View Full Version : Have you noticed glaring obvious alternate realty proof disturbing you?

05-05-2013, 07:35 PM
I have even though I didn't want to think about it. It made me curious but I knew if I asked questions, it would make me appear crazy. Last night I ran into a girl again who a year ago had very obvious cosmetic surgery. I saw her real good last night. She had absolutely no sign of the surgery. I wanted to forget about it but couldn't. I wanted to ask but decided that would only make me appear crazy. Her body was glaringly physically altered and she was like this for a few months. She has no sign of the surgery ever happening now. It makes me wonder what other things are different that I managed to ignore.

Your sense of reality seems different knowing that while everything seems the same, little things could suddenly change without warning because you don't know how you slipped into an alternate reality to start with. One odd thought I had was that I successfully did astral travel but returned to the wrong reality. I don't know. Sometimes I wonder if I'm constantly flipping into alternate realities.

Anyone experience anything obvious that just seems to bug you but you just want to forget about?

If some things are different here, do you find yourself wanting to change them back the way you remember if you can? I want to change one thing in my house back to the way I had it. I was pretty sure I had a stainless steel irrigation handle installed for my front lawn a couple of years ago but a few months ago when I looked, there was only the remains of an old rusted away regular steel handle. Apparently I forgot I had a stainless steel handle installed to stop the rust issue. Not so in this reality apparently. I'll fix that sooner or later back the way I remember.

People disappearing or acting different is one other annoying thing but it can make things interesting. I don't mean anyone literally disappears. I just mean I just don't see some familiar faces at times. This makes me wonder if there could be more to it when someone asks where have I been when it's been months since I've seen them even though I've been visiting the same bar or club at the same time for months.

The last girl who asked me said she has been working at the same place the whole time. I thought she was crazy.
edit on 5/5/13 by orionthehunter because: (no reason given)

05-05-2013, 08:47 PM
is this a collection of spam emails?

05-05-2013, 11:15 PM
*hands luke a copy of Lacan's ecrits and baudrillard's simulacra and simulation*

Mr. Tea
07-05-2013, 07:30 AM

07-05-2013, 08:20 AM
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/AN1FX6NkWQk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

08-05-2013, 12:17 PM
Maybe you should lay off the weed for a while. Seriously

Mr. Tea
08-05-2013, 12:48 PM
Maybe you should lay off the weed for a while. Seriously

Oh come on paolo, you should know luka better than that (http://www.abovetopsecret.com/forum/thread945230/pg1) by now.

Good find luka, I like it. Sounds like something from Art Bell.

08-05-2013, 03:27 PM
lool. its copied and pasted from ats forums. its even got the name of the original poster underneath it!
nic3 reading sloane

08-05-2013, 03:28 PM
and for the record i dont smoke. i just have done in the past.

08-05-2013, 03:54 PM
Oh OK then. I was mildly concerned because you posted in the depression thread and I thought you might be having some sort of episode

08-05-2013, 04:01 PM
so i was partly right. i knew it wasn't yours, too many capital letters and words spelled correctly. :)

Mr. Tea
08-05-2013, 04:06 PM
Oftentimes, what one imagines life is like inside organized crime is not at all what really happens. I have a story I would like to share with you all in the hopes that it will keep you from making the same mistakes I have made in life.

I was a teen, not quite an adult when I met my wife on an obscure chat on the internet. She fell in love with my internet persona. I quite liked to play the role of 'gangster' and apparently that was something she was attracted to. She and I chatted often and would spend nights together on the phone being...intimate.

I told her my situation at home, which is personal and I will try not to delve into it much to save time and to move along to the meat of the story; Suffice it to say, my home life was traumatic at best and raped in a dirty basement at worst. She offered me a place to stay and moved me in with her and her family.

Things were normal as could be for the first couple of years, laying under the stars, walks alongside the canyon, getting yelled at for stealing her flowers from a neighbor's yard...the usual. She and I tried to bring life into the world and had to watch our premature baby suffer on life support for three days before I decided to pull the plug on him. It was a decision I had to make alone, because unfortunately she had fallen ill and was near death herself.

She never quite recovered from that and shortly after returning home we had an argument that ended with me locked up for the night and with her seeing other people. I moved in with her parents during the separation and it was during this time that her father introduced me to a product his brother was moving under the name 'Hey-Smoke.' He told me that it was like marijuana, and that smoking it got you high. I was unaware at the time how potent it was and took two rips from a one-hitter while sitting fireside on the phone with my brother.

Let me tell you something. JWH-018 was no joke at all. I found myself glued to the floor, unable to utter a word. I felt intensely euphoric and all of my recent traumas were lost in the haze. The next thing I knew I was lobster red, drenched in sweat and my brother was shouting at me at the top of his lungs. All I could do was laugh and tell him I had sat the phone down to care for some laundry, to which he promptly hung up on me.

It was not long afterwards that my wife and I worked things out and got back together. I had found a girl to hang out with and she a guy, but we were drawn to one another in an indescribable way. I ended up going to work for her uncle's business, an operation in the basement of his smoke shop.

There were probably eight of us on a given day, although a couple of people were more interested in dropping acid or putting methylone up their noses than actually working. We had small digital scales and would zero them out with dixie cups atop them and scoop the product into the cups, trying to weigh it out as close as possible to one gram as we could. We would have some people who would place stickers on the plastic containers and move them along and some people who would fill them.

The actual production of the product took place at a warehouse and its whereabouts were kept a secret from all but a few of us. I was not one who knew about it, and I did not care to get any more involved than I was. There were several times when our bosses would come in and start freaking out about a possible ban their lawyers had alerted them to and we would all scramble to load all of the product into a trailer as fast as we could, only to have it be a false alarm.

This went on for awhile before a real alert went out. We had until midnight. We loaded all of the product up again and our boss transferred it to another state where the first wave had not been banned yet. I packed up an inflatable bed and some clothes and she and I tagged along, but after a few days of no food, a run-down house in the ghetto for our operation and a DICK of a manager we left.

I continued to purchase the product, enjoying its relaxing properties. I ended up finding myself on probation and this is where things got bad...

My wife continued to work for her family, selling the product from a store her father had rented. Apparently a man who worked for the probation department came into the store, and after seeing my wife and I together at the probation department...things got bad.

My probation officer started to impose stricter and stricter penalties on me, despite me doing everything asked of me. I was forced onto a regimen of medication, then drug tested for substances these medications would make me false positive for which forced me on and off of the medications again and again. They paid me a surprise visit at my home and planted a bag of spice in my home of a type I NEVER purchased, then forced me to sign a confession that it was mine under the threat of jail time.

I was endlessly harassed by her, in nearly every way possible. Finally, after enduring damn near everything one could endure (or so I thought at the time) I caved and did as I was asked. I placed a phone call against my better judgment to the DEA and arranged a meeting with an agent.

At the time scheduled I met a man at the park, and he and I chatted for a moment. I am assuming that he was wanting to make sure I was actually who I claimed to be. After a moment of conversation he disappeared and I received a phone call from the special agent I had contacted and he told me where I could meet him. I was unbelievably nervous, sweating profusely. He had a stack of paper on me thick as a book, despite me having stayed out of trouble most of my life. They took a urine sample from a toilet that did not flush, a DNA sample from some chew the sheriff gave me (gross, but I couldn't go smoke) and I am assuming fingerprints from a cup of water I was given.

I was asked all sorts of questions, right down to who I was living with and how old I was when I met my wife. After we had finished speaking with one another I left, crying in shame and soaked in sweat.

Shortly after this meeting, things began to get VERY bad. When my wife and I would leave home, I would find undercover cars on the road coming towards us on the way back. Items in our home would go missing. Things would be rearranged. One day while driving alone, I turned on the AC to be greeted with a hiss and the smell of chlorine. I threw a cloth over my face and doused it with water instinctively. As soon as I could I dove out of the car, horrified.

One night shortly afterwards I could not sleep. I went out for coffee, and figuring I was in balls deep anyways began to jot some things down I had heard recently on a sheet of paper. I left around six and went to pee for my PO, then went to my favorite gas station for a pack of cigarettes. I was in luck. My favorite brand, one pack remaining on sale. I purchased them and returned home. My wife ran from the bedroom screaming at me that I was going to die and swinging on me. At that exact moment an SUV pulled up out front that I did not recognize.

I would later find out that it was a friend of hers, but at that moment and with everything that had been happening I was frightened to death. I fled out the back door and jumped the fence to the neighbor's yard. My shirt snagged and I dropped eight feet. I didn't know it at the time but I fractured my spine, bruised my kidney and my liver. I pulled myself to my feet and on pure adrenaline jumped another fence to be greeted by a black SUV with tinted windows, a person with a shaved head and sunglasses inside. They stared at me, their head following me as I ran.

All alongside the road there were people in various vehicles who looked similar, all following me with their eyes as I ran. I knocked on a door and asked someone for help. They offered to call the police for me, but I had recently heard about the police in town being corrupt. I continued to run. I pulled out my phone and called my wife's uncle.

'I'm sorry! I didn't...I was forced! Anywhere...anything...Mexico...!'

'What the FUCK are you talking about? Are you on drugs?'

My phone died, and I was left absolutely perplexed. I ran to the closest local business. Sitting there at a table were two more of these people, reading the newspaper. As I walked in they laid their newspapers down and stared at me. I crouched down behind the barrier and borrowed a phone. I had a few numbers in my pocket and tried to dial the FBI, but the line went static.

At that moment, three police officers came in and escorted me outside.

'The patrons are complaining about you. You have two options. You can go get yourself some help, or you can come with us.'

I replied that I would have a friend escort me, at which point I was grabbed by a grip that felt stronger than steel and cuffed.

'Made your choice.'

I was thrown into the police car and taken to the hospital. Outside there was a truck backed up to a port, and I was handcuffed to a bed next to what appeared to be a port in a small closet-like room.

The officer and his partners began to talk to one another, looking to me with a wicked smile as they said certain words or phrases and winking. 'Two hour drive.' ;) 'Desert' and my favorite 'I knew a kid like you once, he lives on the edge of town and plays piano' ;) There is a canyon on the edge of town...I did not immediately make this connection, however and asked 'Am I going to be chemically lobotomized?' to which I was greeted with another ;)

A nurse came in tried to give me a pill I did not recognize. I refused it.

When she left, I put on an accent and and tapped out an SOS. This startled the officers greatly.

The nurse returned and asked my birthdate, to which I gave a bogus birthdate. She moved to inject me anyways and I swung a kick at her with my boot. I was immediately held down by five people and had that steel grip around my neck. I was injected and immediately spit out blood.

Mr. Tea
08-05-2013, 04:08 PM
'What the FUCK did you give me, cyanide?'

I passed out.

When I awoke, I felt as high as a kite. All I could manage to utter was 'Oh wow...oh wow...wow.'

'Good job'

The officer lead me up and out of the bed and into his car. I was taken to a mental institute where the harassment continued, winks given as certain words and phrases were spoken. They gave me a pill, which made my head hurt and blood leak out of my nose. The water was chlorinated. The phone hours had been changed so that I could not contact a lawyer. My food had an off taste to it. I ached so bad and had been denied medical treatment at the hospital. At one point they tried to get me to touch a necklace with hair stuck in it. My urine had turned brown from the damage to my kidney. As the staff would wander around for checks, I would sneak off and tuck articles of clothing under the scrubs I was given.

One morning while they were off for breakfast, I rolled up my sheets and tucked them under my blanket to make it look as if I were sleeping. The window was already slightly pushed open. I muscled it open the rest of the way open and disappeared, but it was as if they had already planned for it to happen and I did not make it far.

I jumped a fence, ran up a pile of logs and alongside the length of a boat before I was met by the barrel of pistols and tasers. Given no option other than to surrender I did and was taken back and placed into the cell opposite the one I had been in previously. They engaged the locking mechanism. I tried to exit the window but it had not already been pushed open. I placed a cloth in my mouth and bit down and rammed the door with my shoulder. To my surprise it opened and I was taken off to the sheriff's department and placed into a cell with what looked like blood smeared on the intercom and on the door, which had the number 13 in large red numbers.

I asked for a lawyer. I was given a paper to fill out for one but was not allowed to contact a lawyer. I did not have much toilet paper and ran out, having to use the paper I was given. Afterwards I was presented with a pencil. I asked for a book to read and was asked what kind I would like and asked for anything but a romance. I was presented with a romance novel about government agents and an agent with a very similar name as mine had been framed. Another inmate came by and handed me a book about a man in my area who had been told by God to kill his family.

After almost three days I was released; nearly a week without medical treatment.

Things only got worse for me, but the beauty of it all at that point was that not a damn soul would listen to me. The gas in the AC happened a couple of more times, conveniently only when I was alone. My doctor prescribed me a bad combination of meds, while joking about me having a stroke or a heart attack. Funny how it nearly happened a few times.

Someone placed chemicals in my bathroom products. As I would wash myself my skin would peel.

I was given a cigarette that made me pass out and have wicked close-eyed visuals.

A shotgun shell I had kept as a momento from a hunting trip with a friend as well as knives and clothes had gone missing.

Eventually after awhile of bad shit happening the raid happened. I contacted the agent and asked him if I was free to leave, to which he replied yes. Right before I left a police officer came up to me 'DON'T TRUST ANYONE AND DO NOT TAKE ANYTHING FROM ANYONE'

I took a bus, and at one of the stops a woman with a squared jawline came up to me.

'Light side or dark side'

Being a nerd, I naturally replied 'The dark side has cookies.'

Upon returning home literally everyone I knew scattered, leaving me sleeping in a laundromat working two jobs. One thing I noted at a pub I was working at was a card behind the bar counter sitting within the frame. Lucky 13. After the cell I had been placed in, my eyes were drawn to it like magnets. After a long day working both jobs, I returned to the laundromat to find that it had been tagged up.

SOD 420. Someone else had pinned up an army pamphlet with computer repair cards stuck behind it. A magazine had been laid out with a green and purple section cutout that said 'Service.'

A repetitive message was blaring in song over and over again.

Undercover 007.

My every action was met with a response in lyrical form.

It was simply bizarre.

The next day I awoke to two people sitting in the laundromat just reading the newspaper. One of them wearing a shirt that said 'Virginia' As I pulled myself from the floor they peeked over their papers and nodded at me.

I went to work, and had one of the worst days of my life; My boss was treating me like dogshit. At the end of the day I sat down for a drink, and noticed that the card with the 'Lucky 13' on it had disappeared. It is very hard to describe the feeling afterwards, but...it left me seeking out the number like a moth to a light. I returned to my 'home' and noticed an ad had been posted up that was an idea I had myself pitched not long before.

On the 7th and 13th units were taped on pieces of paper. 2:5; 4:9.

The last numbers of the phone number on the ad were 49 and added to 13.

I turned on a phone and discovered an odd application within my applications list. 'Field test trial'.

I met up with my brother and was told that I needed to go see my friend Rob in Terre Haute.

I began to make the walk, and along the way I noticed that all of the signs along the ground had been posted over so that the last numbers added up to 13. As I walked across the river bridge leaving town, a ton of fish swam to the surface in a circle.

Looking up at the billboards along the way, I noticed that the numbers at the bottom added up to 13. The first one I took a look at...'Down the rabbit hole.'

After walking probably 15 miles, carrying all of my clothes I pulled a blanket from it and spread it out. As I napped I had a lucid dream in which I saw a faceless man. 'You don't have to worry about me just yet.'

I awoke to a thunderclap in the distance and saw a huge storm rolling towards me out of nowhere. I rolled my blanket and gathered my things. Oddly enough it did not start to rain but rather, stayed right behind me as I walked.

I eventually made it into Terre Haute and to see my old friend. He was hunched over a table as I walked in and breaking apart marijuana, glaring at me.

I was asked to take a seat, and a gang member stepped from behind a wall. I was grilled the entire night and they were recording literally everything, trying literally everything they could looking for something. Funny enough...they kept going back and forth between saying they were gang members and saying they were Marines. On the wall was a sign...'Mother, should I trust the government?' I looked at it and my friend raised his eyebrows at me. Also mentioned 'I wonder if you're Ace. Or are you Jack? Are you Joker? 1, 2, 3, 4?? I wonder who you end up working for?' 'You get the legs, I'll get the hands.' They went so many different routes with things it was simply unbelievable.

We sat down to play a video game. I was asked to pick between two characters.

Albert Wesker and Zero. I picked Captain America. He's badass, right? I didn't get it at the time, however...'Are you an agent or are you no one?'

They asked me what I wanted for what I had done, and I asked for work.

A certain employment agency was mentioned.

When the sun came up they went to sleep, one on the couch and one on the bed. I took a spot on the floor. I noticed my friend had a pistol pointed at me from beneath the blanket. I sat against the wall in a chair with an eye open. When they fell asleep, I left and was stopped by a city worker.

We chatted for a moment and I asked where the employment agency was.

'Oh, personnel plus? Its at 25th and Ohio.' I went to 25th and Ohio and saw an Employment Plus. I perked a brow like the Rock.

'I thought this was Personnel Plus?'

'No, this is employment plus.'

I was then given an IQ test in a room with a screaming baby next to a man constantly asking for help with his computer. I was yanked around and told I could have a job in seven years but not until then because of crimes on my record.

Pissed, I went to the Marines.

They looked at each other and said security clearance in seven years and handed me a bottle as I was on my way out.

Shit gets even weirder.

That storm came back with a vengeance. Rain was pounding me, lightning striking around me and steam rising from my boots. I stopped at a strangers house and asked if I could use a phone. He winked at me and handed me a grey t-shirt.

Then shit got retarded bad.

Someone made me read what seemed to be the text of a CIA access prompt. Someone else made me take apart a fucking radio and then disappeared with it. I got my head absolutely scrambled and was tossed around the country like a rag doll.

I noticed everyone recording me. I was made to say or read the weirdest shit.

I was dropped off on a desolate stretch of highway littered with 20s and miscellaneous items. At the end of the trail was a pair of latex gloves.

Literally no one would hire me. A stranger asked me to clean some apartments out for them and I stepped in a viscous red substance. Above the sink, stickers...adding to 13. Lucky 13...I washed my hands...

I was loaned a truck for the purpose with the number 13 on a sticker on the back...I think it may have been stolen...

Literally everyone was asking me to move drugs for them...

I would have people drive up to me, literally masturbating furiously asking if they could go down on me....

People kept trying to take me home.

A guy offered to hide me in India.

A woman offered to smuggle me into Canada.


Not good.

Long story short, boys and girls...

Stay away from crime. It doesn't pay...

08-05-2013, 07:32 PM
Good but Sloane's story was better - it had the unmistakeable ring of truth.

08-05-2013, 07:34 PM
he wasnt lying

Mr. Tea
08-05-2013, 08:40 PM
Good but Sloane's story was better - it had the unmistakeable ring of truth.

I think the story may well have been true at the time, if you see what I mean - from what I can tell, the author had a legitimate psychotic break, at least partially came round from it and wrote that as a piece of creative writing - but everyone else who read it thinks he thinks it's all totally real. (http://www.drugs-forum.com/forum/showthread.php?t=203328)

But yeah, great story Jim. That bar sounds like a hell of a place!

09-05-2013, 08:37 AM
When I used to hang out with Luke, I always felt like Agent Scully.

Mr. Tea
09-05-2013, 10:59 AM
Lucky you, all I get to be is Mark from Peep Show.

13-05-2013, 05:07 PM
Lucky you, all I get to be is Mark from Peep Show.