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The Alarming Nature Of The Unknown

Author: Paul Schroeder    (all articles by this author)
Published on: April 13, 2001

Part of the alarming nature of the unknown is its mysterious link to the known; I awake each night to a lewd exhibition of the merging. I open my eyes and turn to see the digital alarm clock, sitting on the lamp table next to my bed and see 12:12, and 1:11 AM, 2:22 AM, and 3:33 AM and 4:44 AM. This distresses me so badly, upon awakening, that I cannot think; just a wave of panic that SOMETHING is awaking me, as the calculated odds of awakening each night precisely at those specific times is astronomically impossible. The message intended seems to throw me off balance and keep me wrapped in fearful confusion and lets me know that I am being toyed with but yields no greater insight than to let me know that when I sleep I wander amongst monsters and beasties.

Sometimes after abductions, the interdimentional door, left open, invites the gangster fringe element of the spirit world; sometimes demons are thrown into the equation as spitework for attempts at thwarting abductions. But the unseen sinister world is as real as the nose on your face;

The building, called Harold Hall, since renamed, perhaps stands four stories and houses some eighty families. The basement area is the only place I've encountered, face to face, the entity that followed me home and whom stands gauntly by my bed at night and delivers mind blowing dreams. It stands at the intersection of 92 st. and Fort Hamilton parkway, in Brooklyn, not far from Shore Road, on the Narrows, and abuts the old army base still there, Fort Hamilton Army Base. I know nothing of the history of this building except that when I left, sure that anyone who entered the basement would meet it, it seemed to have moved with me. I am straddling the fence of the twilight zone surrounded by harassing, omnipresent, sinister, psychic, tenacious entities, whose presence fills me with wonder and indignation. Bless you for your patience; the out of body attacks differ from my dreams in their vivid 3D total sensory envelopment and the inherent viciousness in provoking angst, realistic in every way as compared to consciousness. The perspective is waking to find I am asleep, wrapped in delusional thoughts and scenes, dreams so aligned with negative thoughts that the scenarios reveal that they are imposed, by virtue of their worst scenario plots and their vividness. They, whomever these discorporate negative thought entities are, are masters of delusions and I have recognized the raw power of the vividness as more than my murky dream scenarios could ever muster and am convinced we are dead wrong about the nature of dreaming itself. At night, your astral body travels to realms from angelic to demonic, a spirit world of myriad vibrational levels and the pictures you see on the backs of your eyelids, while you REM, are not dreams but visits, souvenirs of a greater reality. Like a goldfish who never suspects a greater world beyond the pond's surface, the limited awareness of humankind floats beneath the surface of a greater reality; groping, mouth agape in total ignorance. Now, that's waxing my verbal virtuosity, dramatically.

Sadly, I've only met sharks, not the porpoises, in the ocean currents of unconsciousness, between 2 and 6 AM and grounding is essential, but, how? As we struggle into consciousness, each morning, a self-erasing mechanism destroys memories of dreams; only vague and vivid snippets remain as clues. But how many people can recall dreams that were not dreams at all? I have recall for hours and days, afterwards of these impositions, unlike the general amnesia accompanying most of my dreams, all of my life. I assure you that I have shockedly unlearned all Jungian and Freudian concepts of dreams; it's only our own language's impotence, calling these dreams; the eskimos have myriad words for snow; we have only one for dreams that often are not dreams which we, ourselves, generate. My experiences, in the extreme, illustrate this indigestible possibility, to me. Paul, God bless you for the chance to ventilate and exchange ideas in this horrid realm; horrid, because that attacks continue and vary in intensity to the point where I have tacitly accepted all I've told you at the risk of denying everything about the mind and dreams I've ever learned.

Description of haunting at night a large black shapeless mass turns out the lights while you are in the labyrinth of mazes hallways en route to storage rooms, in the back, and stands in your way laughing, evilly, there is a terror and a strong wave of hatred felt. Trying to retrace your way in the darkness, back towards the elevator, hugging the walls, brings air blown onto the back of your neck, your name whispered in your ear and your clothing clutched and plucked at by unseen hands. The presence is large and blacker than the darkness surrounding it; you feel a sense of being watched and sense waves of intense hatred which is undeniable. Flashlights fail and dim and blink out when one tries to outsmart its turning the lights out. The six floor apartment building abuts the Fort Hamilton army base, a quarter mile away and is at the virtual foot of the Brooklyn side of the Verrazzano bridge. I have been the supt of that building between 1990 and 1999 and have encountered that entity through my denial to acceptance to raw fear of it. It has intruded into my dreams; followed me into the elevator and into my bedroom to evoke horrid worst scenario nightmares which betray that it knows our minds better that we do; I avoided the basement, neglected my duties there and was subsequently fired by the management office. This building stands at the intersection of 92 street and Fort Hamilton pkwy, in Brooklyn, New York. The psychic attacks continue, nonetheless; I am drowsing over the bathroom sink; half asleep and yawning, supporting myself with my arms an both sides of the sink, tired, still half asleep naked, when something brushes my face and loins, both just below the sink and just above my face, above the sink. I open my bleary eyes and see an enormous conglomeration of festooned fishhooks surrounding me, hanging from the ceiling across the sink; a filigree chandelier of razor sharp connected fishhooks that I've stumbled onto, stark naked, now, with pinching sharp connections at my groin and lip and face that apprise me, quickly panicking now, that I've been deeply hooked in myriad places; intomy genitals, pulling through my lip and my cheek and that to move backwards, in shock or panic flight is to deeply gaff myself further, inextricably and beyond help. I am attached painfully and as I lift my right arm to gently work out the fishhook, razor thin, dozens of others fasten against and bite into my flesh scaring me further into desperation and deepening my angst as I awaken, quickly now, to a gathering sense of panic and helplessness and the hook in my cheek tears deeply into my mouth and the fishhooks, unseen, beneath the sink begin to bite deeper and more painfully into me, I am a marionette impaled from face to scrotum and have wandered unknowing into this macrame of razorblade-like fishhooks some madman must have concocted over my sink in my bathroom. The slightest movement brings sharp painful reminders that I an stuck fast and in a nightmarish predicament I cannot solve as I am screaming, muted for help from my wife asleep in the other room. Opening my mouth to holler I feel the deeper bite of the hook into the deep muscles of my face and I can only growl and moan loudly, aware I won't likely be able to reach her ears with my low moaning and am becoming more entrapped with every movement. Like a monstrous wind chime of dangling fishhooks, I am trapped and my fear level climbs to near hysteria as I awaken, suddenly, in bed. Again I am aware of the imposed horror for ethereal feasting but dazzled at the raw power of the attack; the totality of sensory construction and the viciousness inherent in the scenario. I am beset with demons; negative thought entities who are malevolent and who know our minds much better than we do in projecting telepathic sustained attack. How can you fight something you can't see? The odds of winning in such campaign is probably a lot lower than winning in a lottery or say, a high-stakes bingo game. This was the first of several creative virtual reality psychic attacks delivered, on this night and represent a continued program of spiritual and out of body attacks at the hands of unseen entities who are clearly brilliantly malevolent and tenacious.


Some time ago a friend of my wife's and a group of friends made a trip to historical sites in the Middle East. During the tour she had a chance to visit a cave on one of the hills around the holy city of Mecca. Inside, she was attracted by - she swears it was nothing but - a bright light perched on the cave's wall, and took a picture of it. When she returned home the rolls of film she used during the trip were developed. And she was surprised to see a picture (attached) of a creature she never saw before in her life. She took the picture and showed it to her spiritual teacher. The ustadzah explained that it was satan in one of its forms, as was described by her teacher decades ago while she was still in school. Subhanallah! She made copies of the picture, my wife took one, and I scanned it for you to see.

Click Here...

The waves of sheer hatred, intense telepathic bursts of raw hatred felt by me in the unseen presence of some of the harassing entities might well echo the demeanor of this clearly interdimentional creature; note the venation of the rock which bisects its waist, like a belt; it is transparent. Again, I am convinced that since a hateful bottom spectrum of the unseen universe exists - I, too, have been grabbed and shaken by demons, large, black and strong as a bull - that a goodness, top-spectrum of the unseen spirit world MUST exist; I have been snuck into faith by the rear door. The last sentence of the letter accompanying this pix was; MAY ALLAH PROTECT US ALL FROM DEVILS. The photo is authentic and, perhaps, the first I've ever seen of ectoplasmic interdimentional evil; note the ears and head area edges, unformed; and the hooves and details of physiognomy. It has been suggested by UK experts that this entity ALLOWED itself to be photographed as the rarity of such photos of such clarity belies the elusiveness of these psychic mindreading sinister entities, I call demons. They are horribly real and as psychic vampires are unparalleled.

The entity that tortured me was tenacious in following me anywhere I traveled and made a point of letting me know as soon as I was sure I'd left it behind; doors would lock when I was showering, although I was careful to leave all doors open; objects would move just within immediate sight and wild evil dreams at nighttime let me know it was well with me despite my having traveled far. By all means, use my comments and nightmare out of body attack scenario as a virtual experience, as well.

Raw prayer, to my spirit helpers, to remove this dark entity, has finally produced lasting results, to date; no horrid demonic nightmares or grey alien astral abductions; a virtual miracle of faith and request. Seeing an evil, powerful, attacking - with nightmares - demon removed by goodness is awe inspiring and transforming and enlightening. Tell God to send his Spirit Helpers to your side, and they will be there before you know it. Then, it will be time for them to help.

Talk to your Spirit Helpers. Call them your Spirit Helpers. Pay attention to the feeling of comfort all within you when you do come in contact. You can tell they are with you when you feel an urge to calm yourself. Then doubt will leave you and you will be able to communicate with them.

Once you have achieved this feeling, you are ready to talk to them and get their help. Talk to them as you would a respected friend or family member. Telepathy or audible language is OK. They will speak to you though telepathy as an understanding or a conversation in which you would swear you are talking and carrying on a conversation with yourself. You will find you are then talking and answering your own questions. It can be quite fast. And you might feel completely foolish. Listen to your first answers, and try not to second guess them. They will be right the first time. There is NEVER any fear attached to talking to your Spirit Helpers. The minute you feel fear, it is no longer them.. Try to reestablish you feeling of comfort to continue listening to your Spirit Helpers. You will most likely get much resistance to your attempts, for such contact with your Spirit Helpers marks a permanent end to the MIS siege. Malevolent Inhuman Spirit; a demon.

Tell your Spirit Helpers what it is you need of them, and then wait. Tell them how desperate you are and tell them to hurry. They will do what they can against the MIS, which is usually an expulsion. I have had a dark entity virtually block my requests and substitute itself for my spirit helpers for years frustrating and confusing me in that my prayers were answered so quickly by it that it set up problems for me and solved them for me without my having a clue. The nightmares and weird tampering of out of body experiences continued unabated, nightly, until I simply asked fervently and passionately for my spirit helpers and told them to act as bouncer at the astral door and to block such evil entities entry; it's the little voice in your head that tells you, when you're sitting at the table, to check the teapot as it must be boiling; it's always been there. Maintaining that conversation, internally and feeling confidence in the subtle exchange is the tandem combo for success against demons and astral alien abductions. We truly come from the spirit realm and return so we can avail ourselves of its power, its internal talking to heaven. Finally, I can explain all these oddities and life's synchronicities and coincidences and abductions, sightings of ghosts and demon induced dreams; we are not people having spiritual experiences; we are spirits having a human experience. I thank God and my spirit helpers for these insights and for help no breathing human could have affected; a good nights sleep after years of harassment, a sense of peace and salvation and protection from the harassment of demons by positive faith and confidence and that god has revealed himself to me, fractionally. I no longer feel goofy depending on spirit helpers and conversing with them; they have produced a miracle, and a miracle is anything that increases your belief in god. Before all of this, I was a confirmed atheist and placed god neatly on the same shelf with the tooth fairy and Santa Claus. I have learned contrary lessons that have illuminated and educated me; I will pass this jewel of help to all who merely suspect; the spirit world is real and goodness as well as evil is as real as the nose on your face, although unseen. Seeing is believing is as much an untruth as, you only live once.

Other insights from raw experiences show me that most people walking around the street have seven visible color halos from seven spinal chakra energy centers; psychics have double; fourteen and hyperspace travelers, alien abductees and people who see ghosts and have alien abductions have three times or twenty-one color globes. Danger exists in interdimentional bleedthroughs when one has more than seven. Problems like mine happen from alien tampering of the spine by careful repeated tappings which activate everything, all at once and one flirts with the beast of madness by experiencing high strangeness in common, everyday events. One sees auras and archetypal symbols surrounding people and can discern disease by looking at color values; worse, three times that number of chakras can allow one to read blueprints of a life and go inside and CHANGE those blueprints, a clear violation of inherent spiritual rights.

Submitted by Paul Schroeder

Originally published in Project X Newsletter #55

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