; love them away and they'll be puzzled enough to sit down and think things over before they come again. Remember that creeping anxiety is the signature symptom of their intrusion and that if you feel that fear building that they're already inside. Treat the anxiety as though it were a person and order it away, in the name of God, you'll see that the feeling abates instantly but like yellow jackets at a picnic they unerringly try again, over and over; fighting them is a 24 hour 365 day job from now on. I, too, am convinced that effective repeated prayer that repels can and does work for me, intermittently; the entities whom abduct are unseen but the entities who assess the testing I've been submitted to are flat like a Gumby character, white like a refrigerator, tall, hooded and telepathic in nature.
The brain is somehow detached from the front of the brain, where one's shoe hangs before ones eyes but one can't discern just what it is; that's what looking out of the craft's window and seeing nebulae and stars was like, precisely stated.
The perspective was waking to find I was asleep wrapped in delusional thoughts and scenes, I later discovered that these entities, just outside of sight, were keeping me and a host of others, during a mass abduction, on short, psychic, surreal leashes of control while manipulating them around the craft for various purposes. The psychic nature of these entities is most uncannily canny and most who experience an abduction will not recall being inside an alien craft or will dismiss these vivid flashbacks as dreams.
My only clue was awakening with the joy of dreaming about a wonderful wood inlaid staircase that brought me a rapture. Unfurling, backwards, all the events around the joy recalled at the staircase forced the recall of the tall grey and his flashed imposed emotions further revealing that the staircase was a ploy to erase the joy id felt seeing the stars and nebulae outside the crafts window; a cruel mind controlling taunt that ultimately backfired for the controlling mind reading entity that imposed it. There is much yet to be remembered.
The fans seem to be working; either the little critters can't materialize, project invisibly, because of the combination of all the swirling floor fans and ceiling fans, or they're afraid that they'll be sucked up, or it may be that the electromagnetic interference set up somehow thwarts them.
I do now believe that the invisible negative - thought entities (the "Jinns" who give me nightmares with horrible scenarios,) are the same entities who "separated" my astral body from my physical body; I awoke to see that the ceiling fan I'd left on had been shut off, and I awoke drenched with sweat. They had gotten me.
There were odd deeply bright yellow stains on my pillow; endocrine milking? A foiled injection? I know that I hadn't shut the ceiling fan off; I had drifted off to sleep with it on full tilt. And the wall switch put it into work, again. So maybe the fan is a partial defense...but against WHAT??! I had a peculiar nighttime experience of high strangeness. I 'awoke', (out of my body) in darkness by the hall steps just outside my bedroom. I thought I was, perhaps, in transit back from the bathroom.
As I stood there, drowsy and off balance, wrapped in darkness, something was placed on my neck or something jumped from the top of the stair railing onto the back of my neck; some palm sized hand-puppet-like creature jumped on the back of my neck, gripped it tightly, like a tiny koala and snugly climbed, moving up and positioned itself into the hollow of the nape of my neck where it clung tightly. When it reached the top of the back of my neck it snuggled more deeply. It held on with a clamp like grip, warm, small and unseen.
I reached up and back, in disgust and in horror, a quick reflex, to find that I had no power to lift my arms; they hung like dead wood at both sides of me. My hair stood straight up and again I found I could not raise my arms to remove it and I began to jump, dance and twist, terrified to full awareness from sleep, now, scared, aware of its presence. It clung fast despite quick wrenching spasms of my head, neck and shoulders to dislodge it's grip from the back of my neck.
I was paralyzed with panic, aware of this evil strange tiny creature holding fast to my neck, and again realized that my gyrations and twitches and spins were useless; it clung on the more tightly.
Again I panicked. Now, beyond the confusing, frightening realization that my arms weren't working, was the fresh horrifying disturbing fact that my feet were rooted like tree roots to the ground; I tried to flee with this creature on my neck into our bedroom and awaken my wife who would surely be in horror at its materialization and reality and who would peel it from my neck and at the same time answer my shouted queries; what IS it!? what the hell IS it!? I was stuck in a real nightmare.
My mind reeled in raw fear that threatened to stop my breathing. My arms were not working, legs oddly paralyzed and the creature had dreamily nestled near my scalp warmly stuck fast, well up on the back of my neck, as though safe snug; It held on, strange and silent.
I realized that I was just outside the bedroom door and thought, frustrated; I WANT TO GO TO SUSAN and then floated into the room as though on an unseen conveyor belt, into the bedroom yelling, "Susan! Susan! What's on my neck?! What is it?! Can you see it?! What's on my NECK!!?" I writhed and danced.
I awoke, in bed, (in my body), with my wife, Susan, shaking me. Leaning over me, looking at me with concern in her eyes.
"You were having a bad dream," she said "I had to wake you."
I realized that the tampering entities could also retrieve a whole host of unseen inter dimensional critters to plaque me and that my astral body as well as my physical body was subject to their creative harassment. They seemed more insidious; tampering - could occur when I was asleep and "wandering"...
Very strange and creepy indigestible spiritual questions loom and dissipate. Only God can protect me.
Out of body? These entities, these greys, specialize in astral tampering. Six months ago, at about five o'clock, Mid -August, early in the morning, I awoke and looked up and down at my body in bed.
My feet were floating above my feet; two sets of me were visible, one above, one below. I was leaning up, now, agog, waist bent, staring, feeling my whole body tingling, vibrating and I thought, more in fear than in awe; "my god, isn't that what happens at death?!" My next FEARFUL unformed thought was that I had to stop this; I didn't want to die. But I fell into a deep sleep and awakened later, exhausted, not remembering.
That night, before dinner, Susan told me that my whole body had "shook without my seeing any appendage twitching" enough to wake her, a sound sleeper, the night before. I told her my early morning remembrance and I realized that these inter dimensional thieves were fooling around with my astral body or with my soul, itself and I suddenly longed for feeling of being deeply religious, frightened and aware of my "essence", not my body, that I had discovered valuable to these entities.
How could such a thing happen or be allowed to happen, in God's universe?
How can I explain their invisible , intrusive and harassing motives behavior and tactics? How can I resist without invoking 'revenge' or anger from these unseen thieves of body and soul? Who can I possible talk to about these assaults, nightmares, nosebleeds, dreams, and poltergeist -like experiences?
Who could understand or advise me?
Only another "abductee" or "experiencer" who has successfully resisted the evil of psychic or spiritual attacks.
Wednesday - February
"And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us" In the middle of playing bass guitar, at four in the afternoon, the radio on in the background, a feeling of sudden anxiety, free and floating, smacked me, making my stomach tight and my fear lever climb.
I closed my eyes in sudden panic. Beyond my own belief, in my mind's eye, three small blue - grey entities stood at the door, inside, watching me. The leader "intruding" into my psyche or mind, usurping, 'taking control', causing anxiety; (as an intuitive approach signal, I recognized). I ordered them out, putting the guitar down, shutting off the stereo and amp and mentally ordered them out!!
Out!! Out !! Out!!
I was swept with their raw surprise; two left, evaporated, one, amazed, reluctant, lingered.
I recited the Lord's prayer and struggled, inwardly, to resist, ordering him out even as he hesitated repeatedly. It took five long minutes, minutes that seemed longer before the anxiety; i.e. the mental intrusion ebbed and I felt alone. But I wasn't. I went into the kitchen to boil water for tea, leaving the room, turning my back, my mind away form the feelings in the living room when a word, in my mind, emblazoned, loomed in letters large and capital.
"BEREAVEMENT". With my eyes open, the words hung in space, as though an afterimage.
Were they sad I had resisted? Tough s**t!! I thought. Would they again impose their negative scenarios and make me grieve in nightmares, cry heartbreaking tears? What did it mean? Bad dreams? In four days I was on a plane booked at a hotel to attend my father- in-law's funeral in Florida. Both the airfare and hotel rates were listed as "BEREAVEMENT" rates on both receipts.
As well as being invisible they can see into the future and tell, warn us as suits them... But it seemed as if it were a 'slap', a rebuke, to have been told in such a cryptic stilted and intrusive off-handed way. The word BEREAVEMENT was as much a response to my rejection of them as it was information. And most importantly it, the "WORD" strongly confirmed that anxiety IS a symptom that intuitively alerts me that psychic intrusion, interference is happening. If the word hadn't appeared, I would not be sure that a wave of free-floating anxiety means they're already HERE and INSIDE... I was never really sure before. The word "BEREAVEMENT" confirms that I was right.
If I can fight "them" in the first initial stages I can resist more completely. But how can you fight something you can't see? They change tactics, redouble their efforts and make one pay heavily for resistance. They're addicted to abduction and also have access to inter dimensional creatures, who do their bidding.
Fight?
Resist?
My analogy is one of cows grazing in a world - wide pasture. They are simply cows who eat grass under God's blue sky and don't acknowledge or analyze because they're only cows. But they love life and God and his skies and his grasses.
Occasionally, something odd, bizarre; an experience of high strangeness occurs; the farmer comes and milks the cows. Most pay no attention as they are just cows who eat grass and, the experience happens when they are asleep or dully unaware. The few (smart) cows who do resent the episodic intrusion who are aware of the subtle meddling, kick over the pail and spill the milk. They may even threaten the farmer himself.
For these cows, the farmer does not return; instead, he sends in the 'butcher' for these cows.
The 'butcher' is an evil, punishing entity, (inter dimensional) who "MEDVED", "comes in the night" gives illnesses, infections, pains, organ disease, death, in bidding retribution for the abducting, but now thwarted entities, who resent resistance, in any form.
Tuesday - February
I often wonder, when at air terminals, awash in crowds, or at a ball game, how, seemingly unaware "bovines are being "milked", or whether how many are truly troubled, aware of nighttime 'visitors'.
How many people, thronged in diverse pursuits know? How many merely suspect? The accumulated, slow built 'evidence' suddenly looms as obvious as a trout in the milk. But would cows recognize a trout in the milk?; most would go on to chew grass under God's blue skies and deny the subtle, spiritual interference as a 'bad dream', or their imagination.
There is electrical interference with the T.V., bands of static and white noise, every few seconds on all the channels, like someone is broadcasting, nearby, on all frequencies! Ticks and knocks are heard in the walls; laying in bed, in the darkness, I hear a soft but clear footfalls in the attic and on the roof, paddling.
The floorboards red and termite ridden, creak and pop as unseen entities walk by my foot board, as I toss anxiously; try hard to ignore the sounds, asking myself "How can they just walk unseen, through walls and doors yet have enough seeming weight of specific gravity to hear them make the floor creak?" begin to pray, trying to mentally resist, calmly now, over and over telling them to go: "Be gone, unclean, evil spirit. Leave me alone, the power of Christ, himself, the Blood of the Martyrs, God, himself, orders you to leave."
-over and over -
I close my eyes, aware that anger, fear; all negative emotions are food to them. My repulse must be totally positive.
I try to think of them as marauding intrusive raccoons who stumble, motives unclear, into a trespass situation.
There are some who say that the entities forfeit their rights to not being attacked when they abduct, physically, when they intrude, but they never materialize; even when I know that they're PRESENT, physically, I cannot see them. Sometimes a quick moving shadow or a flash of lights, (as though traffic could reverberate lights into a room with the blinds shut), is what I imagine I see.
(They either "cloak" the area of their presence, or being at a higher intelligence and vibration level (not higher morals) they are simply invisible.) But they're THERE.The darkness of recall after some abductions may be that perhaps I just keep my eyes closed and that explains the general "blackness" that have replaced the past surrounding vivid abduction memories, dreamlike in quality.
"SLEEP!" "SLEEP!"
A hooded grey stands, tall, by the bed: "GO BACK TO SLEEP - DO NOT AWAKEN" forces my mind to resume dreaming. I am in blackness.
When I awake, bereft of memories, tired, I swing my legs over the bedside to reach the floor, and open my eyes.
A voice, in my head, not my own, but much like my own says:
"Time to activate"
That stops me cold as I rise. "Time to activate"?? That's hardly my jargon, word-salad, choice of words to describe starting another day; "Time to activate" chills me as, (forgive me), EGO - ALIEN to my thought processes. Here again, I'm left to wonder, "What does it mean?" What? (I'm left to feel as though a "walk -in" has occurred into my mind psyche; an interloper -possessing - entity. I refuse the thought; I don't feel any differently.) But that sentence is so strange it haunts me days, later.
"Time to activate"
Am I being monitored? Controlled? It sure feels like "Time to activate" could be their jargon relating to the stoppage of oversleep pattern into the consciousness.
Or is it replete with psychic or bodily conscious monitoring?
"Time to activate"
Activate what?!
What does it mean?!
I feel as though my inviolate rights; rights over my body and spirit, have been repeatedly violated.
March - Just before going to bed I heard footfalls creaking the floorboards by the closet door. I close my eyes and mentally recite the Lord's prayer. A vision of a naked woman is flashed into my mind; heavy -set, voluptuous. As I examine it, eyes closed, I realize that the image is imposed on me for mental intrusion. I reject the image and try to see Jesus' face, or the 'Sacred Heart' of love that God has for mankind.
A white macabre mask of "Scream"; the phantom mask, mouth agape, eyes grimacing looms into my mind. I recognize that, it too, has been imposed, forced on me, to possibly scare me or answer my thoughts. I turn over in bed, eyes closed and reject, pityingly and with contempt, the attempt to startle me, holding a scornful, condescending, judgmental, disapproval of the entities efforts, I hold the thought of how ridiculous, paltry and ineffective the attempt at intrusion is.
I drift into sleep, confidently holding those thoughts against the entities and trust to God and my spirit guides to protect me while I sleep.
"St. Michael, Archangel of all angels, who defended God in Heaven, against the Devil, I call upon you now to defend us in battle against the Devil, whom I rebuke, and with God's help, send him to Hell, along with dark spirits who walk the Earth seeking to destroy men's souls. Amen."
"God, although I am not worthy, send me a guardian angel to protect me from evil; I ask God to surround me, wrap me, in a bubble of divine grace and light to protect my soul and body from being tampered with.
I ask that this white light of God's Grace and protection come into my soul to cleanse and purify it. I send out all my negativity, through this white light, like so much dark smoke, hurting no one. And I ask that God protects me in this white light, all day and especially, when I sleep, at night. Please God, protect me this day and every night. Amen."
"St. Lucy, patron saint of blindness, give me vision to sense the invisible, to see into the darkness, to raise both my arms, in defense, against the darkness and to have the light, divine light, protect me against inter dimensional, invisible beings, who mean me ill." I drift off, into an uneasy sleep. ...If you BELIEVE strongly, that you are protected, somehow, they'll leave you alone. Why? Presence of mind is our greatest weapon; the ridicule factor, is their best 'defense'... Who, in one's 'right mind' can one even discuss these things with? Paper, is indeed, much more patient, than people. When did thing get worse?
It started at 8:00 P.M., Saturday night, December 2nd, after a series of 22 ice storms, we, in New York sustained, that winter. The ground crunched under my feet; icy -snow- covered sidewalks, underfoot, total, thick overcast overhead.(Old temperature about 30o, and very little wind)
I glanced up, overhead, came into my backyard pantry door, gently dropped my groceries and stood, arms akimbo, stared up at a strange, but not yet disturbing or revealing sight. Overhead, a clean, crisp hole was cut into the overcast, revealing bright stars. It was as though a cookie- cutter had sliced a clean mile- circular hole, into the cloud - cover above.
Everywhere else was thickly overcast, but almost at zenith was a perfect circle of clearing. What looked like a red child's balloon floated into view, a bright red against the stars and outlined blackness. The red balloon stopped, joined by two more, which joined the first.
All three balloons hung red, overhead, stopped, in the center of the 'hole'. As I stared at neck breaking zenith, puzzled at their not drifting, three more floated into view, at the rear of the growing formation, a flotilla, of red balloons.
All hung motionless overhead as I felt a sense of awe grow; my mouth fell open with raw wonder. As one more joined, slowly from the rear, assembling North to South, overhead, a group of Seven escaped red- children's balloons, hovered in the center of a blackness with bright stars, cut into a heavy cloud cover. What were they? Balloons drift with the wind; they're not migrating, hovering birds; what are they!?
I stared in wonder, awe tingling my forehead, stomach and arms.
Their color changed from bright red to light lavender purple, all together, all at once. Quickly, like minnows in a pond, they peeled off in pairs, from West to East, heading toward Montauk, and were gone in several seconds leaving the hole overhead; twinkling with stars; empty.
I am convinced that this "sighting" has everything to do with my spiritual and mental experiences of high strangeness.
Did they climb down the ladder of my awe to find me? Or is it that my "sighting' was no 'accident'?
Which one came first, the chicken or the egg? Maybe, it was the farmer that came first. Was that 'circle' for their needing visibility, or for me, needing visibility?
These meddling, harassing, unseen entities may be, in fact, the occupants of those 'crafts' I stared at. I cannot be truly alone; they must be many; like me; aware, resistant, troubled, and amazed.
If nothing else, these 'critters' have renewed wonder, in my life; the sense of AWE and faith; faith that the spirit world does, indeed, exist, and not only for malevolent entities. They've also destroyed the actuality and concept, itself, of getting a "good night's sleep." Sleep is now replete with danger and loss of control; consciousness and my astral body wander, unknowing, while I sleep, among beasities and monsters.
My parents always told me, when I awoke from childhood nightmares that monsters did not exist, not real ones. But they were wrong.
I was always taught; then, reasonably; that there was nothing in the darkness that wasn't already there in the daylight. They were wrong again.
So with the newfound, long lost, sense of faith and awe comes fear of the nighttime; the seeming prime time for bedroom visitors' activities.
How do they 'vibrate' a 'soul' out of a body?
(Why bother?) You could simply take a sleeping body.
What are they up to?
Where do they come from?
The human mind- brain is a powerful tool; perhaps it can repulse their efforts; if I focus.
I am always residually amazed at their psychic -mind -controlling powers; powers that seem easy enough to unleash on people, during the daylight hours, not just when they're dreaming, wrapped in self- delusional images.
(They seem to "enter" psychically, when one is in an altered state of awareness; hypnosis- like, as when one is driving or watching television; when "presence of mind" is altered, in some way. But sleep time is commando tactics time, for them.
I thank God that I have rejected anxiety, as a constant companion, in my life, and now recognize its sudden, free- floating presence or its slow creeping presence as the signature symptom of psychic- intrusion.
What a revelation, for me, and for others suffering from chronic anxiety. Personally, I must avoid evoking anxiety, by life situations, poor decisions, family disagreements, and calmly trust in a loving God, no matter what hardships occur; so that I can recognize the EGO- ALIEN wave, flash of gut busting anxiety or even slowly building fear that signals me that they are "arrived" and already (partially) "inside".
March
I have been visited by the "Butcher."
Since I began resistance, I've been plagued with multiple, concurrent mouth infections that required general anesthesia and surgery; and now just a month later, my internist has confirmed "I can feel your gut coming through; it's definitely a hernia."
(Pain in both sides of my groin area may mean a Double procedure...)
They mean business. (I am convinced that a good hypnotist is needed to give me unconscious protective techniques to serve me when I am unconscious, (in sleep. Can they 'infect' or 'rip' astral frequencies to ruin the body's health?) God.
I am tempted to stop all psychic resistance and willingly relent if they will HEAL me, big-time; rather than watch my peripheral health slowly disintegrate, as I resist...
Their 'demon- like' qualities were reflected in a peculiar incident, one afternoon, as I was reading; Celtic-Irish accounts of 'elementals', 'earth-spirits' and 'fairies', who culturally bothered, harassed, visited, and abducted innocent people.
A thought came to me; "These aliens, these psychic-vampires are historically like indigenous cockroaches; culturally, they've been 'entrenched everywhere, and as cockroaches, seek as 'unwanted, unclean, vermin dangerous to one's health!!" - Celtic folklore.
I was sitting in the same wooden chair, I am writing this now; seated at a table inlaid with floral- inlaid tile; my chair inches away from a wall where a Remington Western print and Paul Klee print hang. I got up, turned to rise and saw a monstrous, sedentary winged adult female cockroach, shiny in three fully inches of oily, resilient insect, on the wall, inches behind my recently moved head. I realized the potential for shock, panic, disgust, horror, fear, revulsion; infestation- anxiety (we are cockroach free); that those uncontrolled, negative feelings would feed the entity either in satisfaction or pure psychic energy. I controlled myself.
I walked over to the sink, breathing calmly, controlling my heartbeat and emotions, and in mild surprise and a modest sense of awe, at their seeming ability to pluck a creature I'd been thinking about interdimensionally, and respond to a mere unspoken thought, obviously monitored and appropriately, albeit evilly, responded to; I got a handful of towel- tissue, grabbed and drenched tight the enormous sexually mature cockroach and tossed the wad into the garbage pail, calmly.
Laconically, I thought "It's a good thing I didn't think of charging rhinos!"
The point is their omnipresent insidious, evil, mind- reading presence; I'd much rather be infested by cockroaches, than demons who can pull cockroaches out of thin air to make a point. The point is;, Evil: they're in control are telepathic, in nature.
The Christians were right, about "sin"; not the Jews. The Jews say "sin" is an act; not a thought. (One can think about homosexuality, murder, theft, rape, but only the Act is sinful; one must not act upon one's evil ideas.) The Ten Commandments speak only to overt acts, not thoughts. So does the U.S. law. The Christians believe God reads what is in the soul, or the mind, to know the inner 'sinner'. The evil is in the thought, itself. They are right; it's in the mind.
I have repeated proof that the unseen spirit world exists, (can be sinister) and reads minds. Their minds; their motives are murky.
My faith in God has been strengthened, proportionately; with each troubling experience of high strangeness. If there is a bottom spectrum of unseen evil, as a bottom, there MUST be a top spectrum of goodness and divine protection.
I have been snuck into (God's) faith by the back door. Only God knows, I need protection.
One of the off-shoots of harassment and other- worldly experiences, be it ghosts, revealing spirit -mediums, UFO abductions, is spiritual growth for the 'victim'. I don't believe that these 'creatures', harassing, malevolent, deceptive, are spirit guides who evolve our spirituality, but that such 'growth' is incidental to experiences of high strangeness.
Fairies, Jinns, aliens, are molesting entities, difficult and dangerous to 'shake'. But the power of the mind, as a tool; to rebuke them, positively, in protection, is not enough.
Divine protection brings hope.
Physical and psychic resistance?
Pinched nerves, ripped stomach muscles, infected areas of the mouth, nosebleeds, (Copious and left nostril). Nightmares and exhaustion and tremors in the leg are the psychical ailments I've suffered concurrent with realization and resistance techniques. I know it's no coincidence and I'm only marginally paranoid, even after all these odd experiences. But I feel I've been thwarting the farmer's efforts to 'milk' me and the 'butcher' has been sent to lend ailment spite work, into the equation. I wish I could cause them BEREAVEMENT.
Anxiety- levels high, nervous late one night, hours before bed, aware of them, intrigued. Ensconced in the ironic sense of their plaguing omnipresence, I posed a question playfully, internally; "Who was I physically in my previous lifetime?" I wondered, since they tamper with souls, throughout, and harass, intergenerational, in families, as well, that they should have bothered me in previous soul experiences, as well as in this one. It was a frivolous, teasing, tangentially curious question, I asked, myself,knowing that my thoughts were monitored never realizing that I would be provided an answer, of sorts. I relived an evil moment of that life.
That night, I had a strange breathtakingly vivid dreamlike flash; unlike an evolving dream scenario, it was a five- second- long lightning flash, which was so short and so bright that like lightning, the scenes immediate afterimages have lingered without revealing the whole landscape. I was in mortal terror, panicked. I was in heart pounding transit, running fast through a series of apartment rooms whose high corner windows overlooked a six story modern street scene; cars moved among the parked vehicles,in bright sunlight,far below.
The sunlight outside was very bright, I ran, dry- mouthed, wide- eyed, gasping, in fear.From what and into whose hands I know not; I fearfully rounded windows which overlooked the front street corner seeking the door and ran passed a hall mirror, on the wall, just before I reached for the doorknob, in desperate haste to leave the flat. In that mirror, I caught a glimpse of myself running for my life, as the door opened, heart pounding, in full flight, now, in mortal terror, the scene turned to blackness and I awoke, dazzled.
Inside - The person who ran was me; me in every feeling and nuance and thought, me in attitudes, likes and inclinations.
Outside -Not me at all; The picture, the lighting flash afterimage of the person in the mirror was a young girl of twenties, with blues and blonde hair of medium length, small in stature, pinched thin features clutching a bright red pocketbook.The blue eyes were identical.
I awoke realizing immediately that my question, seriously considered, had been given, fractionally. Had they imposed these images, or 'retrieved' them from my subconscious? Was it a lie?
(I was stunned that I was to admit believe that the recycled personality's nature, is unalterable, that much could be called the soul.)
What troubled me was that I had received a powerful answer on many levels. They have monitored "me" in previous lifetimes when I was not "me" but really still was "me" and that is core to the abduction experience.They act as they recycle souls into bodies without the spirits ever seeing heaven or their angels or their messiah or their blueprints; we are hand puppets for alien creators playing God.
Why, then, were they interested in one's soul? Can they "Splinter" the soul and kindle new flames from those sparks to create new souls for their own purposes; the way they would treat sperm or egg, hybrid baby samples, to create new somatic creatures?
I remember a voice in my head: "You are an old soul; a very old soul ..."
"We come from within", to me, means that with technology I have personally encountered, they can splinter sparks from, of our spirits to kindle new souls as well as they do take sexual and somatic cells to grow new beings.
This total playing of God ,in addition to recycling souls and bypassing heaven is designedly possession of the abductee -not by mere implants but by merging inserted alien bio electrical energies during an abduction session, a true silent invasion, not unlike demonic possession, but through machinery.
They are more interested in our spiritual essences than we are aware of our spiritual essences ;in this case, I awaken to find myself placed, bolted and strapped into a large heavily padded metal chair in a round dimly lit room, about 20 ft wide, containing four such chairs, in a circle, with large degraff generator looking poles, with round heads, about ten feet high, two feet thick, between the chairs.
I can see,across the room, a huge hulking form of a man wearing a dark suit, opposite me, also sitting, looking switched off or dead, hunched into another heavily padded metal chair who faces me within the circle.
Spectacular displays of what looks like white firework sparkler-like sparks fly straight up, from these poles, high into the air and are then quickly circled, cycled in a growing faster circle above both our heads, anticlockwise, in a circle of dazzling lights until parts of our energies are merged and merging, siphoned off into another hulking machine just beyond my sight.
When I was nine or ten, school was immersing and enveloping. Once, during class, in the midst of grade school, in the fourth grade, during class, I realized that I had floated out of my body and, looking both ways to see, gauge, what reactions my classmates had to this miracle, and discovering none, whatsoever, floated up in delight and flew around the ceiling of the room. I saw all my classmates, below, engaged in animated conversation. Wild joy gripped my heart and I drifted through the large paned school windows unseen. I flew over buildings, chimneys, rooftop- advertisements, streets, the exhilaration of 'flying felt deep' in my gut, wide eyed with ecstasy.
Somehow, I was suddenly sitting, back in class. The teacher questioning meaninglessly and I wondered how I'd returned. Nobody had known I was gone. I blinked and stared, looking around, feeling very peculiar; I had left the class, been outside and I knew I hadn't just merely imagined such a thing.
I never mentioned this to anyone, until now, not even to myself.
Paul Schroeder Story
Part of the alarming nature of the unknown is its mysterious link to the known; I awake each night to a lewd exhibition of the merging. I open my eyes and turn to see the digital alarm clock, sitting on the lamp table next to my bed and see 12:12, and 1:11 AM, 2:22 AM, and 3:33 AM and 4:44 AM. This distresses me so badly, upon awakening, that I cannot think; just a wave of panic that SOMETHING is awaking me, as the calculated odds of awakening each night precisely at those specific times is astronomically impossible. The message intended seems to throw me off balance and keep me wrapped in fearful confusion and lets me know that I am being toyed with but yields no greater insight than to let me know that when I sleep I wander amongst monsters and beasties.
Sometimes after abductions, the inter dimensional door, left open, invites the gangster fringe element of the spirit world; sometimes demons are thrown into the equation,by greys, as spite work for attempts at thwarting abductions. But the unseen sinister world is as real as the nose on your face; The building, called Harold Hall, since renamed, stands six stories and houses some eighty families. The basement area is the only place I've encountered, face to face, the entity that followed me home and whom stands gauntly by my bed at night and delivers mind blowing dreams. It stands at the intersection of 92 st. and Fort Hamilton parkway, in Brooklyn, not far from Shore Road, on the Narrows, and abuts the old army base still there, Fort Hamilton Army Base. I know nothing of the history of this building except that when I left, sure that anyone who entered the basement would meet it, it seemed to have moved with me. I am straddling the fence of the twilight zone surrounded by harassing, omnipresent, sinister, psychic, tenacious entities, whose presence fills me with wonder and indignation. Unlike murky dreams, the out of body attacks differ from my dreams in their vivid 3 D total sensory envelopment and the inherent viciousness in provoking angst, realistic in every way as compared to consciousness. The perspective is waking to find I am asleep, wrapped in delusional thoughts and scenes, dreams so aligned with negative thoughts that the scenarios reveal that they are imposed, by virtue of their worst scenario plots and their vividness. These occupants of UFOs, these discorporate negative thought entities are masters of delusions and I have recognized the raw power of the vividness as more than murky dream scenarios could ever muster. I am convinced that we are dead wrong about the nature of dreaming itself. At night, your astral body travels to realms from angelic to demonic, a spirit world of myriad vibrational levels and the pictures you see on the backs of your eyelids, while you REM, are not dreams but visits, souvenirs of a greater reality. Like a goldfish who never suspects a greater world beyond the pond's surface, the limited awareness of humankind floats beneath the surface of a greater reality; groping, mouth agape in total ignorance. But that is generally unaccepted by western medicine, that the mind is part of the receiving quantum physics of the universe and that's no help to one under psychic attack by the dark side greys.
Sadly, I've only met sharks, not the porpoises, in the ocean currents of unconsciousness, between 2 and 6 AM and grounding is essential, but, how? As we struggle into consciousness, each morning, a self-erasing mechanism destroys memories of dreams; only vague and vivid snippets remain as clues. But how many people can recall dreams that were not dreams at all? I have recall for hours and days, afterwards of these impositions, unlike the general amnesia accompanying most of my dreams, all of my life. I assure you that I have shockingly unlearned all Jungian and Freudian concepts of dreams; it's only our own language's impotence, calling these dreams; the Eskimos have myriad words for snow; we have only one for dreams that often are not dreams which we, ourselves, generate. My experiences, in the extreme, illustrate this indigestible possibility. Bless you for the chance to ventilate and exchange ideas in this horrid realm; horrid, because that attacks continue and vary in intensity to the point where I have tacitly accepted all I've told you at the risk of denying everything about the mind and dreams I've ever learned.
Description of haunting; At night a large black shapeless mass turns out the lights while you are in the labyrinth of mazes hallways en route to storage rooms, in the back, and stands in your way laughs, evilly, there is a terror and a strong wave of hatred felt. Trying to retrace your way in the darkness, back towards the elevator, hugging the walls, brings air blown onto the back of your neck, your name whispered in your ear and your clothing clutched and plucked at by unseen hands.The terror at facing something you know cant exist is overwhelming and dazzling.
The presence is large and blacker than the darkness surrounding it; you feel a sense of being watched and sense warmth, waves of intense hatred which is undeniable. Flashlights fail and dim and blink out when one tries to outsmart its turning the lights out. The six floor apartment building abuts the Fort Hamilton army base, a quarter mile away and is at the virtual foot of the Brooklyn side of the Verrazzano bridge. I have been the supt of that building between 1990 and 1999 and have encountered that entity through my denial to acceptance to raw fear of it.
It has intruded into my dreams; followed me into the elevator and into my bedroom to evoke horrid worst scenario nightmares which betray that it knows our minds better that we do; I avoided the basement, neglected my duties there and was subsequently fired by the management office. This building stands at the intersection of 92 street and Fort Hamilton pkwy, in Brooklyn, New York. Although I have moved far, the psychic attacks continue, nonetheless; I am drowsing over the bathroom sink; half asleep and yawning, supporting myself with my arms on both sides of the sink, tired, still half asleep naked, when something brushes my face and loins, both just below the sink and just above my face, above the sink. I open my bleary eyes and dully see an enormous conglomeration of festooned fishhooks surrounding me, hanging from the ceiling across the sink; a filigree chandelier of razor sharp connected fishhooks that I've stumbled onto, stark naked. Pinching sharp needle connections at my groin and lip and face apprise me, quickly panicking now, that I've been deeply hooked in myriad places; through my scrotum, through my lip and my cheek. In dawning horror, I notice that moving back and away from the sink, slowly, that to move backwards, in shock or panic flight is to deeply gaff myself further, inextricably and beyond help.
I am attached painfully and as I lift my right arm to gently work out the fishhook, razor thin, dozens of others swing, move into and onto me, fasten against and bite into my flesh. Scared further into desperation and confused fear as I awaken, quickly now, and find that I am unable to think my despairing senses into anything other than a gathering sense of panic and helplessness.
I turn my head and the hook in my cheek tears deeply into my mouth; I shift and the fishhooks, unseen, beneath the sink begin to bite deeper and more painfully into me.
I am a marionette impaled from face to scrotum and have wandered unknowing into this macramé of razor blade-like fishhooks some madman must have concocted over my sink in my bathroom. The slightest movement brings sharp painful reminders that I an stuck fast and in a nightmarish predicament I cannot solve as I am screaming, muted, for help from my wife asleep in the other room.
Opening my mouth to holler I feel the deeper bite of the hook into the deep muscles of my face and I can only growl and moan loudly, aware I won't likely be able to reach her ears with my low moaning and am becoming more entrapped with every movement.
Like a monstrous wind chime of dangling fishhooks, I am trapped and my fear level climbs to near hysteria as I awaken, suddenly, in bed.
Again I am aware of the imposed horror for ethereal feasting but dazzled at the raw power of the attack; the totality of sensory construction and the viciousness inherent in the scenario.
I am beset with demons; negative thought entities who are malevolent and who know our minds much better than we do in projecting telepathic sustained attack.
How can you fight something you can't see? This was the first of several creative virtual reality psychic attacks delivered, on this night and represent a continued program of spiritual and out of body attacks at the hands of unseen entities who are clearly brilliantly malevolent and tenacious.
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Some time ago a friend of my wife's and a group of friends made a trip to historical sites in the Middle East. During the tour she had a chance to visit a cave on one of the hills around the holy city of Mecca. Inside, she was attracted by - she swears it was nothing but - a bright light perched on the cave's wall, and took a picture of it. When she returned home the rolls of film she used during the trip were developed. And she was surprised to see a picture (attached) of a creature she never saw before in her life. She took the picture and showed it to her spiritual teacher. The ustadzah explained that it was Satan in one of its forms, as was described by her teacher decades ago while she was still in school. Subhanallah! She made copies of the picture, my wife took one, and I scanned it for you to see.
The waves of sheer hatred, intense telepathic bursts of raw hatred felt by me in the unseen presence of some of the harassing entities might well echo the demeanor of this clearly interdimentional creature; note the venation of the rock which bisects its waist, like a belt; it is transparent. Again, I am convinced that since a hateful bottom spectrum of the unseen universe exists - I, too, have been grabbed and shaken by demons, large, black and strong as a bull - that a goodness, top-spectrum of the unseen spirit world MUST exist; I have been snuck into faith by the rear door. The last sentence of the letter accompanying this pix was; MAY ALLAH PROTECT US ALL FROM DEVILS. The photo is authentic and, perhaps, the first I've ever seen of ectoplasm inter dimensional evil; note the ears and head area edges, unformed; and the hooves and details of physiognomy. It has been suggested by UK experts that this entity ALLOWED itself to be photographed as the rarity of such photos of such clarity belies the elusiveness of these psychic mind reading sinister entities, I call demons. They are horribly real and as psychic vampires, unparalleled.
The entity that tortured me was tenacious in following me anywhere I traveled and made a point of letting me know as soon as I was sure I'd left it behind; doors would lock when I was showering, although I was careful to leave all doors open; objects would move just within immediate sight and wild evil dreams at nighttime let me know it was well with me despite my having traveled far.
Raw prayer, to my spirit helpers, to remove this dark entity, has finally produced lasting results, to date; no horrid demonic nightmares or grey alien astral abductions; a virtual miracle of faith and request. Seeing an evil, powerful, attacking - with nightmares - demon removed by goodness is awe inspiring and transforming and enlightening. Here's advice to other so suffering.
Tell God to send his Spirit Helpers to your side, and they will be there before you know it. Then, it will be time for them to help.
Talk to your Spirit Helpers. Call them your Spirit Helpers. Pay attention to the feeling of comfort all within you when you do come in contact. You can tell they are with you when you feel an urge to calm yourself. Then doubt will leave you and you will be able to communicate with them.
Once you have achieved this feeling, you are ready to talk to them and get their help. Talk to them as you would a respected friend or family member. Telepathy or audible language is OK. They will speak to you though telepathy as an understanding or a conversation in which you would swear you are talking and carrying on a conversation with yourself. You will find you are then talking and answering your own questions. It can be quite fast. And you might feel completely foolish. Listen to your first answers, and try not to second guess them. They will be right the first time. There is NEVER any fear attached to talking to your Spirit Helpers. The minute you feel fear, it is no longer them.. Try to reestablish you feeling of comfort to continue listening to your Spirit Helpers. You will most likely get much resistance to your attempts, for such contact with your Spirit Helpers marks a permanent end to the MIS siege. Malevolent Inhuman Spirit; a demon.
Tell your Spirit Helpers what it is you need of them, and then wait. Tell them how desperate you are and tell them to hurry. They will do what they can against the MIS, which is usually an expulsion.
I have had a dark entity virtually block my requests and substitute itself for my spirit helpers for years frustrating and confusing me in that my prayers were answered so quickly by it that it set up problems for me and solved them for me without my having a clue. The nightmares and weird tampering of out of body experiences continued unabated, nightly, until I simply asked fervently and passionately for my spirit helpers and told them to act as bouncer at the astral door and to block such evil entities entry; it's the little voice in your head that tells you, when you're sitting at the table, to check the teapot as it must be boiling; it's always been there.
Maintaining that conversation, internally and feeling confidence in the subtle exchange is the tandem combo for success against demons and astral alien abductions. We truly come from the spirit realm and return so we can avail ourselves of its power, its internal talking to heaven.
Finally, I can explain all these oddities and life's synchronic coincidences and abductions, sightings of ghosts and demon induced dreams; we are not people having spiritual experiences; we are spirits having a human experience.
I thank God and my spirit helpers for these insights and for help no breathing human could have affected; a good nights sleep after years of harassment, a sense of peace and salvation and protection from the harassment of demons by positive faith and confidence and that god has revealed himself to me, fractionally.
I no longer feel goofy depending on spirit helpers and conversing with them; they have produced a miracle, and a miracle is anything that increases your belief in god. Before all of this, I was a confirmed atheist and placed god neatly on the same shelf with the tooth fairy and Santa Claus. I have learned contrary lessons that have illuminated and educated me; I pass this uncut jewel of help to all who merely suspect; the spirit world is real and goodness as well as evil is as real as the nose on your face, although unseen. Seeing is believing is as much an untruth as, you only live once.
Other indigestible insights from raw experiences show me that most people walking around the street have seven visible color halos from seven spinal chakra energy centers; psychics have double; fourteen and hyperspace travelers, alien abductees and people who see ghosts and have alien abductions have three times or twenty-one color globes. Danger exists in inter dimensional bleedthroughs when one has more than seven. Problems like mine happen from alien tampering of the spine by careful repeated tapping which activate everything, all at once and one flirts with the beast of madness by experiencing high strangeness in common, everyday events. One sees auras and archetypal symbols surrounding people and can discern disease by looking at color values; worse, three times that number of chakras can allow unscrupulous mentalists to read blueprints of a life and go inside and CHANGE those blueprints, a clear violation of inherent spiritual rights.
Copyright © Paul Schroeder
