AN ALTERNATIVE PHILOSOPHY OF LIFE : A SPIRITUAL MESSAGE
by Paul Schroeder
by Paul Schroeder
by Paul Schroeder
Since sex is less than five or ten percent of a marriage, those who marry just for sex, find imposing reasons later on in the relationship, to not confine sex, within the parameters of their marriage, but remain as faithful, as their options and opportunities.
Women wander sexually, as well, as statistics reveal, that every other wife strays to another’s arms, for love making.
I often thought that women had it better than men and that if I were a woman, without any love, I’d be down at the docks, no underwear, waiting for the fleet to come in, with my skirt pulled over my head.
But, today, much older and jaded, I’m a cheap date, for myself, and even after sexy-self-love, I don’t even take myself out to dinner or to a movie..
More and more women today, say aloud, that they “don’t need any man, anymore, even for sex, but that they DO need men , sometimes, but then, ONLY, to lift and move, heavy things around…
Sex, is forever something that parents are loathe to discuss with their children; when I was a child of seven, they mentioned the fearful danger of sex, saying, “not to play around with sex, because it was,”playing with fire.”
At seven years old, I recall thinking:
But one who marries, just for sex, is buying a 747 jet, just for the little bag of peanuts.
Surely, there’s other ways to get peanuts, if that’s all that you really want.
Men are more juvenile in primitive sexual drives and emotional makeup, and women are indeed, far better human beings, providential, sensitive, charitable, strong and beautiful.
This DNA primate difference can be demonstrated.
Equality, in mutual passion, is easier to demonstrate:
When a cop on the beat encounters a young couple making love in the tall grass, in a park, he does NOT tap their shoes with his nightstick to angrily demand:
Progress will turn HIStory, into HERstory.
Women remain naive and not the least bit aware of men’s glandular functioning concepts towards all women.
At a party or wedding,
deep within men’s psyches.
For women, few rarely grasp that their public dancing, is clearly nothing but public, overt, symbolic sex.
Most cultures associate ” beauty”, with a simple more precise symmetry, of the face, where perfection is a mirror image of both sides of the face.
We equate physical beauty with inner goodness, which has allowed nice-featured and handsome psychopaths like Ted Bundy and Jefferey Dalmer to serial (successful) murder so many duped women and duped so many gay men .
Men are suckers for a pretty (merely perfectly symmetrical) face and will sacrifice marriage, family and children for a dalliance with one..
Each solitary, individual feature on your face always stays its birth shade and original color.
Methinks, that If men wore makeup, most would be disconcertingly prettier than many women.
You can always wear shorts despite how awful your legs do look.
Your last name, regardless of marital -legal battles, stays put.
People do not ever stare at your breasts and your nipples when you’re happily chatting with them.
Calorie intake and belly size are never a crucial consideration.
You always have the consummate and total freedom of choice about the growing of a mustache.
You don’t have to remove all of your clothes just to pee.
You can wake up just as attractive as you were when you went to bed, rather than have your beauty somehow deteriorate, during the night.
Woman, as the pretty sex, is a relatively new idea:
Throughout the animal world, whether it flies or swims, the male is STILL the colorful sex, the female, the drab one.
But since the eighteenth century, sexual and cultural reversals have oddly persisted in human affairs, and women instead have become the pretty sex.
But “pretty” means, slim and skinny, as fashion dictates.
Straight men, do not adorn themselves towards being highly polished- exceptions exist for politicians, actors, sports-stars, head gangsters, and police detectives, for within these men, narcissism, a sinful sense of entitlement, and monumental ego all loom.
‘Beauty’ television commercials and ‘beauty’ magazine ads feature graphics of highly curried women, extolling Western society’s virtues of vacuous, narcissistic women, who gaze back at us, made over into a man’s surreal vision of what ‘beauty’ should look like..
In Maine, at a lobster restaurant, I went to the register to pay and behind the counter, opening the register, was a tall, strikingly handsome, buxom woman, in a formal ballgown who sported a large handlebar mustache.
Men perpetrate this hoax until they themselves believe it.
In truth, a woman is as sexy in bed as that woman was interesting, before bed, and interesting, after bed.
(“No man ever reached up a woman’s skirt, looking for her library card”)
But, for many non-self-respecting men, it’s all just about a woman’s exterior patina, and veneer towards sex.
Yes, men are more shallow than one would imagine, more vain than women and more duplicitous in satisfying their overwhelming hormonal drives.
Women thus feel that loss of beauty means loss of love, and then rush off to plastic surgeons, for tits and ass augmentation, nose jobs and liposuction, mascara and eyeliner alert, to avoid NOT being a love object..
REAL beauty emanates ONLY from within, something not taught in our culture, where women spend very much time on their outsides and little or no time spent, on their ‘insides’…
Women at an early age learn what dizzying effects their bodies have on men, and men’s sex drive, and use THAT against them ; women culturally have been taught guile and deceit from a tender age, to ‘trap a man’, by using their physical, sexual allure:
They shave armpits,
shave legs and mustaches,
dye their hair,
(“Women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut, and still think they are sexy”)
tints of rouge blush,
sport uplift brassieres,
go for Botox or plastic surgery to erase facial wrinkles,
install Hershey-kiss silicone fake breasts,
wear high heels,
then, they meet a man,
and they want, …
Can such preoccupation with sexual camouflage avoid extra-marital diversion , and allow longevity and truthfulness towards a meaningful marriage?
Many couples who have lasted together forever, don’t have to work hard, to get along in marriage’.
When George Burns and Gracie Allen were asked how they remained so in love after sixty years, he said:
I remember once being stopped and asked at Disneyland by a graying and aged couple, to “photograph them”, for it was none other than their “fiftieth anniversary”.
I wondered what wisdom and marital advice they might share, for too many, marriages end sadly in divorce.
These too many short-term marriages, for too many men, seemed to me, just like a tornado:
in the beginning, there’s a lot of sucking and blowing , and later on … you lose the house.
Whatever happened to the romantic woman and to the romantic man who said that they could not live without each other?
He went East, and she went West… and they both lived.
My wife went over to speak with his wife to comment on how sweet they looked together, but when
I returned the camera as he made his way over to me, I asked him the $500,000 lulu question:
“What’s the secret to being married, so successfully, for so long?”
He looked confidential and wise and peeked to see if his wife was engaged in conversation before he spoke:
(Author’s note: the title is from a Rodney Dangerfield routine..)
You have certainly heard it said, that in our lives’ destinies, “All IS WRITTEN”?
According to reputable and gifted psychics, our lives are carefully planned by our spirits, beforehand, that we assemble spirit helpers and spirit guides, in Heaven, to accompany us, long before we jump into another womb’s prenatal body, for yet another lifetime.
Life, they assure us, is a series of pre-programmed events staged with proscribed boons and travails, specifically designed to grow us spiritually closer towards God, a God who gives us myriad incarnations, to hone and perfect us.
Earth is our ‘school’.
Even a ‘deja vu’, a moment haunting in its odd feeling, that we’ve ‘ been ‘there’, before’, psychics say, is precisely such a specially pre-inserted moment, in our blueprint, a small odd- feeling- ‘bump’, in time, designed to remind us, unconsciously, that we are assessed perfectly aligned, with our pre-planned spiritual lessons, in that moment.
How, then, is one to understand spates of bad luck, that stubbornly seem to follow one throughout?
For some of us, and that includes me, day after day, week after week, awful little and large things happen in doses that nag at us, and seem to resist greater meaning.
The title’s male comedian, once complained:
“I have the worst luck all of the time; I have no luck at all.
If it wasn’t for bad luck, I wouldn’t have no luck at all!”:
I miss buses and oversleep appointments lose my wallet and keys, stub my toes, step in dog poo and bang my head underneath cabinets.
“Just yesterday, I woke up, got dressed, and a button fell off; I reached for a closet door and the knob came off!
I grabbed my suitcase, and the handle came off;…
I was afraid,… to go to the bathroom!…”
If it’s true, that “all is written”, how does one explain annoying and troubling
‘nothing is going right’ periods, that persist?
Many gifted psychics, privately affirm that since ,’all IS written’, awful bad luck events happen, by no accidents; aligned with spirit, bad luck, in a continuous line, is commonly backstage- orchestrated.
Large and small bad luck occurrences will happen everywhere, all at once, in one’s life, as a spiritual “sign”, an alert that one is sadly far from one’s prearranged spiritual path.
When one has strayed too far away from one’s Heavenly, towards God, pre-planned ‘blueprint’, self delineated in intricate fashion, bad luck will stubbornly continue to manifest.
Then, It’s no coincidence that you lost your wallet, spilled the coffee on the computer keyboard, stepped on the cat, had a bathroom pipe leak down onto the kitchen ceiling, got a flat tire and missed the train and that was only Tuesday!
“Nothing is going right!”, life malfunctions, reveal that something else LARGER at stake, down a long hallway, and somewhere else behind our ‘curtains’, is ALSO not right.
Bad luck in series, is the tyrannical effort of Heaven, specifically,
our spirit guides and spirit helpers, who are more than just trying to get our attention.
I can actually, at this point hear the known cynics and pernicious doubters yet again exclaim,”Your thesis, to me, personally, is just nonsense!”
What about those people who have one good luck event, after another good luck event follow them?
When one is on one’s correct preplanned blueprint’s spiritual path, ‘everything just seems to go right’?
If we are progressing correctly, according to “plan”, then all of the little confluences and connections in our life begin to seem to work, and series of fortuitous coincidences occur like perfect magic:
We catch the bus, right on time, we meet that person we were hoping to see, we gain hope and guidance automatically, from kind strangers, we find that misplaced thing we searched for, garner the needed finances that we sought ;
wonderful coincidences gather like flies at our mustaches.
Only when one is much too far from one’s self-set goals, does all Hell seem to break loose, everywhere and all at once, repeatedly.
Chronic and persistent ‘bad luck’ isn’t the ‘disease’ itself, but is instead an emergent ‘symptom’, of a disease.
But, can it be all that simple?
After learning this, minor constant misfortunes that never seem to end, rather than blindly depress you, will enlighten and cheer you, because it confirms that our path, is indeed a pre-planned path, and that, “Yes, Virginia, there really IS a Santa Claus,”
on ‘stage’, and ‘behind our curtains’.
Consistent negative synchronicities, are messages and bad luck events, now alert us that we are NOT up on our spiritual ‘toes’.
Am I being helpful to others or self-consumed and impish?
Am I forgiving, or nurturing grudges?
Am I consoling someone who needs consoling or am I, not wanting to ‘engage’, avoiding them?
Am I offering charity to someone in need, or cautiously sidestepping involvement?
Am I being supportive or judgmental?
Am I being loving or impatient?
The cessation of bad luck troubles, relies and depends on one’s spiritual shift- of -perspective, a recognition that will appeal to your spirit helpers and spirit guides.
Listen to something emotionally releasing, like taped wholesome standup comedy; laughing can reset brain chemical imbalances from angst and is a wholesome therapy, instrumental in stopping deepening fugue, about persistent bad luck events..
Large doses of laughter can jump start and stir the cheer of one’s lagging soul .
Essentially, one must recognize those backstage spiritual influences; a prayer for guidance and enlightenment is now tantamount.
Pray, IN THANKS to your spirit helpers and angels, who do a mostly thankless job, most often, and then, ask them for spiritual assistance.
Prayer, to be put back on the ‘right path’ will suffice, and then all at once, as though in answer, the confluent series of ‘ bad luck’ events will suddenly abate.
Then, be sure to react with love to the situations that next present themselves, to you.
“Why me?!” is always the wrong question.
“Why NOW?” is more apt.
Bad luck in a series of repeated events means that
we have missed the inner signposts of mercy and patience and forgiveness and are indeed far from our set spiritual goals at that moment in time.
Series of bad luck incidents in our lives are NO accidents .
“All is written” may sound facile and glib, but one’s spirit helpers can and will reach from behind the curtains of Heaven and appear almost tyrannical, as they attempt to fast turn one into another direction, like adjusting a human skillet frying pan by grabbing one roughly, by the handle…..
For we are not humans having spiritual experiences, but spirits, having human experiences.
Prayer, with feelings only of gratitude, strongly helps to bring a message for the cessation of travails, until one’s head is re-screwed on, properly, to extend love, in all endeavors, to others..
“I think we consider too much the good luck of the early bird and not enough the bad luck of the early worm”
Just before my grandmother on my mother’s side died at the age of 95, I whispered a kiss in her ear and thanked her for her wisdom.
One odd piece of advice, that she had taught me when I was a child, I had carried close to my inner ear, all of my life.
It had been an Independence Day warning, borne of a distant Russian wisdom, one that she had whispered to me four decades ago, when I was nine or ten years old, impressionable and the apple of her eye.
The imprecation that I got from her, the warning whispered in my small rapt ear when I was nine or ten years old had been an odd warning that ruled and guided my life, and through angst, had come to define a larger part of what I called my soul.
Now, she at ninety-five was far from that woman who in giving advice could be ironic and poetical.
She had used lipstick as a rouge to color her cheeks and then decided that her whole face was of a pallor that also needed color, rubbed lipstick all over her face.
She was quite a shock when I got onto the seventh floor of the retirement home and turned the corner and saw her sitting in a wheelchair, as though apparently waiting for me.
She earnestly asked with a childlike innocence if I could bring her some new makeup and some big diamond jewelry for her to wear to dress herself up, when I visited her next?
Cautiously, I had asked her, skeptically dubious ;”What type of diamond jewelry?” She had said;
“Expensive, fancy jewelry.”
She labored under the delusion that she was in a hotel in Miami, one that slouched in basic standards;
“The meals at this hotel are terrible, but what is a person to do?”
She did not ever surmise herself to be in a nursing home near the beach in Coney Island, Brooklyn.
A person’s senior mind can lend a type of psychic anesthesia that acts in many ways to protect it from uncompromising and painful truths. .
Now I was an odd adult.
I wanted her to know that I loved her, how her whisper had returned years later as my gratitude.
I had loved to cherish ideas; a rare few philosophers had touched my early soul .
Dr. Seuss had barely competed with grandma.
But, he wrote : “Be who you are and say what you think, because those who matter don’t mind, and those who mind, don’t matter!”
My other odd philosopher was sitting here in her wheelchair, armed and propped with a pillow/ alarm that would audibly alert nurses in the retirement home if she pitched forward and left her chair’s upright fixed position.
She was different the next time I saw her, the way she used to be ;
” Hello, Paul; sharp as a matzoh and twice as crummy!”
“How come you don’t call your grandma more often? Humph!!”
“Humph;You going to wait until I’m in the cemetery and THEN you’ll visit me?”
“I’m sorry, that you’ll be sorry, but THEN it’ll be too late!”
This was the same verbatim greeting that I had gotten from her over the years over the telephone . I presumed that I was calloused to it all.
It always deeply riddled me with guilt but I never let her know, but instead I saw it rather as a good sign that she was still feeling feisty.
When she successfully aimed ring-toss-Velcro-guilt in my direction, I rationalized, she must be feeling much better.
I quickly tried to change the subject; ” Grandma I remember that boardwalk we can see here in Brighton Beach from a time when you were fifty years old and I was about nine years old and I still remember the good advice that you gave me, back then.”
“What advice did I give you?”
I told her.
It had stayed with me for many years as a token of her wisdom.
“You brought me to you on a bench on that boardwalk, in Coney Island, on a hot 4th of July afternoon, when the whole family was there suddenly hugging and kissing each other,
“Don’t get too close to people; you’ll catch their dreams,” You told me.
“What?”, she said, so I told her again;
“Don’t get too close to people; you’ll catch their dreams.”
“OH!”, she said,”I am VERY sorry, if I ever told you that!.”
“I AM very sorry.”
I reminded her, however, what an impact she’d had on me then.
“That whisper, as a recommended life philosophy, was both poetry and true and that, your advice, really stayed deeply with me.”
Taken to heart, it had allowed me to remain aloof and separate from everyone, as a type of self protection, to preserve my OWN dream.
She looked at me as though I were some stranger in a dream.
I said it, again;
“Don’t get too close to people, you’ll catch their dreams.”
She was thoughtful and then looked worried.
“I never told you THAT.” …
“You shouldn’t get too close, because…”
“Germs”, she said.
” I said that you’ll catch their GERMS.”
“I told you and your sister MANY times;
“Don’t get too close to people, ’cause you’ll catch their GERMS.” she said, again.
That wrong belief had overshadowed every relationship in my life with an ambivalence and a craving to just be left alone.
If one was alone, one was safe from what people could do to you, I had always reasoned.
But, I had been running away from my own shadow.
Two marriages and a dozen influenza later, I had realized her truth, too late.
I received a letter from a man with a haunted mirror, who was seeking a solution to the ghostly presence troubling his sleep with nightmares and his waking mind with disbelief and trepidation:
“My floors creak all over the house.
It had no colors; it was basically what it looks like when you smudge your finger on clean glass.
That man now comes and go’s.
He seems to come out of and back into that mirror.
I have heard noises come from the mirror and quite often cold just emanates from its surface.
I have seen images in this mirror of the man.
When my family saw me take this out of the attic all I heard was, “Oh No” or “I thought you got rid of that thing, years ago!”
I guess the resident of the mirror decided to honor me with an appearance when I was snapping the pictures. ”
He had, he had written me, brought that mirror into his house in September of 1998.
His brother – an interior decorator – had found the mirror in the attic of a house that was being renovated.
He had given the mirror to Robert M., because he knew his brother liked antiques.
Through the looking glass, is sometimes capable of being another dimensional world.
From a reader (Nancy Smith):
“My daughter for many years hated mirrors, for her they were portals, no doubt about it. One day in junior high at her school, a young girl that had killed herself in that bathroom, which was later confirmed in a confidential conversation with me by a school teacher, spreading blood trails across the wall, appeared in the mirror.
This of course was a horrific experience for my girl, who NEVER went to the bathroom again at that school, those kind of memories tend to linger long after the experience.
She has had other ghostly encounters with mirrors, and doesn’t like them in her room. All I can do is offer an ear and a shoulder ..”
Mirrors have throughout ancient history long been suspected of having magical qualities, and
inter dimensional attributes.
Mirrors visualized, in one’s mind, surrounding one, protectively, can have the same evil spirit deterrent effect as physically having mirrors that face doorways; it is believed that the troublesome entity entering, sees itself , to then be saddened, and to be repulsed, by its own sheer ugliness, its demonic unholiness, enough to avoid entering, again, to yet do more mischief.
Surely you must have heard about many people who have seen a ghostly person in a mirror, a phantom person they couldn’t see when they turned around?
That’s is surely one of the scariest experiences that one can EVER have when it comes to mirrors and seeing ghosts’ presences in a house.
Mirrors remain a mystery as to how spirits can be seen through and by them, but not be detected visually, more directly.
Mirrors that are haunted, can be ofttimes portals into another close-by dimension and are therefore considered, by some, to be dangerous.
Mirrors can act as a doorway that allow the gangster fringe element of the spirit world access and egress to our lives, and all the while, we are unaware.Many religions and cultures retain some remnant wisdom of mirrors as doorways, portals to the paranormal, in that these cultures, today, require that one quickly cover all mirrors in a house of the recently dead, especially one of a close friend or a beloved relative.
Many believe that one must cover mirrors with sheets, towels or covered white with rubbed soap, after someone has died in that dwelling and if their image was once reflected in that mirror.
The recent dead’s, often likely confused spirit, now a wandering spirit and still present in those rooms, must be persuaded to go on to its rest, for it is held that
if the ghost sees its reflection in a mirror, it will instead persist to stick around, convinced to the contrary, that it is most certainly, still alive.
Folklore thousands of years old, led one to believe that the mirror can and will also capture that dead person’s soul, thus preventing its entry into the light of heaven.
Some ancient oral traditions state that the Devil invented mirrors just for this specific purpose, to deter and mislead ghosts.
“Mirror … Mirror on the wall you make my skin creep and crawl. Who’s the ghost that resides within?… The spirts of the dead, the lost or my next of kin! ”
Since ancient times, mirrors were said to have odd magical powers, including the power to foretell the future and were once considered devices of the ‘gods’, which we stole, and then mistakenly tried to copy.
Bad luck, it was said, arrived by breaking such a haunted mirror:
Breaking such a mirror, it was believed, would end its powers to retain trapped souls and would release the gangster fringe element of the spirit world, into our reality, to bring untold miseries and misfortunes upon the one, whose reflection it had last held.
A mirror could, it was said, also damn an already trapped spirit to a glassy Hell, that only the Devil himself, knew existed.
Mirrors are odd visual doorways in that one can see one’s reversed face in the mirror as well as the entire room also reversed behind one in the background.
That mirror is not mere glass, but is also an open doorway into that visible space.
All IS ENERGY
Some cultures see mirrors as nighttime hazards to our spiritual energies.
Japanese Feng Shui holds that any mirror facing the bed releases destructive feng shui, and that
any large mirror facing the bed directly will deplete your astral energy, over time, when you oddly and especially need it the most, at nighttime, when your body is genetically programmed to do repair work.
Mirrors, they believe, allow entities entrance to your sleeping form and act directly, to drain you of energy.
You thus awaken more exhausted, than you were, before going to bed, for
your spiritual energy drained, goes on to cause bodily somatic diseases.
Japanese energy scholars, who tout the importance of unseen flowing energy through one’s house and one’s body, state that any mirror facing your bed is also said to bring the energy of an unwanted third party, a marriage-breaker- into your most intimate relationship.
In feng shui,
a mirror which faces the bed is most destructive if it reflects your body while you are in bed.
Remedy the situation with a mirror which is
reflecting your bed, and find a different spot for it.
One can also use mirrors to improve the feng shui in own’s home.
Mirrored closet doors can be disarmed with simple draperies/curtains that can be closed at night over the reflecting glass.
This system allows positive mirror energy in daytime to get all the light and freshness for the bedroom that mirrors can provide, and at nighttime, allows one to close the curtains that cover the mirrored closet doors that face the bed..
The entrance vestibule of one’s house is tantamount, in feng shui energy flow teachings.
It is the place where one lingers when one enters or leaves the house and thus
one gets energy from the chi, that is flowing through this space.
If the entrance hall has no doors or windows and is enclosed, then it can lead to stagnant chi.
A mirror, can solve this problem.
“A formerly widespread tradition held that young women gazing into a mirror in a darkened room could catch a glimpse of their future husband’s face in the mirror—or a skull personifying Death if their fate was to die before they married.
Another form of the tale, involving the same actions of gazing into a mirror in a darkened room, is used as a supernatural dare in the tale of “Bloody Mary”.
Here, the motive is usually to test the adolescent gazers’ mettle against a malevolent witch or ghost, in a ritual designed to allow the scryers’ easy escape if the visions summoned prove too frightening.
While, as with any sort of folklore, the details may vary, this particular tale (Bloody Mary) encouraged young women to walk up a flight of stairs backwards, holding a candle and a hand mirror, in a darkened house.
There was, however, a chance that they would see the skull-face of the Grim Reaper instead; this meant, of course, that they were destined to die before they married.
Another form of Bloody Mary starts with a legend with a young woman named Mary, living in a small village in England.
“ Mirrors are the doorways through which Death enters the world. Stare long enough into a mirror, and you will see Death at work.”
“When people talk of Ghosts I don’t mention the Apparition by which I am haunted, the Phantom that shadows me about the streets, the image or specter, so familiar, so like myself, which lurks in the plate glass of shop-windows, or leaps out of mirrors.
The mathematician, Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (Lewis Carroll), posed a child’s honest question about mirrors in one of his best-known books, “Through the Looking-Glass”, that gets at the heart of the reality of the trouble:
by Paul Schroeder
Q: “When were you first aware of aliens?” / “what’s your first recollection of aliens?”
I shall never forget my first alien abduction recollection; I was about six years old or perhaps a little younger.
As a child I saw alien entities rarely described anywhere in alien related literature.
For many years of research on this subject I had until much later in life, never come across similar descriptions by any other alien abductee or anyone else who has described someone else’s experiences with alien entities.
Now, I know that these tiny E.T. creatures are ubiquitous and closely associated with other entities , who abduct human beings aboard craft.
Two tiny, wizened aliens came for a visit with me late one summer night at ten o’clock in the evening and must have stunted my growth by scaring the bejeebers out of me, when I was a very young child.
This happened a short while after both parents had put me safely to bed for sleep; I remember being awake and listening to the night symphony sounds of crickets and katydids chirping loudly on Shore Road, an apartment overlooking the Narrows in Bay Ridge.
I recall that I was wearing my pajamas and that I was in bed, alone and wide awake in my bedroom.
Two astoundingly diminutive non human creatures hovered outside my fourth story bedroom window, an apartment window which had no fire escape or ledge.
They appeared no larger than 12 inches long, from alien head to alien toe.
They were puppet like with small wrinkled, wizened, gnome like miniature features on little heads which were completely encased in what clearly looked like glass see-through diving / space helmets.
(In retrospect, they apparently did not seem to breathe our atmosphere’s particular oxygen and mostly nitrogen air mixture.)
There were two of them, floating outside of my window tapping on my window screen!
They were dressed in small, snug, tight fitting silver/gray reflecting flight suits.
I recall that their tiny helmet encased faces were very ugly and most wrinkled.
I can see them, still, as though I were fully back in that moment..
They bobbed and hovered, just outside of a fourth floor apartment’s flimsy ill fitting wooden window screen, tapping on the window above with little hands!
Ugly space puppets in glass helmets and flight suits!?
Again, a slightly stronger tapping at the screen.
It grew strangely silent, all insect sounds suddenly ceased, a bizarre quiet when aliens electromagnetic craft are close by, which has since been labeled, the “Oz effect”
A large dresser-bureau was between my bed and the window.
I leaned the front part of my body sideways off of the bed and almost halfway to the floor and twisted my head to see around the bulky piece of furniture, to
peer out towards the window.
Suddenly scared, I could also no longer hear the television sounds coming from the living room in the next room where my parents were watching television, audible just moments before .
Two ugly, miniature, dark, puppet like, clear helmet-encased, gnome-like non-human creatures, stared back at me through the window!
As they bobbed gently up and down in midair, I heard a conversational exchange between them, the sounds of which I have not forgotten for fifty years since:
It was a buzzing sound like hornets in a jar.
I recognized, even then as a very young child, that they were talking to each other, first one then the other, back and forth, a conversation without words in an odd hollow buzzing exchange; it sounded just like angry bees in a glass jar
My eyes opened wide and I shrank back in fear and pulled the blanket over my head.
Nothing this wildly astonishing had happened to me before and the fear almost stopped my breath;
I was so filled with fear that I could scarsely breathe.
My mouth and jaw instinctively fell wide open in awe and terror.
Then an idea surfaced and repeated itself:
” It’s critters who want in, but it’s not possible”, I thought, in abject denial, and I dived under the blanket.
I could not at all accept, and was without any frame of reference, for what I was seeing!
A tapping on the screen.
On impulse, I drew the blanket away from my head and peered around the corner of the bed, but raw
fear insisted that I peek and not expose my whole head, to their view.
I quickly swung around to peek, still in abject disbelief, out of the window.
Two pairs of eyes looked back intently and
there was a tapping on the screen.
I exploded backwards into the bed in panic and threw the blanket over my head, this time paralyzed with panic.
Electric waves of fear ran across my forehead and down my arms.
I was so filled with fear that I could scarcely breathe.
“I could have imagined it”, as a thought echoed in my skull
but I could not bring myself to look again, my fear was so great.
I huddled in the corner of the bed terrified, in agony of a terrible dilemma.
I was too scared to think about calling my parents; I wanted to believe that these creatures hadn’t seen me, though I had seen them.
My dilemma was unique:
If I didn’t look again, my young mind stunningly realized, I would never want to believe that what I saw, was really real, and soon my curiosity burned as strongly than my fear.
But, if I looked again, and they were still there, I could lose my mind to fear!
I peeked again.
They hovered, bobbing in air, staring back at me!
In what may have been a child’s hysterical reaction to an experience of extreme high strangeness, or alien mind control, I immediately fell fast asleep.
I’ve no notion of what happened after that moment.
Those tiny gnome-like aliens, no bigger than 15 inches or so, are now associated with greys and with human abductions, I have, in later life, learned.
Reptilians, small darl greys, and tall grey aliens have always been here, and UFOs are as native and terrestrial to our planet as are thunderstorms.
They cloak their presences, and do use the same astral dimension that ghosts and demons, use to enter and exit our physical reality.
The lower Earth animal forms seen as reptiles, mantids, amphibians, felines and lepidoptera insects are mirrored and echoed by the higher technological forms seen aboard craft by abductees, life-forms who have lent their DNA, eons ago to create this preserve.
That’s why ‘Earth’, is the rare jewel of varied life, that it is, it is among countless dead worlds.
We, too, are constructs of their menu’s creative meddling, edible simians who knot neckties and ride public conveyances.
But as a product, humankind is much more than mere served meat on a reptilian luncheon plate, because our spiritual essences, something as a race of beings, we are barely aware of, is also harvested:
When people ask them,”Where are you from?” “Where do you come from?”, they are often told,”We come from within.”
That is, after physical abductions, their possessing energies are deposited, not unlike the lamprey parasites that they are, within the multi layered human psyche/mind.
Director of CIA, Admiral R.H. Hillenkoetter: “It is time for the truth to be brought out in open Congressional hearings. Behind the scenes, high-ranking Air Force officers are soberly concerned about UFOs. But through official secrecy and ridicule, citizens are led to believe the unknown flying objects are nonsense. To hide the facts, the Air Force has silenced its personnel.” p. 58, quoted from New York Times, February 28, 1960, p. L30
The expression,”serial killer”, denotes the word, ‘serial’, which means, successful killer .
Ted Bundy said that he often wore his arm in a sling to perfectly trap random compassionate women, who traveled to his car door to assist him with his theatrical ‘struggle’ with packages.
These outgoing, caring women were brutally clubbed into his trunk for later torture.
Serial murderers who instead of passion, kill in ‘cold blood’, and do not know their victims, beforehand, for they kill randomly, purposefully moving from town to town, city to city, without any remote tinge of latent regret or accumulative feelings of guilt.
Unlike a murder of marital or organized crime Mafia passion, there is no plan for a pre- dug grave or a methodical bother to dismember the corpse.
They make no attempt to hide the bodies of their victims.
They stop on a deserted road and open the hood of their car to flag down a helpful motorist to kill them with a gun.
Back into the victim’s stolen car, in the next town,
they lure a child into a car by asking them to help find a lost puppy or by offering them a kitten from a box of kittens, which disarms any child, and then stab the child to death.
Later that night, they stop at a truck stop to pick up a prostitute to then strangle her afterwards leaving her body on the side of the road.
They remember to be most careful to use a different method of murder, each time to confuse police efforts from various jurisdictions, from establishing an M. O. pattern
that links random killings into a single silhouette, the fingerprint of a singular serial murderer.
Interstate highways lend a unique anonymous isolation to the mentality that serial killers love and use:
Truckstops are high risk areas, as are truckers, themselves, and especially long off-ramps are over represented with highway murder deaths, a study of murder statistics show.
A big, friendly, helpful smile, or a helpful assist from a total stranger, is the last thing one will ever see and one will never see it coming, the guise of
serial killer psychopaths .
These serial killer psychopaths travel from state to state blithely killing random people, leaving corpses on roadsides the way that we leave cigarette butts, without a single afterthought ,
psychopaths who from childhood, have had their consciences, all of their lives, sit in the corner, like a well trained German Shepard .
There is an unspoken spiritual truth, and it is that
such serial killers are demonically, Dark Force Entity possessed, humans.
Unlike unpossessed people, such Dark Force Entity humans do not return to Heaven, our truest dimension, when they die, but instead are ‘shuttled’ through another and darkest ‘door’, directly back into another human fetus to reenter our world again.
Unlike most of us, who spend time in between lifetimes, to garner spirit helpers and spirit guides, to prepare us for each arduous successive incarnation, serial killers enter back into this harsh world without a written ‘blueprint’, without spirit helpers and without protecting angels.
These dark souls do again return to become serial murderers,
Such”psychopaths”, possessed and guided by demonic entities within,
cannot be reformed or changed.
There is nothing that one can ever do to change such a Dark Force Entity in human form.
It is good advice that one should avoid them, sidestep them, and never attempt to tackle them head on.
But one CAN recognize and survive an encounter with such a serial killer predator, by
taking careful notes from serial murderers who have explained their ‘trade-craft’
” Trust your intuition:
Do not ignore your instincts or intuition.
You have likely recognized something indefinite that spells out danger, and your mind has not caught up with your recognition – you do not yet perceive how to dissect it logically.
This is intuition.
If something does not feel right, then it is not right.
Never ignore such inklings; do not be embarrassed to change your mind in front of a stranger or have fear of being rude.
It’s better to be rude than dead.
Under no circumstances get into the Car:
Once victims get into the car, few return alive and are later found dead at a secondary crime scene.
Whether you’re helping some stranger carry a package to the car, being offered a ride, or having someone else near your car, they can all end with you being murdered.
The presence of a baby seat or children’s toys in the vehicle – or even children themselves- are tools that a serial killer uses to mentally disarm victims.
The Green River Killer, Gary Ridgeway, once returned to a body dump site to have sex with the corpse of one of his victims while his son slept in the vehicle.
– Serial Killer Warning Signs of Entrapment-:
A Pretended injury/weakness:
The murderer makes a huge effort to let you know that he is physically weaker than you.
He may stumble and drop packages
“Please help me carry this to my car. Ever since my spine injury, I can hardly move.”
He may wear a cast or walk with a cane in the Ted Bundy method, to trap his victim.
Too much information:
The murderer will give you too much unnecessary, detailed information:
“My sister has a sweater just like that. She was living in California but she moved home last year. Her boyfriend gave it to her for Christmas, but afterward they broke up …”
When such a serial murderer is telling a lie, though it sounds credible to you, he often has little confidence in his talking-trap method and will tend to add too much detail, more than necessary to support it.
This ruse of details makes a serial murderer seem less a stranger and appear more familiar than he really is.
The un requested promise:
“Just one drink and then I will take you home, I swear!”, when you never asked him to promise you anything.
Sudden unsolicited promises can be a sign of an underlying sinister agenda.
The stranger projects some kind of non threatening authority:
“I’m the security guard/ the park ranger/ a police officer.”
“You didn’t see the signs; this is closed. I’ll escort/drive you out of here.”
‘You shouldn’t be alone here; we are on the lookout for a serial killer in this neighborhood. Get in and I’ll drive you out of here.”
No law enforcement official would tell you that there was a serial killer, for
they avoid giving outside knowledge TO ANYONE of an ongoing case for media avoidance purposes.
Some serial killers come tricked out with police identification and police-like vehicles.
Insist that he call a uniformed backup if you did nothing wrong but are being “arrested.”
Challenging your personality:
The killer labels you, in a critical way, hoping that you will attempt to prove them wrong, “You’re too weak to help me lift this box into the back of my van.”
“You’re not frightened of me, are you?”
Often a killer will manipulate you to “team up” with him.
You and he instantly become a “we” – “I hate drinking alone, I know a great place we can go to up the road.”
“I’m going there too, we can get there in my car.”
This attempt to bond with you is a way to quickly establish a familiarity.
A serial killer will impose his help on you, hoping that you will feel obligated to help him back.
“Let me help you carry that to your car” will lead to “Can you give me a lift to the corner?”
You leave your home to find your tire flat.
“Let me change that flat tire for you” will be followed by “May I come inside to wash my hands?”
But he WAS the one who punctured the tire in the first place.
Having already accepted his help, he hopes that you feel bad enough to refuse a request like that.
Once inside, you’re a murder victim.
An appeal to a feeling of being vulnerable:
“Help me find my lost puppy before it gets away too far.”
“I need to drop off this medicine to an elderly person upstairs, but I can’t legally park here; just come and sit in my car while I run in for five minutes?”
“My little girl is missing, will you help find her?”
– Not taking,” no”, for an answer-A classic murderer’s tool.
No matter how many times you say, “That’s okay, I don’t need your help,” the stranger insists on helping you.
If you give some weak excuse or sound unsure, he will persist.
Do not be afraid to be loudly blunt and rude: “I said, NO! Go away! I do not want your help!.”
Many are loquacious and charming, but it’s only a ‘tool’ to conceal a demonic intent:
“I’m the most cold-blooded sonofabitch you’ll ever meet,” said Ted Bundy.
“I just liked to kill, I wanted to kill.”
The signature symptom of the psychopath is his inability to see others as worthy of compassion.
Victims thus become dehumanized, “flattened into worthless objects in the murderer’s mind”.
John Gacy, who never showed an ounce of remorse, called his victims “worthless little queers and punks,” while the “Yorkshire Ripper” Peter Sutcliffe declared that he was “cleaning up the streets” of ‘ human trash’
All of these killings were managed with an initial charming smile, a smile carefully contrived, before a lethal knife or hammer fell.
Would YOU have easily fallen, do you suppose, for one of these “tricks of the trade”?
Would you have been naturally leery enough to survive such tactics or would you be clearly very prone to an evil stranger’s charm and closeness, to become yet another murder victim?
And many rare victims who survived later said, “But, he was so sweet!”
Sweetness, is not the same as being sweet.
Sweetness can be used as a deadly manipulative tool.
A charming smile can mask the most evil intentions.
Once one is alerted to these uniform techniques employed by many incarcerated successful, serial murderers, one can teach one’s spouse, one’s children, one’s colleagues and one’s easily duped friends, to be much less trusting, to raise their fence higher, around themselves, to prevent them from becoming the next victims of a murderer.
One must teach one’s loved ones to be immediately suspect, of any closehand encounter with a stranger, who pretends a stance of authoritarianism, need, or one warmly disarmingly charming, widely used tactics that serial killers rely on.
An approaching car, one that passes close by you, while you are out walking late, in an abandoned hour, or in an empty place like a deserted parking lot, could easily spell death.
A serial killer, hidden behind the dark car windows, could , at gunpoint, have you, or your wife or daughter within its interiors, within less than five seconds.
One must be taught, instead, to be poised to bolt, to be alarmed by any car’s or person’s close proximity to one, in a lonely place and moment, and to lose one’s sense of blind trust, or blind faith of one’s presumed safety with a total stranger.
The suspicious always appears “ordinary”, until suddenly, it isn’t.
Can anything be done to change and redeem such serial killers’ dark minds and souls?
Capital punishment for such murderers is spiritually counter-intuitive, because after physical death, they linger on this plane and join together with dark others, to accomplish yet more evil than they ever could have when they were alive.
This is yet another salient reason to discard the death penalty, unless and until their hearts finally are shifted..
Only God can and will “shift” them, in His own time; until such time, don’t talk to strangers..