Within a blackness, a voice, intoning, resonant and deep, over and over
and over:
“What a beautiful child, such a lovely child.”
“What a lovely child, such a beautiful child.”
Over and over and over, again.
Suddenly,
I am drawn to a parade.
Moving swiftly forward, striding, I can see the popcorn strewn sidewalk
beneath my feet and I can smell cotton candy cloying sweetness wafting in the
breeze.
Just ahead, an excited blare of trumpets, a murmur of deeply lined crowds
and a growing but yet still distant tattoo of drums, combine to urge and
propel me forward.
I am holding hands, pulling along two children,one in each hand, as I rush
forward, expectantly eager,
with an urgency that these two very small children experience the brassy,
colorful thrill, of a parade.
In my right hand is the palm of a human child, perhaps five years old, a
child wiry and muscular with blond hair and bluest eyes, a robust human
child.
In my other hand, I grasp a small, withered hand, one of an odd looking,
frail, non-human child, with black almond-shaped eyes and very long, skinny
arms and legs, a sickly, tubular creature-child, who struggles but who
can’t keep up.
I sweep this odd child up onto my shoulders to let it see ahead and to
carry it ; I feel its joy as a strong psychic wave..
I look again, curious and more critical.
It is a handicapped, ailing entity, sadly listless and lifeless.
A facsimile look alike of the cartoon character, Gumby,
its long grey arms and legs seem useless appendages, a long tubular shaped
Gumby child, listless, ill and with no vitality.
I stare in amazement, clearly disgusted.
The scene changes, as does the perspective.
I am now looking down at this same grey tubular, now diapered child,
laying on a bed.
I hear that same deep resonant voice repeatedly suggest that I change its
diaper.
(I was never an eager changer of diapers with my own babies, choosing
sometimes to neglectfully leave a fully ripe and pungent baby for their mother
to change, who was due home at any moment! )
I do a double-take and recoil at the suggestion to nurture and care for it
by changing its dirty diaper..
Both the creature and its toilet needs repulse me, as I examine it more
closely.
I awaken in bed, suddenly aware that the word, “dreams”, used to describe
abduction’s surreal otherworldly ness, is an impotent word, in our language,
a problem with our language’s inability to describe the experience in any
other way.
“What a beautiful child!”, as a phrase, recalled by tens of thousands of
abductees the world over, clearly appears to be a phrase in an alien
scripted scenario, in attempts to have offspring reunited with their somatic
abductee parents for nurturing, as these hybrids seem to be expiring.
A faraway, primal thought arouses a dawning idea, one that they wanted me
to embrace: that ethereal child is quite possibly of my own blood and my
own flesh.
And that’s what alien&nbs
sp;abductions are all about.
They are busy doing what we are doing, creating offspring, all over the
planet, but blending two very different species of beings.
These hybrids have been acquired, by these beings, by a difficult, long,
hard road.
We are used, towards this alien agenda, precisely, in the same way, as we
practice animal husbandry.
Mass abductions, the taking of many people in an area at the same time,
involves folding time and space in a manner beyond belief so that no time
missed is noticed by abductees.
Time is a quaint variable, like gravity, both of which aliens have
exploited in ways that we can only faintly imagine.
When UFO craft suddenly wink out, vanish and then reappear, in the exact
same spot, they have actually traveled in time and returned.
As a 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 rarified 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 have enlisted spiritual help from the same dimension that they use to
enter our physical one, and they lend demons into the equation as spite work,
muddling the picture.
I tell myself that I will remember, and vague and vivid snippets remain
which I can unfurl at leisure, by worrying the edges of the snippet.
What happened just before and just after the recalled snippet of memory
will intrude slowly, until a fuller grasp entails.
They are careful to give me screen memories that mask events onboard
craft, screen memorizes dreamlike in nature.
Often, they wrap me in general blackness 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 one dreaming a snug little
dream while they march one around their craft for various purposes, and most
abductees, the world over, are none the wiser.
I resent and frustrate their entrances, approaches and goals when I resist
and their tempers ill befit the advanced technology that they have.
Since they primarily wait until one is 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, not unlike a pesticide, only if it is effective and is
repetitious.
While none of the standard appeals to saints and to Jesus works, repeating
the word, ” GOD”, over and over, can set up a different vibration level
that could instantly end an abduction, if one only had the presence of mind.
That’s where lucid dreaming comes in.
Never fear, as 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 psychic
intrusion and that if you feel that fear building, they’re already inside.
Treat the creepy 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 jacket wasps at at a picnic cola, they unerringly try again, over and
over.
Fighting them is a 24 hour 365 day job from now on.
Effective repeated prayer that repels can and does work for me only
intermittently, however.
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.
During abductions, the human brain is somehow detached from the front of
the brain, where one’s shoe can hang before one’s eyes but one cant discern
just precisely what it is.
That’s what looking out of the craft’s window and seeing the Earth, the
Moon, nebulae and stars was like, precisely stated.
The perspective was waking to find that I was asleep, wrapped in
delusional thoughts and scenes.
I later discovered that these entities always 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 us around the craft for
various purposes.
The psychic nature of these entities is most uncannily canny and most who
experience an abduction will not ever recall being inside an alien craft or
will dismiss any vivid flashbacks as dreams.
My only clue, was awakening with the joy of recalling a dream about an
intricate gorgeous wood inlayed staircase that had brought me a sweet rapture.
Unfurling backwards the events around that joy at seeing an ornate wood
staircase revealed that my rapture of that staircase had been an alien ploy
to erase my memory and to cloud my recollections of my genuine awe, in
seeing the Earth and the Moon, stars and nebulae outside that craft’s window.
By making a simple metal staircase the unrightful recipient of a much more
powerfully imposed ‘awe’, by turning the delusion’s volume up too
dramatically, a mind controlling screen memory failed and ultimately backfired for
the controlling, mind reading entity who imposed it.
There is still much yet to be remembered.
Abductions and their remnant elusive memories have opened all this for
Paul, a confirmed atheist, until he saw aliens float him out of his body, in
his bed, at night. Then, he knew that they were interested in an essence
he never suspected that he had; a soul. Our spiritual powers that interest
and addict interdimensionals are the very powers that can be used to thwart
further attacks.
They infect auras with attachments to themselves and ride the
reincarnation roller coaster with people, to avoid the death that they fear and to
steal the spiritual recycling that we have.
These joyriding grays can be sinister, discorporate alien souls ,stuck to
your energies, who bring a new meaning to the concept of a silent invasion.