stone temple logo
Parallel Timelines and the Nature of Time
carissaconti@protonmail.com

(Article updated as recently as 2020)

[ Note: A few years ago I was re-watching a downloaded episode of “Stargate SG-1” from season 3, called “Point of View,” original air date July 30, 1999 which deals with….parallel time lines/realities and alternate universes. It’s a repeating theme on the show actually, with several other episodes revolving around that concept. The world of SG-1 is clearly not the only way in which reality could have worked out for the characters, or for the people of Earth…and various episodes show the other possibilities that are out there. Very cool! But that particular episode basically says what I say here, almost word for word even. But the thing is I don’t own a TV, and never watched this series until the winter of 2006-2007 when my boyfriend downloaded them from the ‘net and we began watching them on our computer. The first time I ever pondered parallel time lines was when I was 17, in California, back in ’92, which I get into later on in this write up. Then again when I was 23-34….interestingly enough, somewhere between ’98 and ’99, roughly around the time when that SG-1 episode originally aired. But I purposely didn’t own a TV back then either, and so definitely had never watched it. In fact, I didn’t even hear of this series until 2001. I know what triggered me at 17 to ponder all of this, but I can’t recall anymore why I was thinking about it at 23. I just remember lying on the bed in a blank state, staring at the wall, pondering what I talk about here. It came from somewhere though, but where though, I don’t know. ( February 2009 additional add-on: The whole opening monologue of the 1991 Richard Linklater movie “Slacker” also talks about everything I note here. Was only just watching this movie for the first time this month, 2/09….) But I felt it was important to note this, as I don’t want people thinking I’m just copying some sci-fi TV show. Okay and yet another note: The entire premise of the TV series “Fringe” which debuted in 2008 is turning out to be…..parallel universes, as they call it. I wrote about the ‘parallels’ ;) between Fringe and the things I’ve been writing about on this site in my “Thoughts” section under the heading “The surge of conspiratorial/mind control/gov’t experimentation/abductions material in the media,” so just click on that link to get to it. But needless to say I wrote this write up, and the website, two years before the show aired.]


For every choice you make in life, there exists the choice you didn’t make, or the road not taken. But you actually did take it — on what’s known as another timeline. Do I quit my job? Or do I stay? Do I move here, or do I move there?…Or not move at all? Do I hook up with so-and-so? Or stay single?…Or choose him/her over there instead? Each and every choice creates a fork in the road, down to whether you chose to wear one shirt to work or another. Some timelines are so closely identical with such insignificant divergences that they pretty much blend together. Others are based on choices that are so vastly polarizing and far reaching that it’s a complete branching, and formulates a new version of yourself you could almost say. On some level, you wind up living out all the possible choices available to you in any given situation. But since you can’t be in two places at the same time — or ten million places, or more — you experience each individual time line as if it’s the only one. To experience them all simultaneously is too much for the human mind to handle.

The future with all its possibilities has already played itself out. It’s not “out there” in some far off future that hasn’t happened. It’s already happened. There is no time, and the past, present and future is happening simultaneously. If it wasn’t, then psychic people or those in a trance state wouldn’t be able to connect with people who are currently alive “in the past”, and people with intuitive abilities wouldn’t be able to glimpse future events via visions and premonition dreams. I figured this one out when I was about 17. I’d had several instances of glimpsing something before it happened, seeing it verbatim, down to the littlest detail, as if I had had peeked through a window into the future. Then the event would play itself out exactly as I’d seen. It occurred to me that in order for me to see something before it happens means….that it must have already happened.

So what does this say about the nature of free will, destiny, fate and how much power we have over our own lives? If events have already played themselves out then are we just going through life as a puppet that just thinks they are sovereign??? When we hop in our car and drive to the store, or pick up the phone to call a friend, or head to the beach on a whim because it’s a sunny day, are we really in control? What if you glimpsed an upcoming event, however mundane, via a vision, then you find yourself several hours later in the middle of it and everything is going down exactly as you foresaw….can you now change and alter what you do, what you say, and how the scenario goes in general?

Absolutely! Why? Because there is no one set future. There are multiple probable realities, all of which have played themselves out. When you have a premonition about a future event, you’re seeing the most likely outcome, based on if things keep going the way they’re currently going. That’s all. But it doesn’t mean it can’t be changed.

When you make a choice to either go along with reality as you foresaw it or take a different path, you’re selecting one of those realities and bringing it into the spotlight so to speak, and making it the highlighted reality. So to some extent we’re not exactly a puppet with no control over what we’re doing. We do have some leeway with our freewill. You could go to the store. Or you could stay home. You can quit your job, or you can keep going. You could pick up the phone and call your friend or go read a book instead. It’s up to you. All those possibilities have already played themselves out. It’s just a matter of which one you decide to choose and highlight and bring into the spotlight.

 

New York

If you have the gift, and you’re able, you can tap into those other timelines and visit yourself, glimpsing how you turned out in other realities, where you made other choices and decisions. I’ve done it, accidentally, and it’s always been an interesting experience.

In my own life, my parents created a major, MAJOR “time line divergence” when they decided to leave New York and move to Massachusetts. In retrospect it made no sense to do that. They were experiencing “marital issues” and I’m not sure whose idea it was to just up and completely leave the state they called home and start over in another state that neither had ever been to. But nevertheless, that’s what they did. So when I was two months old we moved to Westfield, Massachusetts. Both of my parents were born and raised in New York City (my dad in Manhattan, my mom in Brooklyn), and both grew up in the city, and then later in small communities about an hour north of the city. Both their parental sets were born and raised in New York City. All their family resided in either New York City or in those small communities around the city. They were New Yorkers through and through, complete with the accents and the lingo / slang, attitude and food preferences. But now…they were in Massachusetts. And later moved on to Connecticut. Then later to California, just my mom, brother and myself, after the divorce.

Does it mean though that there ceased to be an existence for them in New York? Not if the concept of parallel timelines is accurate. There would have been a time line divergence, and one part of themselves lived out the choice where they remained in New York, while this other aspect of themselves went off to create a new life in Massachusetts, Connecticut and beyond. In fact, there is the time line where my dad went through with becoming a New York City police officer. In this time line he passed the test and was accepted, but changed his mind…then wound up leaving New York altogether. In the other he may have followed through, and I’m the daughter of a New York cop.

I had no understanding of this nature of reality growing up in Connecticut, yet was inexplicably connected to New York City. Partly what triggered it was a class trip to NYC in 6th grade, which I’ll always be thankful for, and also the fact that I had a couple of operations at the age of 12 and 13 that took place in Manhattan. The operations required pre and post op visits, along with the actual operations themselves, so they provided a few opportunities for NYC visits that otherwise wouldn’t have happened. So those things provided the opportunity, but what was most telling was my reaction to NYC….to say I was “excited’ to be there is an absolute understatement. I had such butterflies in my stomach, such sheer giddy joy that’s indescribable, of which my 6th grade classmates didn’t seem to feel, and which my parents found amusing. It was the best place I’d ever been.

On the 6th grade class trip we visited the World Trade Center. I took pictures looking up at the building and also from the rooftop. It was the most exciting thing I’d ever done at that point…and I also immediately was struck with the idea of the buildings falling over. I didn’t envision them going down Las Vegas Hotel TNT style the way they actually did on 9/11, (due to being imploded from within…but I digress….) but I was struck with the idea of them falling over. I became obsessed (on a small scale) with the WTC’s each and every visit, collecting up postcards that had their image, and taking pics of them. What’s interesting is that I visited the Sears Tower while on a road trip in 1995 and felt nothing about it…and technically it was a taller structure, with an even better view, being that it’s on Lake Michigan. So it wasn’t the size of the buildings that affected me, it was something specific about the WTCs that I was tapping into. On my last visit to NYC in 1994 I hung out the back of my dad’s car and took what would be my last picture of the WTCs, running obsessive thought loops in my mind about them falling over the entire time. Buildings of that size…going down??? The thought of how that would be on the ground as that happened….totally scary. Unimaginable. But I could feel it. But, that’s a side topic.

Here are a few other, more telltale indicators:

  • At the age of 26, was emailing with a friend named Julie while we were both at our respective office day jobs. I was planning to leave SoCal in the near future, and was mentioning places I’d like to move to. She suggested NYC. I’d never mentioned anything about New York to her…in fact, I don’t think she even knew I was born in New York. Yet there she was, telling me I should move to NYC. Curious and “tipped off” to something weird happening I asked her why she thought NYC. Her response? “I don’t know. I just feel like you belong there.”

Julie had latent psychic skillz that would pop up from time to time, and this was one of those times. She could have said anything, like maybe “It seems like a cool place,” or “I feel like you’d have fun there,” etc. Instead it was that she felt I “belonged” there. Or in other words……I didn’t belong where I currently was. This isn’t my world. And that I can definitely attest to. This entire life/timeline is wrong.

  • Then I have my one “memory.” It happened around this same period in late 2000, early 2001, when I was 26. Out of the blue, while awake in my room, I had a flash glimpse of myself entering a pizza parlor in what I could tell was somewhere in NYC. It was pretty vivid, and seemed to be live time. Like I temporarily jumped into another body, and was seeing / feeling everything in that one moment in time. It was night time, and I walked through the front doors. It was tiny and lit by fluorescent lighting. More like a place where you pick up your pizza and take it with you, rather than eating it there. I can see the stainless steel counter tops, and most importantly, the two guys who worked there. The black haired Italian looking guy at the front counter, and the shorter, dark blond guy behind the counter making the pizzas. Both wore long white aprons. They both recognized me and I in turn knew them. There was pleasant mellow recognition. I could feel that I was a regular there.

It was just a moment in time. Nothing special. Just walking into my favorite pizza joint at night. I really dug that flash though, it meant a lot to me to spontaneously experience that from a completely different life in California. I also had to chuckle because of the fact that in this time line my preferred pizza has always been New York style. I used to always be on the hunt for it, and would try any local place I come across that advertised “New York style pizza!” ;D

  • Then in 2002 after I moved to Florida I decided to check out this pizza/grinder shop on my lunch break one afternoon that was recommended by a coworker. Had never been there before, but it was supposed to be New York style, run by some guys from Brooklyn. So I’m in there getting my food (I don’t even remember what I got at this point) and one of the dark haired Italian looking guys behind the counter is looking at me with furrowed brows, as if trying to place me. After I paid and was getting ready to leave he finally says “I recognize you….I know I know you from somewhere.” Knowing he was from Brooklyn I almost replied without thinking, “You probably do, on another timeline.” My mom’s entire family was from Brooklyn. That’s where she was born, and where she spent her childhood. But I caught myself. Then he mumbled it again, more to himself than anybody else, “I know I recognize you.” As I was leaving through the front door I glanced back at him and found that he was just standing there, watching me go, with intense furrowed brows, wheels spinning in his head. Some people would say he was just using a pick up line, but he wasn’t. I could tell this guy sincerely knew that he recognized me and was trying to place me, and the fact that he was still staring at me intensely even after I’d turned to go kind of proved it. And sure, he could totally have been mistaken, or maybe I have a look that other girls have where he’s from (after all my genetics came together in New York, so it makes sense I might look like people do in that area)….or maybe it was timeline bleedover. What’s weird is that even though the food was most likely good (again, don’t remember what I got but I know it wasn’t a negative food experience) I never went back. It’s like I avoided the place. And I’m not sure why, unless maybe on some deep down level I knew something strange was going on and I didn’t want to deal with it. I already had enough strangeness going on at the time, didn’t need one more thing to add to the pile. ha
  • Sometime around 2008 or so I had an interesting “dream” that may also be worth mentioning. In it I was walking down a street in Manhattan at night surrounded by all the tall skyscrapers. My attitude was relaxed, everything was familiar to me. Up ahead was a high end hotel, complete with doormen. The doormen were sitting down relaxing and didn’t see me approaching. I realized it was going to be an awkward moment as I got to the door and then they had to jump up after the fact. So I slowed and pretended I was searching for something in my purse, which gave them time to get up and be at the door in time for my arrival. The main doorman smiled at me and I smiled at him. I think we knew each other. I casually breezed into the hotel lobby…and helped myself to a free cup of coffee they had set out on one end of the lobby for people. I had knowing that this was a regular sort of thing I did, because passing by this hotel was something I also normally did. Maybe I was coming home from work, I don’t know. But everything was familiar. I had the feeling/knowing that nobody cared if a random stranger popped in and grabbed a cup since the hotel was rich and had tons of the stuff available. (and who knows, maybe I once worked there, there may have been a reason for me knowing about this. Working in hotels is something that I’ve done “over here.” Makes sense that I may have done it “over there” as well. And it may be the reason the doorman who smiled at me seemed to actually know me.)

But this doesn’t seem a normal thing to dream about. It felt real in every way, too vivid and weirdly specific (who dreams about having to offset a potentially awkward doorman moment?) and came across as a total real life moment in time. Only, in a “dream.” (on a side note for years I’ve had “dreams” of being in “other places” that in retrospect feel real, like maybe I’m just hopping over into another body and where I’m walking around, exploring or something, I don’t know. These “dreams,” whatever they are, usually always take place at night too. There is one particular repeating dream of a place I’ve frequently visited during the day. Same repeating two lane, winding, tree lined rural-ish road with mountains in the near distance against a piercing blue sky, same motel that always emerges up ahead on the left. One time I was inside a bathroom in one of the motel rooms, hiding out from “Thems” out in the parking lot trying to surround the building, wanting to apprehend me. The feeling I got was that I had gone against something that had been intended; I was rebelling in some way, going against programming/script, and now all I could do was just hide out in the bathroom, refusing to come out. So they had to “send in the guys” to get me and get the situation locked down. But that would be something more fitting for “Chasing Phantoms.” O.o I would truly love to know where this motel really is, and why I keep dreaming about it. Especially in that one instance where “thems” were involved. That’s the tip off that whatever it is, it’s MILABs related. Especially considering I’ve had other MILABs-related flashes involving being in motel rooms. Wouldn’t be the first time. Only in this instance, something went wrong. Which also wouldn’t be the first time. Have MILABs-related flashes of fighting back, saying no, even getting up and trying to run while in some sort of heavily drugged/tranced state, stumbling through a facility, trying futilely to get away.)

  • And something odd that happened in November 2010 was me having to remind myself that I’ve had experience with living in southern California, and specifically, being in L.A. !! This, after having lived in SoCal for ten years from ’91-2001. My mindset somehow slipped into this weird “New York mode” – even though in this life I’ve never lived there beyond two months old. I was glimpsing how it would feel to be “over there” trying to tell myself about “another life” where I’ve lived on the west coast, and have traveled all around and hung out in L.A. So it was like slipping into that other body/mindset and forgetting about this one, and I could feel the surprise as the me “over there” tried to imagine what that would even be like. L.A? Hollywood?? Venice Beach?? Orange County?? Really?? It seemed like a foreign land. I had to shake it out of me and remind myself Hey……..That was actually THIS life. You used to live in SoCal. You were there, for ten years…..remember?!? Then the other mindset faded out and I was “back in” this realm. It probably doesn’t sound like much, but it was on par with the idea of amnesia. Where the life I’ve lived “over here” was fading away for just a few moments and the other one was bleeding over on top, dominating. Ever since that happened I can now put myself into the “New York mindset” where I can see how this life totally makes no sense as compared to that one. Like switching over at will. It’s weird.
  • Then on a more serious note there’s 9/11. This was something I had originally included in the very first version of this write up back in 2006, but removed shortly thereafter because it felt too personal. At this point it doesn’t matter anymore, so here goes. But on the morning of 9/11 I was 3,000 miles away in Orange County, CA. (I rented a room in a house with three other people, plus a landlord who was there part time – I get into this situation in detail in my write up called “The Vortex.”) The south tower had already gone down, which is what I woke up hearing on my clock radio. Though I didn’t realize what was happening. The first time the radio alarm went off, tuned to Star 98.7, I kept hearing the morning show hosts (Danny Bonaduce and some other chick) mentioning something about a plane crash. Hit snooze. The second time….they’re still talking about some plane crash. A little puzzled I hit snooze again. Like, okay, a plane crashed, that happens….but they’re still talking about it for almost twenty minutes straight? That’s a little weird. They don’t normally talk about plane crashes on morning radio shows. The third time the alarm went off it was Danny Bonaduce saying “Oh my god!…the south tower of the World Trade Center has just collapsed!……” and that’s when I heard the rest of the details about the Pentagon, and everything else that had been transpiring while I’d been sleeping.

WHAT?!? I thought. I immediately leapt out of bed and ran down the hall to the room of one of the roommates named Todd, pounding on his door, since he had cable hookup and I didn’t. (I wasn’t friends enough with one of the other two roommates who had cable hookup to bang on her door.) As I yelled through the door that terrorists had flown planes into the Pentagon and WTCs he refused to believe me (“nuh uh!…..shut up!…..nuh uh!…..what are you talkin’ about?!?) so I kept having to pound on the door, yelling, Turn on your TV!! It’s gonna be on every station!!!! Just turn on your TV Todd!!!!!! until he finally got up and turned it on and opened the door to let me in. We stood side by side watching the events unfold on his TV, both of us in “holy shit!!” disbelief, with the remaining smoking North Tower in flames. And then………..it began to collapse too. Inside me there was this intense panic and I mentally screamed out “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” followed by the thought of, “ALL THOSE PEOPLE!!! THEY’RE STILL IN THE BUILDING!!!!”……and right then my entire body involuntarily twisted and jerked in this crazy way, my neck twitching violently. To the point where afterwords I couldn’t turn it. For the next three days I had to swivel my entire body if I wanted to see around me.

Things like that don’t just happen. There was some strange connection between me and the WTC, but I hesitate to even theorize what it was. But considering all the other evidence I think I can take a guess. I was furious when right after the building collapsed the stupid TV announcer, some older guy, don’t know who, was all flabbergasted about “trying to imagine the New York skyline without the twin towers!” and kept going on about that, like that was the most important outcome of all this. A skyline with no towers in it. WHAT ABOUT ALL THE PEOPLE THAT WERE IN THE BUILDING. !!!! Or all the ones who had already leapt to their suicides from the top floors of the building, the ones we would later see on the news standing precariously on the outside window ledge of their offices, trying to evade the heat and the flames, only to make that decision to just jump, realizing there was no way out, and that the news helicopters hovering in the air across from them recording them aren’t going to save them. Tumbling and falling to their deaths. The footage played over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again. One minute they were starting their work days in the office at 8:30 a.m., sitting at their desks, drinking coffee, loading up their computers, checking emails, getting ready to head into meetings. The next………this. Or the ones who were in the planes. Or all the ones on the ground, who were trying to run for their lives but got caught in the massive debris cloud. Screw the “skyline.” That’s why I’m fond of saying that the people that are placed before us in the media are many times, not human.

Shortly after I had a dream where I was wandering the streets of NYC at night, crying, and saying “What did they do to my city?!? What did they do to my city?!?” I was absolutely despondent, just wandering around lost, knowing that New York had been permanently tainted.

So……My city? I’d never lived in New York City. In this life. In this time line. In some other reality however it’s my city. Meanwhile in this timeline, where I had no car and walked everywhere, I found myself crying silently to myself for the next month solid whenever walking anywhere, running images through my mind of bodies tumbling through the air as they were forced to jump from the top floors of the WTCs, planes plowing into the buildings, buildings collapsing and people running for their lives on the streets. Over, and over, and over, and over, like a horror show I couldn’t get out of my head, affecting me in an extremely intense way that it didn’t for anybody else I knew around me. When I told my “dad” over the phone that 9/11 was the worst thing I’d ever seen in my life he replied, genuinely mystified, “Why??” :/ Needless to say that guy isn’t in my life anymore, though that’s not the main reason. But it gives an inkling into his emotional retardedness, and why I had no choice but to finally give him the boot out of my reality.

 

I get into all of this to illustrate the connections that can occur between two vastly different time lines. It’s also interesting to note that my younger brother Joe spent so much time trying to get to New York City. He was born in Massachusetts and grew up in Connecticut, California, then back to Connecticut. Yet there he was — always trying to get to NYC. At fourteen he ran away, with the goal of getting to NYC. Didn’t pan out. Then in high school he was stealing cars with his friends and using them to take trips into NYC. Brooklyn, and New Rochelle. Trying to get back, is probably more like it. Even he felt it, as he relayed to me.

One night when we were hanging out back in ‘the vortex’ apartment he asked me, If I didn’t know him, where would I guess he was from?

I studied him, the way he dressed, the way he carried himself, and thought of his accent and the way he talked, and finally concluded “New York.” He perked up. “You’re totally a New York boy. I would never guess you were from Connecticut. I would just assume New York.” Just like Julie felt that I “belonged” in NYC, he also felt that he belonged there. And as a consequence, he was always trying to leave “here” to get back “over there.” For both of us this whole life felt wrong. We were in the wrong place.

I’m sure my New York self feels it’s the only self. It can’t even imagine that there’s “another me” out there, who turned out so different…and yet, still very similar in many ways. I’m sure she’s heard stories from Dad, occasionally mentioning that “You know, me and your mother considered leaving New York when you were a baby. We almost did, we were going to go to Massachusetts, but we didn’t. You could’ve been raised in Massachusetts. Think about that one.” And I do…and it’s a wild idea. !! And to be honest, I CAN’T imagine it. It’s too different. So I put it aside and go on my way. And New York is all I know.

So why the split then? In this time line my family totally fell apart, and many negative things happened. No doubt it didn’t end well as far as my family goes. We’re all scattered to the wind, never to see each other again. Why would this time line, which makes absolutely no sense when you think about it, be created in the first place? I used to speculate that maybe there were lessons that could be gleaned “over here” that just couldn’t be gleaned “over there.” But now I theorize that maybe it’s a matter of what I was able to get done over here, versus over there. This life has been far more….expansive you could say, being that I’ve lived all over the country, and went on to have all kinds of weird, woo-woo paranormal and “MILAB” related experiences, crossed paths with some really fascinating people, and all of which has lead to many things, including this website and my book. Whereas with that life it seems I’ve only lived in New York, annnnnnnd…..that’s probably about it. (At the end of this piece I expand more on things, including more theories of why.)

I will say this – from what I’ve been able to tell, the “me” over there, while apparently still being “me,” seems a little more….I don’t know, dopier? Dippy? Innocent? The me over here is the equivalent of the person who’s spent time in prison. Hardened, with an edge, sharp, focused, aware of my surroundings, and everybody around me and how their personality is going to affect me, good or bad, relying on all possible senses, including intuition, at all times, as a manner of survival. When I was younger I was constantly getting shit from people around me (like at work) for being so intense and…different from how normal people were. So when I watch the show “Fringe,” which as I’ve discussed in my Thoughts write up seems to be pulling material from my site which launched two years before the show ever aired, I can relate to the “two Olivias” concept. Those who watch the show will know what I’m talking about. The Olivia over here, because she’s experienced some nasty life happenings, is serious, intense, driven and introverted, hits the bottle a little too much and in general has been a loner. The alternate New York City Olivia from over there, who has not gone through the same negative experiences, is more lighthearted and carries herself with confident, flirtatious swagger, and is surrounded by friends and family with a far more active personal life. I’m like the Olivia over here. And who’s to say how the me over there really is – I mean, a few random glances of brief moments in time isn’t enough to piece together a complex personality. But it just seems from what bits I have tapped into, the me over here is, like I said, the equivalent of somebody who’s been to prison.


Visiting a Scientology center? O.o

Another weird possible parallel timeline flash that I had back in my 20s, and which I held off mentioning here originally, involved visiting a Scientology center. I no longer remember exactly when I had this flash or the circumstances surrounding it, but I definitely remember the flash itself. It was like jumping into the body of my other self and experiencing a moment in time, same as the situation with seeing myself in the pizza joint in NYC. I was in my 20s, with roughly the same sort of personality I had in this timeline when I was living in SoCal in my 20s. But it clearly was not this exact timeline. I was with a female friend whom I didn’t recognize from this life. (In this timeline in my 20s I was mainly surrounded by guy friends, not really any female friends.) But we had a carefree fun sort of interaction with each other.

We were in some outdoor plaza sort of place that had a southwest feel to it. It looked like it could have been anywhere in southern California, Arizona, Utah, or even New Mexico. The sky was a piercing blue, with hot bright sun. The color of the plaza was almost kind of like a terra cotta sort of coloring, and the set up/design was that it was long, and extended almost in a mall sort of way, and where there was a down slope, so as you were walking along there were a few steps leading down, then it continued, with businesses on either side, until a couple of more steps, and so on.

Well, in this plaza there happened to be a Scientology center, or some sort of office pertaining to it. Me and the friend I was with had heard of Scientology and were curious about it, and we were kind of giggling and goofing on the idea of popping in to check it out, see what the deal was. I don’t know if we were there specifically for that, or if we were there for something else, and this was all just a fun, spur of the moment idea. I get the impression it was most likely the latter. To us it was this fun silly thing that we didn’t take seriously. We stood in front of the double doors, which were blacked out, same as the windows. And I see myself in this other body pulling open one of the doors and feeling the cold blast of air conditioning from inside, which felt nice against the blazing hot sun, and seeing the dark interior, which I sensed was very quiet.

And then the scene jumps. One minute we were both entering through the blacked out doors and feeling the A/C, goofing on the idea and having fun, and the next we were both hurriedly exiting through the same doors. I have no idea what happened in between, but whatever it was, shit wasn’t funny anymore. O.o We were seriously freaked out and getting the hell away from that place, ASAP. I can’t see the nitty gritty details of my friend’s face, but she seemed slightly shorter than me (I’m 5’3”, she seemed about 5’1” or so), white skin, brownish hair, loosely pulled back/up, maybe in a clip or a pony, and I have this vague image of the change in her face, and how alarmed and serious she now was, versus the vague image I have in my mind of her expression/personality from earlier, which was smiling and laughing.

I would LOVE to know what the hell happened in between entering and leaving this Scientology center. It’s so intriguing. To me this flash felt real in every way, and too detailed and odd to be some invention of my own mind. Though when I’ve gone online and researched Scientology Centers in the southwest U.S., none seem to match the physical description of this place. So who knows. Possibly it wasn’t one of the full fledged centers, and just some sort of field office or auxiliary location pertaining to it.

But whatever the situation is, it may account for my continued fascination with anything having to do with anybody who was a member of Scientology but is leaving and exposing the organization. I could read stories and listen to interviews about it all day. I don’t know why I’m so fascinated with it, because in this timeline I’ve had zero personal exposure or involvement with it all, and the only people I’ve ever met who have stories about it have all been online. (and which I eagerly read, soaking up whatever they had to report about it all.) A few years ago there was a big article in Rolling Stone concerning Scientology, and when I saw that at the supermarket, that was it, I wasn’t leaving until I’d read the entire article. And when Katie Holmes first hooked up with Tom Cruise and began acting weird and robotic in her interviews, with Scientology minders always flanking her wherever she went, I closely followed any story I could find on that situation. Practically obsessed in a way that I’ve never been about any other celeb happenings. And especially whatever tidbits were released concerning what she did to escape the marriage just before her daughter would have been expected to join the Sea Org. (It was like, “YEAH!! YOU GO GIRL!!! PROTECT YOUR KID!!!”) And then the way the paparazzi that normally stalk her around were photographing the Scientology stalkers that were following her around in an effort to intimidate and harass, as they are known to do to anybody who dares to defect. It was nuts and I found the whole thing endlessly fascinating. (To this day I admit, I’m still mildly interested to see updates about how good Suri is doing in life when those stories appear in the media ;D It’s stupid, I know, but what can I say.)

And forget when the HBO documentary “Going Clear – Scientology, Hollywood, and the Prison of Belief” had a trailer on YouTube advertising its impending release. I bought the book it was based on, devoured it, then watched the documentary on top of it. My tentative theory is maybe in another timeline I had some sort of personal experience with it all, and my interest over “here” is a bleedover from whatever transpired “over there.”


The more you move around in life and the less stagnant you are, then the more time lines you create for yourself. I do wonder about this actually — Nowadays, people move around more so than ever before in recent history. Job hopping, moving from place to place, relationship hopping, we live in a very mobile society, with more opportunity and choices than ever before — what effects does this have on the time lines we create for ourselves? ! It has to be pretty interesting. Things may even start to get a little “tangled.” I have a “me” that is still in New York, as well as the me that’s still in Virginia. But there’s also the me who stayed in Southern California. A me who moved up to the Bay area. A me who stayed in Portland Oregon. A me who never left south Florida. (unlike the current timeline where I left, moved to Virginia, then went back….) A me in Massachusetts. A me in Connecticut. And quite a few others beyond that. And quite a few me’s who’ve already died. I have “me’s” all over the country, quite literally, because that’s how much I’ve moved around in life. And having had more jobs in life than my age only adds to the confusion.

When one is split within so many times in this way, does it have an effect on how “real” your life feels? Can this contribute to reality feeling dream-like and surreal? I know that’s how my life feels — is this one possible reason why?

What about the idea of crossing paths with the same person/people on different time lines, in different states? When and if you do, will you feel like you already know them? Will there be an instant connection? If you branch yourself off onto a new time line, pulling you away from meeting somebody that you would’ve met on that time line, will reality find a way to get you to cross paths anyway? That’s something interesting worth investigating I think. Look at the people in your life, (family aside) who’ve been meaningful to you. Looking back over your lives, are there any places/people/jobs/schools, etc. that you have in common? Some way where it’s plausible that you would have run into each other “over there” as well? In this highly mobile and connected society we live in, the chances are greatly increased that some of the people we connect with are people we may know in a parallel timeline, under revised circumstances.

If you’re somebody who believes in reincarnation, but reincarnation doesn’t seem to explain some of the quirks for why you’re drawn to certain places, or why you may feel connected to certain people that you meet, then parallel time lines is very useful explanation to consider. To me, it actually has more validity than reincarnation. I can see more personal proof for it, although I still do believe in reincarnation. I’ve always had this connection to NYC…..but I don’t necessarily feel like I had a “past life” there or something. My connection isn’t to a New York in the distant past….it’s right now, in this time period, running concurrent with my own life. And as already illustrated, I have my own situation involving a clear “fork in the road” branching moment occurring where my family left New York when I was a baby. So for me, I tend to think this is the major explanation for what’s happening here.

Realizing the concept of parallel time lines and connecting to your alternate selves is like moving to a whole new level in the game. Reality doubles in size and suddenly becomes a much more interesting place to be. ! Especially if you thought you had it all figured out…only to find out that you didn’t even know the half of it, and the fun has only just begun. ;)


Add On

Back in 2008 or so I was watching a video on YouTube of black urban girls and women doing double dutch jump rope in Central Park, NYC. According to the vid explanation these girls would do their jump roping thing during the summer in the Park in front of the spectator crowds. And in watching the vid I just felt mesmerized…getting the entire “feel” of the scene and wishing to be there. I could see myself as one of the spectators walking through the Park in the warm late afternoons and early evenings, the sound of the city all around, the people, the entire vibe of it all. It’s home to me on some other level. And being there in Virginia at that time was just so horrendously…. wrong when I’d find myself connected up to that other life, wherever/whatever it is. To the point where I couldn’t even believe I was living there in that vague mundanity when I “should” have been “over there.”

So once again, I felt completely thrown for a loop with regards to my inexplicable connection to NYC, a place I’ve never lived, only visited. This feeling/connection was so strong in fact after watching the double dutch jump rope vid in Central Park I went to lie down on my bed and try to meditate on it all. I knew without question there was a me who is there. I wanted to connect to that me, get some answers.

It was apparently working too, because I felt myself slipping into a trance state, in the beginning throws of connecting up to something….but right then my cat Kitty bursts into the room, doing her little squeaky meows. (her “trilling,” which I’ve since discovered is the noise that female cats make when interacting with their kittens; Kitty would always make this noise when cuddling with me and/or licking my hands/arms. There are endless vids on YouTube of mother cats making this exact noise with their kittens.) She decides to get up on the bed with me, having to be around me, right at that moment, doing her adorable little trilling noises. So much for that. ;) I pet/cuddled her and slipped out of the trance, and was never able to regain the moment again, even after she left about 15 minutes later. So close to seeing something and getting some answers…… but something obviously didn’t want me to “go there.” Hence, the interference through the nearest and most easily manipulate-able vessel. oh well.

(On a side note, I feel it’s important to note that I’ve also had realizations that I am prone to the whole “the grass is always greener” mindset, and for all I know the hypothetical NY me longs to live in the kind of place that I was living in back in Virginia – quiet, low key, with lots of nature/woods/mountains, clean air you can breathe, and nice people. Meanwhile the me over here thinks the other version is somehow better off because I’m living in some exciting urban area like New York City. So I don’t want to sound like I hated where I was living at that time “over here,” because let’s face it….I was here because I – very mindfully – chose to be. Being realistic, both geographic areas/timelines have their pros and cons, and neither one is perfect, and I do realize that.)

But this led to a fascinating discussion about it all later on with my boyfriend Tom, who for those who don’t know, runs a website called montalk.net on all things metaphysical and “matrix” related, as well as alternative science and some conspiracy. So if you’re going to be discussing “What in the frickity frack is going ON with this whole deal?!?” then he’s one of the best people to do that with. The summary of what we brainstormed for over an hour, a conversation that gave me waves of chills, was the idea of overwriting a previous time line. Not a time line splitting off, but rather, something higher/more advanced “going back” and rewriting it completely with a new version, to change the outcome of events.

There was slightly more to it than that, including additional evidence that I have or have been given by intuitives that corroborates this, but that’s the gist that I’m willing to talk about here. And suddenly the pieces possibly fell into place. So many random pieces of various aspects of my life that separately made no sense….but which all could possible come together with this theory. That connection to NYC, the alternate self I’ve felt and glimpsed and who my friend Julie back in Cali even picked up on may have been the original life that I had during the “first go around.” This reality just very well may be the overwritten version of a previous version. And it’s why it’s never felt fully real or right to me, and why I’ve never belonged. I probably had a whole life that I lived out “over there,” a very real life that I loved, which I’ve glimpsed in flashes and in dreams and in strange intuitive feelings, but it’s been over written and plowed under. There’s such a strong desire to be “over there” during those times when I feel connected up to it, yet at the same time I know that I couldn’t “get it back” and recapture it were I to just say, up and move to NYC tomorrow. It wouldn’t be the same version I feel connected up to. (In addition, since the timeline “over here” has never actually lived in NY beyond the age of being a baby it would have a hard time adjusting to that lifestyle and vibe frequency overnight. NYC is a very intense place. Not for the faint of heart. A lot of people move there….then turn right back around and leave, ASAP, unable to handle it.) So it would have to be under the same context of the original version.

The other aspect of this “overwriting an original timeline with a new version, and a new destiny” involves my “family,” aka, biological relations as I term them by this point. The way that my so-called “parents” behaved in this life, “over here,” was just atrocious in so many instances, to the point where my “mother” was booted out of my life by the time I turned 19, and my “dad” by the time I was 28. Though by the time I cut him out of the picture I already hadn’t seen him in person for eight years. But part of the explanation for their atrocious behavior and why we never gelled in this life, and which fully fits with this theory, would be the idea of “place holders.” If this timeline was not the original one that we all were a part of, then their souls may not have come with me over to this one. So what I was dealing with “over here” were in essence, place holders. Relatively empty body shells that lacked the full spirit of the original. The originals were still back “over there.” Meanwhile I was over here…..dealing with who knows what. Stuff that looked like my parents. But it wasn’t the real them. Just empty placeholders, rife for being taken over/possessed by neg stuff, which is exactly what happened, as readers who have read my various other articles know, since I’ve discussed their behavior in more detail around my site. If on a higher level I agreed to go back and overwrite an old life, so that I could accomplish what I’ve done over here, which was a direct challenge to Negs, then trust me…they’re not gonna let that slide. ;) :/ It’s like, “Okay, sure….you go ahead and do what you have to do. And we’ll do what we have to do as well.” So possibly that was the price to pay for it. Being surrounded by empty place holders who would be vulnerable to possession/manipulation in this tug-of-war.

Even a very psychic friend of mine didn’t deny that there was a NYC me out there. When I broached the subject with her she prodded me to try to connect up to it. In particular, to see how my brother Joe turned out “over there” versus over here. I knew her enough to know that she wasn’t humoring me and trying to be supportive of some strange idea I had, but that she knew it to be true and was able to “see” it as well. At the time I wasn’t up for doing something like that, the entire thing scared me. I’ve gotten much braver since then, as evidenced by the attempt at trying to connect to it all during a recent trance meditation state, foiled by interference through Kitty. ;)

I’d like to think that if there is another me out there then maybe it’s a version of me involved in ballet and dancing, since that seems to be another one of those “time line bleedovers” I’ve experienced “over here.” I love the the idea of a me in NYC, doing ballet, tap and choreographed dance. Very awesome. :) Besides being told by a 90 year old man in a nursing home one time that I “have the legs of a dancer” there was this one night in SoCal when I was 18, when I was hostessing at a restaurant, and things were slow. With nobody around in the lobby I felt compelled to do this spinning ballet move sort of thing right there in the lobby…..right as a guy came into the lobby to pay for his check. He saw my twirly move and leg work and noted, “Oh, you know ballet,” nodding. Actually, I don’t, and said so, much to his frowning confusion. (I didn’t even grow up actively watching ballet on TV and had only ever seen one actual ballet performance in my life, that’s how much non-exposure to ballet I’ve had in this life/timeline.) I mean, the dude just watched me do it…yet, I’ve never studied ballet a day in my life. Kind of goes along with my penchant for standing around with my leg in front of me, toes pointed downward in a ballet pointe. Then swinging my leg around and up to my side, up and down, toes pointed down, and spinning around and doing weird ballet stuff that I’ve never studied. I just….do that for no apparent reason. I have for years.

Forget when I’ve watched videos on YouTube of ballet. (of course I honed right in on the series involving the New York Ballet, bookmarked, re-watched multiple times over, and over, and over.) And where they show everybody On Pointe….let’s just put it this way – the recognition/knowing was so freaking intense, fueled by the alcohol in my system, that within an hour after watching that vid and messing around in front of a mirror in the bedroom I stood on my toes even though I haven’t prepped for it AT all and should not be doing such a thing. :D O.o I just had to though, there’s no explaining the crazy urge/knowing/memory that overrode everything else.

My psychic Filipino boss Edwin that I used to work with at a hotel back in ’96, whom I mention in my e-book “Miscellaneous Stories of the Weird and Unusual,” even verified that in another life, YES! I did ballet. Because I flat out asked him one time, due to this “bleedover effect” that was happening to me as far back as the 90s. But now I’m beginning to wonder what “another life” really means. “Past”? Or concurrent other timeline? (or, overwritten timeline?) Whatever it is, bottom line, I knew ballet shit in some other existence, end of. ;D

That would be cool though if my other me is a dancer in NYC, even if it was only a hobby, and not professionally. My body type (5’3”, small boned and slender with long limbs, and for many years very) is cut out for only a few things, and being a dancer would be at the top of a very short list. I could totally see myself being one of the background dancers in a company or something, who knows. May also explain my obsession with keeping my feet nice. For years, always closely inspecting my feet to make sure nothing weird was starting to develop with them like with callouses or something, always pedicuring them so they were never without a pedi for at least 25 years straight, buying foot scrub, pumice stones, foot lotions, etc. Dancer’s feet are always wrecked, after all. Bloody, bruised, sprained and swollen, missing toenails, you name it. O.o Not in this timeline though. But it’s like some part of me “remembers” what that’s like, and was absolutely obsessed with keeping them nice. And in this timeline I was “re-routed” onto an intellectual path, which eventually led to trying to decipher the bigger questions about what this reality is and what in the frack is going on here. Over here, writing has been the sole obsession since age 10. I need to write, I’m “supposed to be a writer.” Over there, I could see dance being my big thing. Even gymnastics. That’s another thing that I should have been put into “over here” and have the body for, but wasn’t. Whenever I get super happy/excited my first instinct is to jump up and down up and down, boing!boing and want to start doing cartwheels. :D Just start flipping around. Even as adult, it’s crazy. And ever since I was a kid when the music kicks in I need to start moving. :) (when I was in 8th grade in ’89 Paula Abdul was huge, and I dug her videos. I admired her dancing and choreography moves, and that’s what I wanted to be doing.) But in this timeline everything was stripped from me, all the things I “should” be doing and was totally cut out to do, didn’t happen, leaving me almost no options.

Hypderdimensional manipulation. Time loops. Rewriting. Playing with reality and space time. But especially time loops. In my Deja Vus section I talked about at least one so-called deja vu that was actually a time loop memory. So if mini time loops can happen, then what’s to say that all of one’s personal reality isn’t one giant “going back and over writing the old version” time loop? Mini time loops within bigger time loops. I still believe in the concept of probable time lines that branch apart according to life choices, since I’ve witnessed this, but there’s more to the puzzle here. That’s only one part of it.

For those who aren’t even remotely familiar with these concepts, this is going to sound absolutely insane. I know that what I’m discussing here isn’t going to apply to the majority of the population, even those who have an interest in the fringey woo-woo. And that’s okay. I’m not writing this for them. I’m putting this out there for the few who do know what I’m talking about….

© 2006-2020
Carissa Conti