By this point, when our resident ghost decided to calm down, with me at least, it was fall of 2001. A lot started to happen come September 2001. Not least of all 9/11. Then immediately coming across David Icke within a week of that in a completely “woo” way, and who was for me a personal game changer, leading to my entire conspiracy awakening. As well as my renewed interest out of nowhere in researching alien abductions. Followed by meeting Tom (montalk) at the end of the month, and then experiencing my first known, overt abduction in early October, and which is documented in full in “Chasing Phantoms.” Reality was just packing it in on all fronts. O.o
During the same time where I had my first overt abduction (and scary attempt at a second follow-up a week later, which I dodged, and both of which took place while renting this room in the house of crazy roommates), Joe revealed over the phone from Portland about his own recent “coincidental” October abduction experience. It was the first time ever experiencing/remembering one in full detail, of course, “coincidentally” ;) and was the first time he was finally told what the deal was with him, me, and our entire situation in general. But he didn’t want to talk about it over the phone, of course. ;) Would only talk about it in person.
Talk about total carrot bait. And me being me, totally crazy and impulsive at the time with nothing to lose? “Alright then….I’m going to Portland.”
During what turned out to be my final week or so of being in SoCal, but which I didn’t know yet at the time, I decided I was ready to start looking into buying a used car, since I’d finally saved enough money. (And it’s not like it took me all that time to save a few grand, it’s just I had other people to pay back first. Getting the car was the last thing on the list, only after anybody else that I owed money to was paid back. First and foremost being the lawyer I’d hired for Joe. So everybody had been paid back, and now I’d managed to save several thousand more on top of it.) It wasn’t super urgent though, just that I was now ready to start looking.
I was at work when I decided this, thinking about how I kinda wish Mike could help me with that, since he’s good with cars (he knew cars like nobody’s business, and used to work for years in a garage). Buuuut….I would never actually ask him to do that. So I put it out of my mind again.
But within a few minutes after thinking that…..the switchboard rang at my job, and guess who it was. Mike. Just calling to check in on how I was doing with the whole car situation. Did I think I might be ready to start looking soon? O.o :D Just…..wow. Once again, Mike’s “psychic ear” strikes again. I told him I was actually….had even just been thinking about that…… O.o He asked what type of car I’d be interested in, and the price range, then said leave it to him, he’d see what he could find. I was looking for something Japanese – Nissan, Honda, Toyota, Mazda. Few thousand at most, ideally. (In ’01 that was the average price for a good/excellent condition used mid range car in SoCal.) For Mike the idea of hunting down a car for me was fun, since he loved cars anyway and worked in a garage for years.
And long story short he came back with a candidate – a ’93 Mazda Protege, in excellent condition, for only $2,200. So off we went later that night to check it out up in Santa Ana. He negotiated them down to two grand, and that became my new used car. It was eight years old at the time but ran like new. It was amazing, and I wound up having that car right until 2013. Twelve years. It was always a super reliable car with a naturally good engine.
What’s funny is that after driving Denise’s Mazda 323 and really liking the quality of it, and getting rides from Marilyn in her VW Cabriolet, with her leopard print steering wheel and seat covers that I thought were cool, I wound up getting a Mazda….that came with leopard print steering wheel and seat covers. The first and only car Mike and I looked at. It all just….came together, and was a synchronistic match. The car also came with a bumper sticker (that I scraped off, because come on…) that said “This is what a Princess looks like.” Which was another synch, since that was the nickname given to me by my super psychic, Filipino former boss Edwin back in ’96. “Princess.” His inside joke, tying into past life stuff. Have also been called “Princess” by a few other people over the years, going back into early childhood, which is interesting, considering I tended to have slightly tomboyish vibes, and often lived life the opposite of a princess. But that was the energy people were sensing underneath all that, something regal/royal, contradicting outer appearances.
Also during that final week in SoCal I was sitting at my desk at work one day thinking about how I’d like to have a cell phone. I’m tired of being without a phone, and since I’m getting ready to move forward to the next stage of life it would be good to have one. But…I don’t want to have to bother with going out there and trying to find a place that will sell me one. I’m lazy. :D It would awesome if they just like……came to me or something……..and it would be SUPER awesome if it didn’t require having to deal with any contracts. (back then in ’01 cell phones pretty much always required having a contract, that you had to be approved for.) So then guess what happens next. The very next day a traveling sales dude walks into my job, seeing if anybody there would be interested in purchasing any cell phones through WorldCom Wireless. No contracts required. O.o Went home that night with a new cell phone.
So after landing a new set of wheels and a cell phone, all within days of each other, and which equates to freedom, I gave notice, quit my job, packed up my room and walked away from the dead end, empty life in SoCal that was going nowhere. Ran off to Portland with Kitty to get those answers from Joe.
Even though my job was nice and paid me the most of any job I’d had yet in life, and I liked Felicity as a person, and both she and the owner, who was her boyfriend, had always been awesome to me, the company was completely disorganized, like nothing I’d ever really seen before. Just total mayhem. I was helping out with random accounting/invoicing stuff in Quickbooks (as well as handling everything to do with the time cards, payroll generation and check distribution for 2-3 dozen Hispanic under-the-table field workers they were employing for job sites, since it didn’t require dealing with taxes; it’s just straight up calculating time from all their timesheets and cutting straightforward checks for “pay rate x hours,” no deductions). But it’s how I know they had 2 million in uncollected past dues from clients….but also owed 2 million to various vendors. But could never seem to get it together to collect the 2 million that was owed from all these people over here to pay off all these other people over there. Probably because Felicity and the owner/her boyfriend were too busy running off on periodic vacations. Just always running off on trips, all the time, like they were literally trying to run away from their lives, and most of which they didn’t tell anybody about, so we never knew what was going on. Field supervisors would need to talk to them about important time-sensitive job site issues….but it turns out they’d run off again.
The entire office was a messy disaster of paperwork and blueprints and nonsense everywhere, including all over the floor, and meanwhile the owner’s psychotic Scorpio ex wife Jolynn was also working there…….as blackmail. It’s a WHOLE story in itself, but basically she threatened all kinds of shenanigans involving custody of their two daughters if he didn’t “let” her work there. So the mayhem she was creating to sabotage his business……as he meanwhile had to just……look the other way and let her do her blackmail thing in order to make sure she didn’t take his daughters away, and Felicity also had to bite the bullet despite being his new, live-in girlfriend……..wow. O.o Jolynn was the epitome stereotype of “Demented Scorpio Woman Gone Wrong.”
So even though the overall vibe of the office was mellow, and none of the relationship related negativity directly affected or involved me, it was still a major problem just knowing that all of this was going on around me, having to hear about it and witness it all the time, when the office was so small to begin with. Then adding in all the other chaos and business mismanagement on top of it…..it had just gotten to the point of “yeah, this has totally run its course. I’m over it. I don’t care how much money I’m making. There’s a whole world out there. Time to move on.” And move on, I did. Getting answers from Joe about our abduction situation mattered more than anything else, including money.
So I was in Portland for three months total, signed on with Manpower Staffing, worked at a temp gig at a really nice office in downtown, roommating with Joe, once again, along with Kitty. Just like old times. All of us reunited, which I wasn’t sure would ever happen back in June when he drove away down the street in Lake Forest in my old Nissan, destination unknown. Except things were now a lot darker, as mentioned at the beginning of this write up. Joe was deeper down a demonic energy path. Life was very, very weird. Portland was the weirdest place I’d ever been in, hands down, on top of everything going with Joe. But meanwhile contrasted by my completely normal, nice, full time day job in a downtown high rise building, which helped keep me grounded. But I have to say, it was REALLY nice to be living in HIS (studio) apartment for once, and to not have to pay rent or bills after all the “taking care of him” that I went through. Total novelty. It was like being on vacation.
But I got the supposed answers. Lotta lotta details, all of which I logged onto my computer in our apartment in Portland at the time it was all happening, and just put on the backburner, because I had no concrete proof for most of it. Many of those details are also recapped in “Chasing Phantoms.”
I will say this – it took me almost another 20 years to come to terms with many of those answers. I say that I put them on the backburner, but in truth I pretty much rejected them. Only to discover the long hard way over many more years of experiences and personal research that pretty much everything Joe ever told me about anything was most likely true. I just couldn’t deal with it at the time. But yes, corroboration did eventually come in over the years from multiple other sources for nearly every single thing Joe ever said or claimed about supposed every day conspiracies happening around us (all those endless stories going all the way back to when he was still in highschool in Connecticut that I just didn’t know whether to believe, most of which I don’t get into in this write up), our personal abduction situation and the entire nature of this reality in general. Things that he claims he was directly told by “Them” during that overt October 2001 abduction, and/or super specific things that he witnessed all around him during that experience in the underground base/facility he was taken to. All of which he should have had no way of knowing, and yet….there were sources upon sources, eventually all validating/corroborating his wild claims about things.
This was also the time period when I saw my first real world UFO, versus some “dream” and/or possible abduction memory. Two, actually. Variable sizes, changing from large to pinpoint small to large again, rotating through an array of colors not used in normal human aircraft, including purple, gold, orange and green, while idling in place. (Some bold ass shit right there…..just parked…..waiting……daring somebody to do anything about any of it.) And when they suddenly went white and started pulling completely impossible, rapid speed, multiple right angle maneuvers over the north Portland/south Vancouver Washington sky? Yeah, I’m atta here. :/ “I’m going inside, in case they come for us!” I told Joe, running inside from the fire escape where we had been watching this crazy situation overhead. (Not so “coincidentally” within a day or so of that incident there was a huge bruhaha of fighter jets tearing all around the north Portland/south Vancouver sky directly overhead at 8:30 p.m., going after something we couldn’t see and scaring the shit out of everybody since this was right after 9/11, along with a fake ass “cover story” trying to explain/dismiss it in The Oregonian newspaper the following morning.)
Once again though, it had been Joe who spotted the UFOs, running inside to get me to come out and see, all excited. Were it not for him I would never have seen them. It was always, and had always been about Joe, going all the way back to early childhood. He attracted in stuff like a magnet, and was always in the “right place at the right time” to witness an endless litany of conspiracies, just because his personal frequency was so off kilter. I was “locked into place, and always had been for the most part, so things didn’t just happen to me, and I pretty much never just stumbled across things on my own. An entire section of reality was sealed off from me due to frequency alignment.
And funny enough, when things like “the dude on the three wheeled bike in Irvine who was always on the same stretch of road every day no matter what time I passed by” happened, mentioned briefly at the beginning of this piece, it was only after Joe was back in my life on an active basis via phone……..telling me all about his adventures with the “woo.” Like somehow by being in contact with him on a semi-regular basis, even long distance, and always hearing his stories and psychically connecting up to him, it started rubbing off on me. But before we were back in contact like that? I don’t have any recollections of glitchy weirdness in my reality. That was “Joe territory.” As far as I can tell it only started kicking in once I was connected up to Joe on the regular, post ’98 and into ’99. But….I was at least open to it all, so there was that, and would willingly follow Joe around to witness or experience whatever he was, therefore giving me some of these experiences after all, even if “secondhand.” But that’s just it….I had to be pulled into it. And even then I couldn’t always see what he was seeing, as with many of the entities, and “doorways/entrances/exits” in our old apartment, and people’s personal energy/auras, etc. His vision was on the level of Kitty, since cats can see energy/auras and ghosts/entities, etc. But even better, since humans see full color, unlike cats. So both of them could be hanging out, with lines of sight tracking the same thing in the same spot in a room, but I would be the odd one out, unable to see most of it. It’s basically the equivalent of being partially handicapped.
Another conspiracy that Joe discovered and demonstrated for me during our time in Portland was the “Portland hum.” He claimed that there was a low frequency hum that was pulsating through the city, but which you could only hear if you put your ear down to the floor or against a surface of some sort, and at night. I think I remember him telling me about it over the phone while I was still in SoCal, but now that I was here in person he was able to actually show me. I didn’t really believe him, but complied with putting my head down to the floor late at night, just to see, why not. I laid there still for a short bit and……wouldn’t you know it. It was real. There was a pulsating low frequency hum of some sort going on. When I lifted my head up it stopped. Put my head back down….there it was. Over and over I tested it out, and I tried it on several nights. It was consistently there. Joe said he’d tested it out in different parts of the city in the middle of the night, and no matter where in the city he went it was always there. But you could only hear it by getting your ear/head down to the ground or a floor. Even if you were in a multi story building like we were it worked. It just required being against a hard surface.
Shortly after talking Joe down from the big “MK assignment” mentioned at the beginning, that one that would have made national headlines had he succeeded, he was arrested one more time for petty nonsense, and of course leading the Portland cops straight to me, where I was intensely questioned. That entire situation lasted for hours in the middle of the night. And then one more time after that of me having to deal with the cops because of that incident, for follow up questioning. This was after yet ANOTHER incident just prior to this, also while in Portland, where he also led cops straight to us, but where he wasn’t arrested, but we were both questioned. (There’s a lot more to that little story, but, I’ll keep it simple. But it involved some “woo” help to get me out of it, since the two cops in question were riled up. It was literally almost a repeat of the big “COPS WITH GUNS” incident back in SoCal, because the incident started out on the fire escape, with both of us looking down at two cops in the parking lot looking up at us. The same way the previous incident started on the apartment balcony, looking down at two cops on the sidewalk. And once again, because of something Joe had done. Only this time I learned from the previous incident and bolted inside, along with Joe. I’m not going to wind up with guns pointed at my head again. They followed us into the building however, and were banging on our door. But as mentioned there was intervention to abruptly stop what was happening, unlike the last time.)
I’d only been in Portland three months and this was the third time in as many months that I was having to directly deal with/answer to cops, because of him. It was the final straw. I’d warned him before though…..one more time Joe…..one more time you get arrested and bring the cops around I’m done!……annnndd….he did. Full on arrested, tossed in jail. (though he was released within days due to “overcrowding.”)
I meant what I said, so true to my word I finally ditched him permanently in life. Two years long overdue. Joe was arrested over the weekend, and meanwhile I was already in the process of entering into the last week at my temp gig. My final day was that Friday, almost a week to the day that Joe was arrested, complete with a nice little going away party from my coworkers. And the next morning, on Saturday, me and Kitty were loaded up in my car and heading back south on the 5. So it all just……..worked out. Kind of too perfectly, like everything else during this time period. :/ Joe arrested and neatly removed from my reality – decision made on my end to permanently part ways – temp gig finished, with a nice little party – back to SoCal.
When we crossed the state line in the mountains with the “Welcome to California” sign I involuntarily started cheering “WOOOOOOO!!!! WE MADE IT KITTY!!!!!” startling her. :D She jumped, looking up at me wide eyed. Never thought I’d make it out of that crazy place. Portland was so nuts I used to have an entire write up on my site devoted to it. Strangest place I’ve ever lived or even been to, hands down, no contest. It’s just shocking to me that it even exists, it’s just that weird. Like, “this place is really REAL? This is happening??” O.o
Landed back in Orange County, where I hung out for two days. Stayed in a motel with Kitty in Santa Ana while regrouping, and also hanging out with Mike at his place, mentioned earlier. But also visited Venice Beach for one last hurrah, with Kitty in tow. That was cool after 3+ months of absolutely bizarre-ness up in Portland, with its gritty, run down, weird vibe, rampant poverty, and the way in which everywhere you go everybody absolutely reeks of mildew, all over their clothes, because of the excessive rain/humidity of the Pacific Northwest. And where it was just always rainy and/or gray and full of conspiracy, 99% of which I don’t even touch on here. Just being able to sit on the sunny, cheerful beach under a palm tree in L.A., with Kitty in my lap, right next to the famous Venice Beach drum circles, pretty much my all time favorite thing about SoCal….it was just really nice to be there again. (btw….Venice Beach now, in 2021? Homeless Tent City from what I’ve seen online. :/ But it wasn’t like that 20 years ago, AT all. Back in the day it was pretty awesome. But all of that’s gone now.)
Kitty also got some attention, since it’s not everyday you see somebody toting a cat around at the beach. So for a few hours I got to be one of the kooky weird people that one typically sees in Venice Beach. While watching the drum circle under the palm tree with Kitty in my lap a homeless dude came up to me to marvel about Kitty, in a kind of serious “wow….” sort of way. He noted that he’d been sitting over there, watching her for awhile, because of “the look in her face.” It wasn’t like a regular cat, he noted. Just the way she was scoping everything out. It was like a person he said. Just…very interesting and unusual. So, that whole thing again. ;) “Kitty people face,” like me and Joe used to say.
The first time Kitty laid eyes on the ocean though….. ;D
Her eyes bugged out like WTAF?!? and you could pretty much see her brain trying to understand what she was even looking at as she clocked the wide open horizon, something she’d never seen before, and the sight and sound of the waves. It made no sense to her. This big wide open, moving…..thing. What IS this?!? Eventually she stopped looking at it, just ignoring it. “lalala….” ;D The sand was freaky to her too. I put her down on it and she just got this weirded out/skeeved out look on her face and went passive, gingerly just sinking down into it like “ew help!” I laughed and picked her back up and put her in my lap, petting her, and kept her there for the rest of the time I was there on the beach. Pulled my windbreaker over her body and part of her head, to give her that sense of protection/cover, which I knew she liked. Once on my lap, mostly covered, she relaxed and just started checking out the scene from under the windbreaker.
My intention was to hang in there for as long as Kitty wanted to hang in there. Basically, “You let me know when you’ve had enough and want to go,” as I told her. And she hung in for a few hours. Then when we finally found ourselves surrounded by what she felt was too many people on the boardwalk she gave a worried meow, while looking at me with a “!!” face. I laughed and was like, Okay, we’ll go. You did good Kitty! You hung in there! But that afternoon was a celebration that me and Kitty and my car made it out of Portland, all in one piece.
Meanwhile as I teetered on the edge of the “do I get in my car and drive across the entire country by myself to get to Florida, or do I stay here??” cliff. As fun as it was to be back in Venice Beach, SoCal still felt like a dead end to me. I’d been there for ten years total, and so much of it was just completely soulless. (and meanwhile the vibe in L.A. itself was straight up intolerably, incompatibly negative. By the end of my time there the only place in L.A. that I was able to handle anymore vibe-wise was Venice Beach. Any other part and I’d get driven out by the whirlwind of negative/evil feeling vibes that permeates everywhere you go. A phenomenon Mike independently corroborated as well when we both tried to go together one afternoon. The day was seemingly calm and beautiful, but the vibes were so “ick” we had to bail…..his initiation. He looked around on Melrose Avenue, frowning, and commented that we needed to get out of there. I readily agreed, completely feeling it too. oh well! We tried. The Venice drum circles full of people of all backgrounds united in music and dance on the beach, along with all the artists and creative people selling their wares on the boardwalk, was literally the only thing left I could do up there. Being on the outermost edge of the city, on the beach/along the water, and surrounded by people who mostly all had good intentions was the difference; go inland even just a few blocks and watch out.)
But I just wasn’t feeling it anymore. It was time to continue with the change. I wanted to finally experience Florida.
Deliberated for two days (“but….but…..Texas! oh my god! I don’t want to drive across neverending empty Texas!!!!! I’ve seen that shit on a map!! It never ends!!!!!! A bunch of land, with no towns!!!”) then finally decided to make the big leap after all. Hit the 5 freeway in the morning, pitstopping at Mike’s then-job in Commerce/south L.A. right off the freeway to say bye. (He was now working as a machinist.) He took a break and hung with me outside in the parking lot for about 15 minutes, including inspecting my tires and getting under the hood of my Mazda to make sure everything looked good for a cross country roadtrip.
And then it was our final goodbyes, the last time I ever saw him in life in person. Though we remained in touch for several years after, with instances of our psychic bond still rearing its head. 3,000 miles of distance didn’t affect it, it’s nuts. I even put him on the phone once with Tom later on in Fort Lauderdale, so they could meet. The entire reason I managed to survive the 90s and make it to Tom, so we could wind up doing what we came here to do (of which I’ve had several pre-incarnational memories of), is owed in such large part to Mike, so it was fitting. Mike’s role in my life was basically The Ferryman, ushering me through dangerous territory and across unpassable and dangerous bodies of water, so to speak. The protector guide who helps get me to my destiny, is the way I now see it looking back on it all these years later. Joe even told me this in the winter of 2001-2002, after we began talking about his abductions, one of the bezillion things he was told by “Them.” Basically, that Mike “is here for you.” Meaning, that’s why he came here. So “They” had their eye on Mike as well, since he was vital to my personal survival. My “dad” even became suddenly mildly obsessed with Mike once I arrived in Fort Lauderdale, as mentioned in “Chasing Phantoms.” Never paid attention to Mike for the entire time he was physically in my life in SoCal – seven years – never once asked about him or acknowledged him in any way, even though we were roommates for such a long time and I even lived on his floor for months. Never, not once. But now that I’d made it to my destiny and Tom…….it became total obsession. Any time I would mention Tom to my dad on the phone he’d go silent……then coldly ask me if I’d heard from Mike lately? Tell him something else about Tom…..cold silence……Do I think Mike will be visiting me in Florida soon? This went on for a bit of time too. He never once acknowledged Tom in any way during the one year he was back in my life again. Always went stone cold and just skipped over any mention of him and would bring the conversation to Mike. Same with Kitty. Wouldn’t even acknowledge a single mention of her either. “Fuck Tom, fuck the cat…..What’s the deal with your personal protector who helped ensure that you’d actually succeed in your mission, so Tom could succeed in his???” It was just all about Mike, a guy he’d never met and never would.
I told Mike about it over the phone and he immediately recognized what was going on without me even having to say it. I could hear him frown as he said “hmmm. Something’s interested in me, and I don’t like it.” So he knew. “Neg stuff,” operating through my “dad,” trying to get info on the guardian ferryman, so to speak. Where was he? Had he been in contact? Were you planning to visit? If so when? Mike Mike Mike Mike Mike. Just bizarre.
Once Mike got married though his new wife Melissa forbade him from having any female friends…..including even long distance ones like me. O.o (meanwhile she felt she was perfectly entitled to have all the male friends she wanted, lavishing attention on her……so basically, the same energy as Julie, but repeated through a different female. :/ ) So once it became serious with her that was where we trickled off and amicably parted ways, onto the next chapters of our individual destinies. There was no formal discussion about it, it just…happened. I became completely preoccupied with the Tom situation, and he was now absorbed with Melissa, soon to be fiance and then wife, and with a whole new circle of friends. Mike later psychically “reached out to me” (putting it mildly….that guy’s got powers!) in 2004, from 3,000 miles away to get me to track him down. Thoughts of Mike suddenly invaded my brain very intensely one afternoon in the middle of work in Fort Lauderdale, becoming so overwhelming that I was like FINE! oh my god!!! and hunted down an old email of his in my inbox. Then simply sent the following message:
!
An exclamation point. That was it. He’d “get” it. ;D (translation = “holy shit dude! I HEAR you!” haha) He immediately wrote back all excited that the “wish magic” as he called it had worked. He’d lost my contact info, but really wanted to let me know that they’d gotten married. (true friends – the first person you excitedly * NEED * to reach out to when you have awesome news of any type. :) And whom you can do so through psychic powers alone, because you’re so in tune that it doesn’t matter that you’re 3,000 miles apart, or that it’s been a couple of years.) We touched base one more time in 2005 via some emails, and, that was it. He’s appeared amicably in dreams over the years, so I’m pretty sure that was just him stopping in to say hi, the same way I once popped in on my friend Tiffany, mentioned at the very beginning, where I saw her in real time. Shirley and I also did that a few times over the years with each other, which is how I kept up on what was new with her despite her being back in Israel.
Anyway, drove cross country with Kitty in my lap to a new life in Florida. And yeah…..Texas went on for about 850 miles. O.o The first time I drove cross country in ’95 with Gary we did the I-40/Route 66 route, so we only had to deal with the pandhandle. But this time, driving on I-10 that cuts across the whole state end to end, El Paso to Houston…..yeah……entire stretches for miles upon miles where it was nothing but empty land, and no towns. After driving all freaking day starting outside of Mesa, Arizona, through New Mexico, into Texas and still not making it through the entire state, seeing pretty much nothing but dry, barren land, it even traumatized Kitty. :D There I was the next morning after all that driving, packing up in my motel room in San Antonio, and as soon as Kitty realized what I was doing…….oh shit, she’s packing up, I’ve seen this before, this means……back in the car……..NOOOOOOOOO! I CAN’T TAKE ANY MORE OF THIS!!!!!!! she went from calm, to alarmed, tried to hide by wedging herself between the two nightstands, her rump sticking out. “If I can’t see her then she can’t see me!!!! Then I don’t have to get back in the car!!!!” I just laughed, feeling so bad for her, pulling her out and cuddling and apologizing to her and giving her kisses. “Just hang in there Kitty! Soon we’ll be there!”
Got pulled over for speeding outside of Houston :D but the cop let me go when learning that I was en route to Florida from California….by myself. Wondered if I had any friends or family waiting for me? Nope! I smiled and shook my head. Did I know where I was going to live? Nope! I’ve narrowed it down between Tampa and Fort Lauderdale though, as I explained. I’ll decide though when I get there which one I’ll pick, still haven’t made up my mind. (Obviously wound up being Fort Lauderdale, as now mentioned multiple times.) He glanced warily at my cat, and my leopard print seat and steering covers, with the stickers on the dash board, including the psychodelic frog on the ‘shroom. All my stuff packed in the back seat.
oookey doookey. Decided to let me go with a warning.
By the late evening Kitty and I were in another motel room…..this time in Pensacola. We’d officially made it to Florida. I had a nice studio apartment and a waitressing job in Fort Lauderdale within one week to the day of arriving. Not long after I was lounging on the sand of Fort Lauderdale Beach underneath coconut palms, with my head resting on my backpack, much like Venice Beach only two weeks before, but minus the coconuts ;) ruminating on the wild ride that was the current state of my life. Seriously, within 13 months I went from hanging out with Julie in her apartment in Rancho with Dave and Mike, telling them about me and Joe’s supernatural happenings and our neg attacks in “The Vortex,” to living and working in Portland, Oregon, courtesy of my new car, to hanging out in Venice Beach for the afternoon with Kitty debating my future, to lounging on Fort Lauderdale beach two weeks later, 3,000 miles away, under coconut palms, with a new apartment, a new job and an entirely new life, never to see any of those people again. May not sound like much in writing, but look at that shit on a map.
Back when I still worked in SoCal I told Felicity exactly what was going to happen when I eventually moved to Florida – I would get a cocktailing job, on Fort Lauderdale Beach.
Close enough. I could have had the cocktailing gig on Fort Lauderdale beach actually……but decided to pass/forego it, for the full on waitressing job. Also on the A1A…..on Fort Lauderdale beach. ;) (in the end the cocktailing gigs in Fort Lauderdale had a more skeezy/off/“devil vibe” than the upscale cocktailing gigs in Orange County that I was used to, in Irvine, Newport Beach and Laguna Beach. So even though I could have had the cocktailing gig in Fort Lauderdale as predicted back in SoCal I instead opted for the regular restaurant on the A1A. Was there for a month, from March – April 2002, making good money, until seeking out full time office work once Season was over, and all the Snowbirds, tourists and college kids had abandoned south Florida. And that was the last restaurant job I’ve ever had in life.)
A huge split was happening in my reality, with a very distinct “before……and after……” delineation. The previous life with getting kicked out before graduation and the unstable rough start introduction into “LIFE,” all the job hopping, with up to three jobs at a time, the cross country roadtrip with Gary and total crazy life adventures, sleeping on Mike’s floor and then living with all the guy roommates, dressed like a skater chick, in what was at first abandoned/re-possessed houses O.o and the cop dodging and actual cop run-ins that went with it before they went legit, and which is a whole story in itself; then being with Steve the hardcore anti-spiritual/skeptic/Atheist, literal energy vampire who’d drain you dry merely by being in his proximity, as Mike even verified, and emotional/psychological abuser who continually ground me down/undermined me and drained my lifeforce energy for 3+ years, until I barely recognized myself anymore (but which already was in process before we hooked up, and which I fully saw, those red flags were already there…but in the end I decided to ignore them….so that’s on me……); trying to rescue Joe, and all the crazy paranormal insanity, and his endless criminal nonsense and cop dodging that came with it, and all my wandering around SoCal by myself, desperate to find any other interesting and aware people. Always looking for meaning, always scribbling in my journals everywhere I went, in the middle of the night, feeling empty, restless and waiting for when it was all going to finally START……..
Well now it was. Everything that came before was just the pre-game warm up. As “busy” as it sometimes was in those previous years it was mostly meaningless nonsense. Fun, sure, adventurous, yeah, providing the most extreme levels of high and suicidal low and everything in between, giving me some 3rd density physicality-based experience….but nothing that fulfills an actual soul mission/destiny. Nothing that provides true purpose. The next stage was about exactly that, and more.
By the time I left Portland Joe had already left as well, via bus, a few days before me. As I was heading east on I-10, approaching the outskirts of Phoenix while talking to my dad on my cell phone, he thought to mention that he’d heard from Joe….who was now in Phoenix.
I stared at the night time Phoenix skyline lit up ahead of me, eyes bugging out “!!!!” when hearing those words. Hit the gas and made sure I didn’t stop for the night until I was well outside of Mesa. Make absolutely sure there was no way I’d accidentally run into him.
Later found some arrest records for Joe for Phoenix. Figures. Almost everywhere he went after that he left a trail of arrests. Joe would later wind up in Florida as well, in 2005, in Key West. He missed us by months, after Tom and I left Fort Lauderdale in the fall of 2004 and moved to Virginia. No arrests in Florida/the Keys that I could find though. Based on the timing of when he lived there and left, it seems the only reason he left was because they were popped with bad hurricanes, during what ended up being the worst hurricane season in Florida’s history, and some of which put Key West under multiple feet of floodwater. Bad luck and timing on that one. He finally made it to Florida, which was the Big Dream for both of us for a long time. Even got a Florida driver’s license as I saw in my research, only to choose the one area that got majorly popped…the Keys.
I admit, when I saw that during my tracking/research of his movements I actually felt bad for him. Despite everything I never stopped rooting for him to make it and just find somewhere he could land and be happy, and hopefully, successful. But it never happened. I was so happy to see that he’d made it to the Keys, then disappointed/sad to see he’d gotten driven out by forces beyond his control. I can’t be a part of his life anymore, but I want him to be okay and to make it. It was literally not possible for him to be normal, and maintain a normal life. He also spent time in the New Orleans area, but there don’t seem to be any actual arrests there either. Then onto Savannah, Georgia…where he was in fact arrested. Later when Tom and I were looking into the (admittedly, very remote possibility) of Burlington, Vermont…..guess what…….that’s when I discovered Joe had been there too. And had been arrested, and which full on made it into the Burlington news no less. Mugshot and everything. We scrapped the Burlington idea for our own reasons, namely, harsh winters with lake effect snow. No thanks. !!! But knowing Joe had been there helped influence that decision. Not interested in moving to any cities where he’s already been, engaging in criminal nonsense and getting on local cops’ radar, and even in the news on top of it. Especially since we have the same, VERY uncommon last name, among other reasons.
It was creepy though how Joe kept just “missing” me like that. For years it caused me to feel like I’m always looking over my shoulder for him. For several years after we parted ways I was truly afraid that he’d show up on my doorstep one day. I would have been happy to see that he’d landed on his feet in some other part of the country. But showing up on my doorstep was crossing a line. O.o So I had to think about what I would do if that ever actually happened. If anybody had the ability to just impossibly appear on my doorstep it’s him, for reasons I don’t even try to sidetrack onto in this piece. But let’s just say he did impossibly “show up on the doorstep” once before, when there was just absolutely no way. “ding dong!” doorbell in the middle of the night, standing on the doorstep when he shouldn’t be, like a horror movie. And where he even admitted “….I don’t know how I got here….” (after he was arrested in Portland, and was mysteriously released and then showed up in the middle of the night 20 miles away from the jail on the doorstep of the condo I was staying at with my coworker Penelope, in Tigard, in the middle of February with 22 degree temps. As Joe relayed, one minute he was walking out of the jail, the next…..he was at the bottom of the hill leading up to Penelope’s condo complex, 20 miles away, with no recollection in between of how he got there.) So, I always knew it was a very real possibility/threat. The “Stuff” that controls him can put him anywhere, at any time, in totally impossible situations.
So what was my final conclusion, of what I would do if faced with my own little brother that I helped raise, standing before me on a doorstep?
I saw myself with phone in hand, and 9-1….already dialed. Ready to dial the final 1. That’s what it had come down to. I understood by this point that this isn’t my true little brother. I don’t know what this thing is, but he’s not the real Joe. And I’ve had two female psychic acquaintences independently verify separately that “Joe” as I describe isn’t “out there.” He doesn’t exist in the world, to both of their puzzlement. Here I am describing him in the fullest of detail and conviction as being still alive, but neither of them can psychically “find” him out there in the world. He’s not out there, as they both reported. Even though he was showing up as alive with current arrest records. One of the those psychic ‘net friends, named Leslie, did finally find Joe…..the real Joe…….trapped in some astral plane place, surrounded by demons/negs as she reported. She’s the one who saw the situation play out in her mind, the way he’d experienced too much by the age of 17 and “made the switch” with a demon that was waiting in the wings, mentioned earlier.
For years I was too scared to try to get involved in the situation with Joe’s soul, because I’ve seen what these things are capable of when they believe you’re interfering with what they KNOW is “theirs.” You’re as good as (attempted) dead. But I did finally attempt to help a few times with getting Joe released and saved from wherever he was being held/trapped. Here’s where it gets next level “holy shit”….. Years ago when Tom and I lived in Virginia we used to keep a audio-activated handheld Sony tape recorder going in our bedroom when we slept, for abduction purposes. And one night the recorder captured a really strange and unusual sounding “ping!” noise that we’ve never heard before. Tom took the recording and ran it through a software program that allowed him to slow it down and play around with it. Nothing discernable resulted. Then finally he resorted to playing the slowed down “ping!” noise in reverse. And clear as day was Joe’s voice. Saying “Save me Carissa.”
There are no words for what that moment was like for me, hearing Joe’s voice after years of not seeing him, and knowing for a fact that I never would again. I couldn’t speak when I first heard it. It was like the wind was taken out of my lungs. Finally when I could, with bugged out eyes, I told Tom “That’s Joe….!!!!” And then after a few more seconds of stunned silence on both of our parts, “Well, now you know what Joe’s voice sounds like.” O.o After I got my wits about me I made him replay it multiple times, over and over, to be able to hear Joe’s voice again.
The obvious question though is, Was it really Joe’s voice? I don’t know. I tend to think it’s Negs, fucking around, doing the same shit John Keel reported in detail in “The Mothman Prophesies.” But just in case I did attempt a few times to help Joe’s soul, and get him freed/rescued from wherever Leslie saw him being held/trapped, surrounded by demons.
Since parting ways though the (renanimated) body known as “Joe,” whatever it really is by this point, has basically crisscrossed the country as a homeless vagabond criminal. At last count he’d been arrested in and/or has warrants for his arrests in, in order, Connecticut, California, Oregon, Washington (apparently during the time when he was up in Oregon before I got there, but which I didn’t know about….our dad found out somehow and let me know in 2002), Arizona, Georgia, Vermont and Maine. It’s now been over two decades since I’ve had any contact with him. I don’t even know if the body shell is still alive. From everything already mentioned it’s clear that his soul has long since exited stage left, and was trapped in some other negative place.
The one thing I can say, about our old apartment, and the place after, is that it’s not like the movies. In the movies there’s always a plot, a beginning, a middle and a climatic end and resolution. There’s a point to the mayhem. In real life, there isn’t. There are no answers. It’s all random, it’s all sporadic, and there is no point. In the movies the supernatural is very action oriented, and exaggerated, with the walking rotting dead, and the closet door that’s the fiery, windy entrance to the Otherworld, objects flying all around the room, the ghoulish faced demons and the white apparition ghosts with clearly defined human faces.
In real life though it’s all subtle. It’s mostly just silent, shapeless blobs of translucent cloudy energy, drifting about, slowly changing shape. Just passing through. Just living its existence. Leaving energy remnants that look like fire embers, or glittery sparkles. Even the attacks on Joe and I, from the all black thing, as dramatic as it was to go through was still very anti-climatic by Hollywood standards.
In the movies, I’ve never seen one reference to “energy drains.” But yet, that’s the first and foremost sign that something is amiss. Your lack of desire and motivation, feeling like the life is being sucked out of you. Feeling like you’re walking underwater. And in the movies, it’s all “cold spots.” Never hot spots. Yet our experiences were mainly hot spots, with the exception of that crazy entrance spot over my door. Tingly hot spots, hot spots that blew hot air, like an oven, that make you nauseated.
[ NOTE: I’ve since come across reference to the hot spots in the works of Fortean/Paranormal/UFO investigator John Keel. I highly recommend both “The Mothman Prophesies” and “Operation Trojan Horse” in my Recommended Reading section. It’s 2020 and I’m only now just reading another book of his, called “The Eighth Tower,” from 1975, mentioned at the beginning, and on pages 30-31 he has this to say: “Infrared is invisible to the eye but can be felt because it is heat. Suffocating waves of heat are often radiated by UFOs and seen by some ghostly apparitions….” So, yet another random corroborative tidbit I’ve now come across in the works of Keel validating something I have experienced…..but have never seen discussed anywhere else. As noted in my assessment of Trojan Horse, all researchers into the “woo” are indebted to Keel’s efforts. To say he had the “alien’s”/UFO’s/paranormal’s number is putting it mildly. He was onto their tricks/deceptions, and general modes of operation, as well as seeing all the patterns in the chaos, decades before everybody else, coming up with very viable theories for what’s really going on with so much of it, clearing through all the mis/disinformation that leads so many people astray. I haven’t read all his books, but I’m now realizing I probably should because maybe then I’d probably find answers to everything I’ve gone through. ha]
And in the movies, they don’t ever talk about “windows” being ripped open that look like static surrounded by a ring thing, and which the family pet thinks it can jump into. In the movies the window thing is exaggerated, and becomes “THE FIERY EVIL GATE TO HELL!!! mmmmwaaaahahahaha!!!!!” It’s not just some ho-hum spot over your door where an icy chill comes down in waves and where you sometimes see and feel stuff wandering down from. And which elicits strange reactions from the cat. And in movies, you never see a character like my brother, who’s a natural magnet for these things, starting from when he was a baby, and for what are most likely a complicated set of reasons that are really far out there. Someone who you don’t want to let move in with you because you know that he’s going to bring shit in, and pollute the place up.
I’ve come to learn that abductees usually always have some form of paranormal/supernatural occurring in their lives, and that these phenomenon are not separate. They’re actually overlapping. Which means discovering/confirming me and Joe’s statuses as abductees/MILABs in the early 2000s put an entirely new spin on everything presented here. Especially after realizing some of the phenomenon I documented here and elsewhere on my site was mentioned by Keel with relation to UFO activity. It also means the “aliens” are not what we think they are. But, John Keel figured that out too, which is why he renamed them Ultraterrestrials. And it means this reality isn’t what we think it is, and doesn’t function the way we’ve been taught. But, he figured that out as well, decades ago.
Our experiences were interesting and important enough to document, but overall there were no answers. There was no point. It happened solely because it could happen, because the windows were ripped open, allowing for Grand Central Station to occur. Because some people have it, and others don’t. And that’s just the way it goes.