Tag Archive: conspiracies


Well, I seemed to have dropped a thread that I had meant to pick up. That was about my August 1993 trip out to Montauk and what had happened on it.  See  Camp Hero Cross Point.

Well, earlier I said that I had asked my higher self if it was in the best interest to fo out to Montauk for August 12th. I asked for a single white feather as the sign. A couple of days later, on a weekend, I was at a friend’s house. I walked to the front door and looked down. On the floor was a single large white feather. Okay, I gathered that this might be a “yes”. So, the next week I looked up accommodations. Now, this was only two weeks before August 12th and I had read that usually everything is booked up at that time. But, I did find a potential lodging in the form of a bed and breakfast. I contacted the proprietor (the one who had the experience in Host Story. She happened to have a vacancy from August 11th to August 13th since they fell on weekdays mostly. And the room was reasonably priced for the area.
I booked it right there.

I started out early on the 11th with not just a little trepidation since this was going back to the scene of the crime and a calculated risk as well. I had a rather uneventful trip in a Ford Escort with an over heating problem. I had to vent the excess heat by turning the car’s heater on. But, despite that I made it to my destination.

I was feeling an odd kind of fear plus exhilaration. Instead of running away from the possible danger, I was running towards it.

When I passed the power towers there, it felt as if I had broken through an invisible barrier. I saw that Sage radar tower which gave me an odd feeling of foreboding.

I found the B&B with no problem even though it was tucked away in one of the streets just past the center of town.

I had a room there where the walls were half glass. This was not the most secure accommodation that I could have wished for. I was all about locking things (my car,the room) up even though my host told me that no one locked up there. Here’s where I want to say La Di Da…

That night, after dinner, I was driving back towards the
place that I was staying. On the way there, I saw a young blonde boy hitching to get a ride towards the point. I wondered about him on such a night. But, I didn’t stop. I just kept driving.

I drove onto the wrong street. It was dark and it was easy to mistake one street for another. I saw a dog run in front of my car and, unable to avoid it, I hit it with the car. I stopped to check on the dog to see if it was ok. There were people there that were wondering why I stopped and how unusual it was for me to do so. I was told by one of them that it was a neighbor’s, who wasn’t around that night, dog. The person said that he was expecting it to happen some time, which it did. I checked on the dog and it was only a bit bruised and relatively unharmed. It even licked me. I was so relieved.  No one else seemed too concerned.  I call them the Stepford people.

That night, I even got to lie on the beach with a chair that was provided by my host ans watch the meteor shower through the holes between the clouds. It was quite dramatic.

More to come…

Entrance sign for Brookhaven National Labs

I promised to post about the incident with the last Montauk boy that I wrote about. So, here it is. I already had gone over this in one of my interviews, but the audio was abominable.

In the Montauk  Project history/legend, Brookhaven National Labs was mentioned as being the first place that experiments were conducted for it.  It was alleged to have been phased out when Camp Hero came online.  I have reason to believe that  this is only partially true.

Here is my memory of the first incident:

I was lying in bed wondering about my involvement with the Montauk Project. A few minutes into my reverie, I experienced what could be termed an abreaction. I was in a lab setting in BNL (Brookhaven National Labs). It was around June/July 1983. There were three lab coated people in front of me. Two were male and one was female. I felt as if I was and wasn’t myself (co-conscious with and alter?). I was explaining the horrific depths to which the project had sunk to. I said something like “Too many children have died in it. It has to be stopped.” I asked if they would help me do that. They eventually agreed to do this. Then, I told them that I had to go back to Montauk since they would soon wonder where I was. A hole opened up in the wall. In this hole was a strange looking tunnel. It looked like it was composed of a violet/blue/grey smokey substance. It definitely didn’t look too substantial. On the other end of the tunnel was a basement. This was the Montauk underground, or the underground of the underground. I stepped into it and was almost instantaneously on the other end.

Now, there was one odd possibly suspect problem with this “memory”. There was a subtitle in it just like a subtitle in a movie. It said something to the effect of “Brookhaven Labs June 1983”. So, this could have been either a relived memory or a memory implant. I have experienced the co-conscious state a few times before. So, that was very much the same as those experiences. It is also possible that there was a small contingent from BNL that was still involved with the project. If this memory was real, then I have my suspicions about how this might have come about. But, without more data, this would only be mere logical speculation.

Now, I know I didn’t explain where the Montauk boy comes in, but bear with me and it will all become clear in a very short time.

Here is the second related incident:

One afternoon, back in the 90’s, I was lying on my front on a table at my chiropractor’s office. I had just received a network* chiropractic treatment and was integrating it. I once again experienced another abreaction. I was in the Montauk underground. In front of me were four people. Three of them were the people who I had recruited in BNL. The other had long blonde hair and was facing away from me and towards them. Since I could not move, I was forced to watch each of them, one at a time, psychically tortured to death. I could almost feel their intense pain and fear as the person in front of them crushed internal organs including the brain. Each bled from their face and screamed and died. When they all were dead, the person that had just killed them turned and faced me. This person was that very same Montauk boy. He had the same expression that he had when he was sick with that cold. Upon seeing this, I thought that I was next. This is where the memory ends.

Obviously, I was incorrect in my assessment of the situation since I am alive to write this today. Whether these are true memories or not, I still feel the shock of them, especially the latter one. And, even if these prove false, it most likely means that I have been royally,  excuse the phrase,  fucked with.

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