The lunatic fringe religious, stubbornly hold that alien encounters are not with aliens, but only with  demons, and every ‘spirit’ , to them, is  strictly a demon, as well, because their one and only reference  BOOK, the Bible, does NOT remotely mention aliens, but DOES repeatedly, mention demons.

These stubbornly inculcated religious people can only consider, what their thumped BOOK does refer to, or lobsters will crawl out of their ears, for the sin, of Original Thought, if they dare accept aliens as space aliens, not ‘fallen angels’..

When, however, non-religious alien abductees get too close to finding or reaching  truths about aliens and their involvement in our broad history, and in their personal lives, they are universally diverted to and distracted with new- found keen interest in ghosts, haunting and demonics, a common alien ruse and ploy, which works well, as a distraction and a diversion from alien realizations.

Paradoxically, reptilians and small dark greys, the gangster fringe element of space aliens,  relish any chance to impostor as ghosts and poltergeists, since they enter and exit our physical reality from the same astral dimensional portals that ghosts and demons use,  they  do especially delight, in muddling the E.T. picture, for any asture researcher.

Earth is under invasion, one person at a time.


He is flying high over lush green tree landscape, over rolling tree lined hills and though he knows that it must be night, within the tractor light-beam, under a moving craft,  the fields and countryside below are lit up as though it were day, but he knows it’s night, because he is told that he is dreaming.

For a few brief seconds, until he is drawn into the craft, he sees the green granular nature of the trees below, and feels the a visual exhilaration of flying, but rather than fear, he is filled with a combined sense of peace and joyous happiness.

He marvels at the texture and color of his neighborhood, and his movement above it.

He is dreaming, but he is awake. The smaller craft lands near a much larger ship, hiding in plain sight, in a field.

He is told by a small dark grey alien, always just out of sight, that he is to wait on line, for a tour of a country estate.

He is numb and is dreaming. but he feels that he is awake.

He  moves forward, people in front of him and in back of him,   on a narrow path surrounded by a false screen memory of a flat, unidimensional static scene,  a photograph of an English garden.

It is hot and humid with the rank smell of soil.

People clutch what looks like brochures and move slowly in a single line, towards the country estate., bored, and mildly interested.

He approaches the door of the large alien craft.

A ticket taker sits at the entrance way, on a stool behind a lectern, observing the entering crowd, seen as a slim teenager.

He thinks it odd, that such a young caretaker should seemingly be in charge, and as he lifts his eyes to meet  the teen’s gaze,  the young boy turns into a kindly old man.

“It’s mind control, not shape-shifting”, he is told, by a sonorous tour-guide’s voice, in answer to his unasked thought.

Everyone is awake but also dreaming.

Inside is a waiting room, dirty, dull and round, a white room with no adornments and a black floor.

He awakens, dreaming.

It is a dream within a dream.

Awake again, briefly, he is dreaming while standing upright, walking in his sleep, climbing  a steep metal stairway ladder path-bridge, that leads to a very large room at the top of the stairs.

Someone in front of him dreams, and wakes up dreaming.

He looks to his right, as he climbs, to see  an enormous domed -curved window which makes up the staircase’s whole upper wall of the alien craft, and as he climbs, feeling very numb, he pauses, and stops the line of mass abducted people.

He looks out of the window and sees the Earth and the Moon, opposite each other, hanging in the blackness of space.

He places his arms on the curved railing where the staircase meets the bottom of the window and cups his chin on his hands, to understand the raw beauty of what he sees:

Outside is blackness.

The Earth, in the far right portion of the glass window, hangs suspended in a black nothingness, swimming in blue-white haze;  a large red area the desert of North Africa, or the Arabian peninsula.

Silver and bright, the Moon, far to the left portion of the glass, also hung suspended in a black nothingness.

Far away, violet splashes of nebulae and points of red pinpoint starlight intersperse with millions of white stars.

Chin in his hands, he leaned over and says in a wistful, admiring tone,

“These people who live at THIS estate have some view; what a view!”

The small dark grey alien tour guide was startled and  the window’s 3-D space scene, becomes  a painted uni-dimensional flat portrait,  of an English garden landscape.

Chin in hands, still looking out of the window, but now at the expanse of poster-like green lawn, of a garden landscape, he dully repeats, They DO have a nice view.”

The tour guide, startled to hear him repeat this praise, seemingly unaware that the scene of the garden had already worked to distract him,  knee-jerk- reflex -overreacted; he is slammed with a mind control jolt.

 The alien creature tightens and magnifies its short psychic leash of control to throw him into a vivid emotional ecstasy, to look down at his feet and away from the window’s view.

The simple metallic ladder- path underfoot, transforms into carved inlaid wood one, delicately patterned and dazzlingly ornate, an inlaid ebony and maple wood design, cryptic and deeply beautiful in motif and complexity.

He is forced to kneel to examine it,  his eyes now away from the stars, Earth and moon, seen outside the curved window .

Powerful awe, love, and wood admiration, a godlike reverence flashes through his mind at the mirage of the wood designed staircase, suspended in air.

Complex, gorgeous and lushly constructed in multicolored woods, a forced religious awe  coursed through his brain, which thrilled him, an  tsunami of  deep awe for the dazzling wood pattern, and for the  unknown architect, overwhelms and distracts him, an attempt to get him to forget what he had seen outside of the craft’s window.

The sleeping line of climbing people is stopped by his fawning and repeated examination of the simple metal staircase, as he repeatedly retraces his steps to examine it, in a rapture.

The tour guide, just out of sight, presumed that it was enough to have worked and a paternal, impatient voice, now said in his head, “Just keep going; it will be there for you to see, when you get back.”

“But, things change so quickly, in dreams”,  he thought ,” and this gorgeous wood stairway, will likely not be there.”

He lingers, enthralled.

The alien ‘ guide’,  who had him and all the others within a snug cocoon of illusion, had deftly made a simple metal staircase, the un-rightful recipient of that stolen awe, of the magnificent scene viewed outside the craft’s window.

But when he awakened, he DID remember the staircase and then his awe of the spectacular space scene outside the curved window of the alien craft; ” Astounding creatures, uncanny, psychic, mind-bending,  leash-controls.” he had  dully thought when he awoke exhausted, with a dull headache and a copious nose bleed, more tired getting up, than he had been, going to bed.


Abductions and their remnant elusive memories have opened all this for me, a confirmed atheist, UNTIL I saw aliens float me out of my body, in my bed, at night.

Then, I knew that they were more interested in an essence, that I never suspected I had: a soul.

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