|Tactics and motives of the occupants of UFOsby Paul Schroeder
Posted: 00:47 October 5, 2009
It started at 8:00 P.M Saturday night , December 2nd, after a series of ice storms in New York. The ground ice crunched under my feet, white-blue icy-snow covered the sidewalks, underfoot; overhead, a total, low, thick, overcast ceiling (temperature about 30 degrees, and very little wind.)
I glanced up, coming down my driveway into my backyard pantry door and almost dropped my groceries. UFOs were assembling, overhead, their engines, below, glowing dark red against the blackness. I stared, puzzled ,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 amidst the reddish circular craft bottoms; 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.
My mind could not accept sudden realization. What looked like a red child's balloon floated into view, a bright red against the stars and outlined blackness. The first red balloon stopped, joined by two more, which floated in and hovered equidistant from the first.
All three, now four and five, now,six and seven, now eight and nine balloons hung red, overhead, stopped, in the center of the cloud 'hole'. As I stared upwards, at neck breaking zenith, puzzled at their no longer drifting motion, three more floated into view, at the rear of the growing formation, a flotilla of closely assembled red balloons!
All hung motionless, overhead , as I slowly, now for the first time, 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 nine or ten escaped red- children's balloons, hovered in the center of a circular blackness with bright stars, cut into a heavy white cloud cover. What could they be? Balloons drift with the wind, I thought, not group, in place, together; they're not migrating, hovering birds; what are they!?
I stared in wonder, awe tingling my forehead, stomach and arms. My mind reached out to them for a long minute, in intensity.
Their color changed from bright red to light lavender purple, all together, all at once. Quickly, flashing away, 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,still twinkling with stars,but craft empty.
I am convinced that this "sighting" has everything to do with the onset of spiritual and mind 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, in the clouds necessary for their needing visibility, or was it designed, 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; there must be many like me, aware, resistant, troubled, and amazed.
Possible alien abduction?
If nothing else, these 'critters', operating those craft, have renewed wonder, in my life, that long lost sense of AWE and also renewed much faith. I now trust that the unseen does exist for malevolent UFO 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 of consciousness. Now, my astral body wanders unknowing, while I sleep, among beasities and monsters.
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 sits up and is 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.
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