268 lines
15 KiB
Plaintext
268 lines
15 KiB
Plaintext
SUBJECT: THE RECALL FILE: UFO2649
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First, before I go into detail about my 1988 experience I want to thank
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all of you for your interest and possible support. I hope I don't
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disappoint any of you.
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As I mentioned at the onset of my threads, understanding where I am
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coming from is an essential element to how you may look at the
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submission of facts and that is why I uploaded "The Recall" and why I
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listed the stories I have written along with their copyright dates.
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My incident took place roughly three months after writing "Sayo"
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which was about my second OBE or Astral flight. And, by this time felt
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positively convinced, beyond any doubt, that what I was experiencing
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was *REAL.*
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Also by this time I had listened to John Lear speak on a late night
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radio talk show on numerous occasions and though I somehow knew that
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much of what he said was true, I rapidly got sick and tired of him
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always saying the same thing. "If you see a flying saucer, run for your
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life." So tired that on several occasions I tried to call the Las Vegas
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station using their 800 number. I never got through and finally gave up
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trying. I also quit listening to the show.
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The night the tribulation happened was on my first night off and had
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gone to bed early since I wasn't actively working on any writing. At
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roughly 1:30 a.m, September 13, 1988, I woke up and at first I thought
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someone had called my name. Which would have been impossible since I
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live alone. Anyway, whatever caused my waking did so in such away that
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further sleep was impossible. This being the case I got up and went
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into my front room thinking that since I was up, maybe I should do some
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more writing.
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True, I wasn't working on anything important but I did have another
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novel in progress. I hadn't gotten beyond chapter three and for me this
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was very unusual. Before this, when the urge to write hit, the words
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nearly jumped onto the screen.
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Instead of turning on the computer, I turned on the radio and the
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first voice I heard was Art Bell talking to his guest, John Lear.
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At this point I wanted to turn the radio off, but I couldn't. An
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inner force, forced me to sit down and listen and I endured his
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comments. That night he was speaking about the vortex at Blue Diamond,
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saying that this was one of the points that the UFOs enter our
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dimension. This too, was old hat but the topic quickly changed when one
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of the callers asked about Area 51. That did it. Area 51 and the
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government coverup was John's favorite topic and he went into his
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normal squeal saying, "Run for your life."
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That did it for me, too. I picked up the telephone and dialed the 800
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number even though I honestly never thought I would get in. But I did.
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Art answered the call on the first ring and when he asked me if I
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wanted to talk to John, I nearly panicked. Everything I planned on
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saying during all the other attempts vanished from my mind and I found
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myself almost speechless. I should have remained that way. I managed to
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tell John I though he was full of it. (I believe I used the correct
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four-letter word, too) Naturally, he wanted to know what I meant so I
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told him.
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Talk about a disaster.
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John wouldn't have anything to do with my idea that there were
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hundreds, perhaps thousands of Incarnates walking on the planet who
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came from the stars. He wasn't bending an inch and kept insisting only
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bad aliens visited the Earth.
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But he did ask me why I thought this. What could I do? As I mentioned
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by this time, I fully believed what I was writing as truth so I told
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him that I myself, might even be one. For that I got a quick laugh and
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a quicker, disconnect. And, as expected, for the next fifteen or so
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minutes the calls went something like:
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'Who was that nut up at Tahoe.'
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'Somebody better get the guys in white coats up there before he does
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some damage.' Etc. Turning off the radio I went back to bed and
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immediately dropped off to sleep. I woke just as suddenly but I wasn't
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in my bed.
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At first I didn't know where I was because I couldn't see anything
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because a tremendously bright light shown down on my body. It felt so
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close, I could feel the heat it radiated and at the time I felt certain
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the light would actually burn me.
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I'm not sure, but at that point I must have screamed because that's
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when I got my first glimpse of one of the beings. But it was only a
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shadow and I knew right away I didn't want to be where I was. Without
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anyone saying anything, the light gradually dimmed as it rose and as it
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did, several other figures closed in. This time I could see them. I
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have no doubt at all that I screamed when this happened. I also tried
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to move, to get off the bunk, bed, or whatever I was on, but I
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couldn't. I couldn't move anything except my head and I could only move
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that, sideways.
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"You have been a bad boy, Jack." I wanted to know who said that. The
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thing standing at my side couldn't have. He didn't have a mouth and the
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only thing I saw on his swollen head was large black eyes. The only way
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I can describe those eyes is to say they appeared fathomless. They
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reminded me of the eye's of a deer I shot on my one and only hunting
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trip.
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[Note. At this point in time I hadn't read or even heard of Strieber's
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book, Communion. The only book I had read dealing with any aliens was
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"Light Speed," and it referred to Meier's experiences in dealing with
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the race who came from the Plaiedes.] When I realized that the voice I
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heard wasn't really a voice but only a feeling -- [like one gets when
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reading to oneself or silently talking to oneself] -- I knew
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instinctively the words came telepathically. The knowledge didn't help.
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If anything, it frightened me even more because my only other
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telepathic thought transference was through whom I called Ya.
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By this time the bright light faded enough for me to see the room and
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the other creatures. And, creature's was the only word to describe the
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things moving about the low table I lay on. None of them stood over
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four feet tall and most stood only about three feet tall. I counted
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five or six of these beings. The only thing any of them had in common
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was their big swollen heads, big eyes and grayish skin. The character
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standing next to me was the most human-like because he was the only one
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that had four fingers and a thumb on each hand. The others had only two
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or three fingers. They all wore the same thing, a one piece suit. It
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consisted of boots and gloves and had they not been in different colors
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I could have said they weren't clothes but merely part of their bodies.
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Talk about wearing something that was skin tight.
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The room I was in, wasn't what I expected considering the
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circumstances. Being abducted by space aliens, and I knew I was, would
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normally mean being taken aboard a UFO. But I knew I wasn't on a ship
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of any kind because the walls were rock and they extended at least
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fifteen feet in one direction and ten feet in the other. The walls
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appeared grainy. Not that I ever got to see much because various pieces
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of strange equipment filled the room. The wall closest to me looked
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like it had a mirror on it, a mirror that must have been five feet wide
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and at least three feet high.
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How I took all this in, I don't know because since I first woke, the
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voice kept saying the same thing, that I was a bad boy. I guess my mind
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finally reflected on this and must've sent out the standard question:
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why?
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"Because you have been told never to talk about us."
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This statement shocked me. I didn't know what he, or they, or
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whoever, was talking about. I hadn't talked about them.
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"You were told you could write about us." Now I really felt panicked
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but I also felt a strange feeling of relief. I stopped all efforts at
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praying for help and though I knew it was illogical, I felt my body
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relaxing. So much, I managed to say something. I asked the creature if
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he meant we had met before and he told me yes, many times.
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When, why, how?
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I felt I didn't believe him but again the normal reflexes, the desire
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to run, to get away, remained out of my reach even when they told me
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that they couldn't tell me why or how. At this point, however, they
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proceeded to show me when.
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That is when I discovered the mirror wasn't a mirror because it sorta
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devolved and I looked at an image from my distant past. I saw myself
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walking along a dirt road that ran along side a wide creek and I
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instantly recognized the place. I was roughly two miles above a dam on
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Cache creek. And, though I had been there many times, I couldn't
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remember this incident.
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Normally when I went there, I went there to fish but when I saw
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myself I wasn't carrying a fishing pole. When the image pulled in
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enough for me to see myself better I noticed my nose was bleeding.
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Seeing this, pained me and the being by my side must have noticed
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because he assured me everything was okay and that soon, I would
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understand.
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It lied. I didn't understand and it wasn't until months later the
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significance of the even surfaced.
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I must have still been questioning things because the voice told me
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to pay attention to the screen. That they would prove we had met
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before.
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The image changed and this time when I saw myself I was inside a room
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that had curving walls. I lay on a low table. I was also naked and I
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could see other beings touching me. One creature was holding a strange
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device and sticking it in my left leg. Oddly, watching the event didn't
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bother me. My emotions, like my body, seemed paralyzed. When the
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creature finished what he was doing I saw three small holes on my leg.
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Surprisingly, there wasn't any blood.
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At this point the creature told me they could prove I had been with
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them before and he proceeded to do just that when he said, "Look at
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your leg, Jack."
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Since I felt paralyzed I didn't think I could but right after the
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command came I discovered I could move. Sure enough, though the
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indentions were not as obvious now I was able to see the three holes in
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the exact place the image on the wall showed them.
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I must have asked the same questions I did before because they told
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me this too, would eventually return to my memory.
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After that I don't know what happened. I got the impression they were
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going to tell me something but instead I seemed to have gone back to
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sleep or blacked out and I woke up back in my bed.
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Since it was almost one in the afternoon I wondered if I had I merely
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dreamed it?
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I didn't think so because when I closed my eyes the ugly faces
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appeared in my mind. Often, during the next three weeks, I even saw
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those black eyes staring at me with my eyes open.
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I also quit writing. The novel I had started, I tore to shreds and I
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even seriously thought of destroying all the stories I had written.
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Oddly, I couldn't and a few months later the being I called Ya, again
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spoke into my mind. Her question, startled me. "Do you believe now?"
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I didn't want to respond. I didn't want to believe. If I did, I would
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have to believe that what my mind was and had been telling me since the
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ordeal, was true. That whom I called the Greys, were right and
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everything I experienced, my out of body experiences, my stories, all
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concerned them. Worse yet, it confirmed that what John Lear said, was
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true.
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"No, Kontor." Ya said, using the name they pinned on me during my
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first experience. "That isn't the way it is. What you are writing is
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true. So is what you recently experienced. Don't worry, it will never
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happen again."
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Since that time a few of the Greys predictions have come true. I have
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remembered the incident involving my bleeding nose and though I have
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never yet been able to recall anything about my previous abductions, I
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do remember how I got the scars on my leg.
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But I also know that what my mind remembers about the scars, are not
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true. The way I remember it I used to play cowboys and indians with a
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friend of mine. I always played the part of the cowboy and he always
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played the indian. And, as it was in some real life episodes, the
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indian always won the battles. Now, this in itself doesn't seem strange
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and it doesn't explain the scars. That's the funny part. While we
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played our games it seems like we liked to play realistically. I used a
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Daisy, BB pistol and John, my friend, used darts. As I said, this is
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only what my mind tells me about the scars on my leg. What it doesn't
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explain is how I could be so stupid to play such a game nor why the
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wounds never got infected.
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My bleeding nose isn't as clear but I do remember refusing to go see
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a doctor when I got home. I told my mother I must have done it to
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myself by picking my nose. Thankfully, [I guess] she believed me. Had I
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seen a doctor I feel certain he would have discovered I hadn't
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inflicted the damage. I felt certain that even back in the 1950's the
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doctor would have been able to determine that something a foreign
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object entered my head through my nasal passage.
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Well, gang, that is my story. Could it have happened?
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___Jack___
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**********************************************
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* THE U.F.O. BBS - http://www.ufobbs.com/ufo *
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**********************************************
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