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Brian's Story

Why do I believe Zetatalk? Simply because there is so much of me and my life entwined within its pages that it can't be coincidental. When I read about the coming cataclysms it electrified me. But at the same time it held no surprise for me, which in itself was startling. I didn't fear the mention of the coming event. In fact I found myself welcoming the idea as circumstances had long before shut out any thoughts of my own personal welfare. My sense of purpose and meaning for life had long gone. My reasons for being on the Net at all a miracle in itself. Yet instead of finally giving up and accepting my inevitable fate I suddenly discovered a new strength, a reason at last for my existence and I knew in an instant that my intention wasn't to give in, but to make a stand and fight. I continued to read, my excitement growing and unable to tear myself away. Skipping pages because I couldn't read fast enough and settling on categories that sounded interesting. Discovering the STO/STS categories and I instantly knowing why my life had turned out the way it had.

For a long time I have had no friends. Well not what I would call real friends. I've felt isolated and alone. An alien on an alien world, yet I've always been able to get on with people. Granted I'm shy, but I've always combat that by trying to be outgoing. If I'm totally honest people seem drawn to me, not all for the right reasons. Looking back now I should have been one of those with the word MUG stamped firmly on my forehead. So called friends always taking advantage of my good nature. Can I borrow this - will you help me with that, always reluctant to say no. But none of them ever turning up just to see me and certainly no support when I needed them. (Not that that was the reason why I helped them in the first place. I just liked helping people.) To make matters worse I would find them turning against me when I couldn't, for one reason or another comply with their demands. In some cases viciously. Then there were those who hardly knew me, yet seemed to know an awful lot about what was going on in my life. Making up those details they didn't and spreading the rest around as gossip, directing some kind of personal persecution towards me and my family that I could never understand. (After all I'd never done anything against them to deserve it.)

Things got so bad we ended up moving out of the area, although it didn't end there. The whole thing just repeated itself where ever we went and as time passed and I tried to out run the misery it brought, my trust and resentment of my fellow humans grew. Nowhere was safe and none of us escaped its brutality. We continued to move, my first marriage failing. I remarried, increasing our family now to six, but our tormentors still surround us even to this day. Our treatment worse than ever, almost driven at one stage to the brink of destruction, which was just prior to discovering Zetatalk. We accept it now and guard ourselves from those we believe can be influenced by the STS. Luckily Familiar Friends have begun to make themselves know to us and we hope more will follow, but our isolation makes that difficult.

The next discovery in Zetatalk wasn't so much a shock as an answer to the many unusual occurrences that have taken place in our lives. Since messing around with out of body experience in my teens I've been plagued with dejavu. It manifests in many ways, but mainly someone will say something, or I'll be doing something or I'll simply see something and its triggered. It's like a cold shiver down my spine and an instant recollection of a dream that I can remember in great detail, but only for seconds and I'm saying "I've done this or been here before". Then it's gone and I'm asking "why did I say that?" Other times its much more. Like the time I told my parents about a TV series I'd watched called Shogun starring Richard Chamberlain. It was about the first American sailors who visited Japan. I went into great detail before they told me that it had not been on TV yet and had just recently been advertised for later that year. Needless to say I had seen it and didn't bother watching it all as I already knew the end. These events bothered me and as time passed I deliberately tried to change my life. To try and break the premonitions. It was a waste of time as I still have them to this day.

Being immensely disillusioned and different from the majority it led me to search through other teachings and religions. (I was brought up Church of England, but believed it about as much as one of Grimes fairy tales.) This brought me into the UFO cultures, and although I found myself convinced with many of the accounts it left me frustrated with more questions than answers. I then turned towards the ancient civilizations Egypt, the Myans which led me to witchcraft and shamanism. The latter fascinated me as it dealt with meditation in order to discover who you really are. My frustration came when I tried journeying into the lower world. (With meditation you allow your mind to take you through an underground passage of some sort, a cave, a well, etc. in order to enter the lowerworld where you can find your spirit guide. But this is done in a waking state, not sleep.) My attempts failed dismally as I shot from the caverns into the clouds at break neck speed every time.

I'd almost reached the point of giving up when I decided instead to let whatever it was preventing me from descending to take me where ever it wanted. To my surprise I found myself whisked high above the ground and through the tree tops of a dense wood, towards the mountains. Within them I discovered a beautiful green valley where a group of people waited in a circle to greet me. As I descended the nearest moved towards me and as he did so the others then gathered making me feel welcome, but these were not humans. Their skin was pale, their heads much larger than our own, with large unprotected eyes. They wore multicolored robes and I could see that their limbs were thin and fragile. No words were spoken yet I could hear them as they directed me to an entrance in the rocks. Within lay a large metal portal that I was instructed to watch and as I did so images flashed before me. Images of destruction and decay. At the time I told them I didn't understand but they wouldn't answer and just insisted I watch the portal, which I did not knowing their meaning, but I do now. Despite my attempts I only managed to journey twice more. One which took me into a magnificent crystal chamber with golden frosted walls that promised to open into another larger chamber. Unfortunately I was disturbed from this one. So I never got to see beyond. The second took me to some kind of military installation where I roamed the corridors and examined strange helmeted suits and high tech equipment, before being confronted by a large eyed gray that stopped the journey dead in its track. I've never been able to journey since. Something won't let me.

Another strange coincidence was that as a child I was plagued with nightmares of small hooded figures that would appear in the night and a small, peculiar owl with large darkened eyes that would sit on the inside, window ledge of my parents bedroom. I never told anyone of my dreams and had long before locked them away in my mind until my eldest son began telling me of hooded figures that had visited his bedside in the night. At first I put the visits down to nightmares, just as I had done, not wanting to alarm him so keeping my secret and as these visits seemed infrequent, hoped they would pass as they had done with me. But they didn't. My son became a young man and the hooded figures changed. One appeared as a small owl perched on the end of his upper bunk bed. Another as a slender, grayish entity that seemed to float above the floor and a darker giant that watched him through the kitchen window one dark night. And during these times of visitation no one in the house could be waken, despite his many attempts. This recalled memories of my childhood and the times I'd tried to wake my parents, despite my cries for help. Even shaking them hadn't worked. Next the clocks in the house began losing exactly one hour, every night - all except my own wristwatch which I never remove. Glasses in a display cabinet would hum gently for no reason and doors that had firmly been secured before bedtime would be found ajar the following morning. At first I suspected the children were playing tricks so I devised simple traps that would reveal the culprit. Yet none were ever triggered.

On one occasion myself and my eldest son sat an all night vigil to try and discover what was happening and we heard many noises that had no explanation. One drew us downstairs to the living room and on opening the door an almighty draught escaped the room. During the same occasion our bedside clock gained five minutes every twenty, (even though we've never had any problem with it before or since) and a pair of mysterious pinpoint red dots appeared among the bushes in the back garden that we have never accounted for nor seen since. Shortly after we followed several unusual, barely visible outlines around the hallway and noted a definite temperature drop in their vicinity as we traced their path. But unfortunately no bright lights, no alien spacecraft and no recollections of alien abductions.

Another strange coincidence was that around this time the area was also frequented by several dark helicopters that would fly low over the neighborhood and settle over the woods behind the houses, shining their bright searchlights down onto the ground. There's nothing there, we've looked - save for a golf course. (Also the police only have one helicopter for the Manchester area, so who's were these?) We've moved since and our visitors still come and helicopters still roam around near us. It's become a joke in our house, we've even had strange, dark colored cars appear late at night that park and seem to watch the house. On one occasion one of them drew up by the front of the house and began taking flash photographs. (Why anyone would want photographs of our rented house at 3 AM in the morning is beyond us.) We've even had police cars following my son at one stage. Sure it could be paranoia, but I've seen it myself and the occupants were definitely interested in us.

We still hear our visitors on the landing at night, the boards are loose and it doesn’t take much weight on them to make a noise even with a carpet. We also leave the landing light on now for the younger children and all the bedroom doors open. I see their shadows on the landing outside our door regularly, but they never stay when I investigate and there's never anyone there when we look. They occasionally leave us some sign that they've been there - like placing extremely heavy planters from our neighbors house on our drive in a pyramid formation, but on the whole they seem to prefer visiting our dreams, which of late seem to be full of information that neither of us can recall the following day. Another strange coincidence that came from Zetatalk were the many similarities that myself and my eldest son had joked about. We're both StarTrek fans and at one stage had considered submitting some scripts for the Voyager/DS9 series. We drew up many ideas, but found that before we could complete them, similar, if not almost identical episodes began appearing on the series. As time passed we became disillusioned and so never finished any of our ideas, but on discovering Zetatalk we were amazed to find many, many matches to details contained within our scripts. Subjects we had tossed around as our works of fiction described and explained in the pages of Zetatalk.

If anything Zetatalk seems to have made us stronger than we were before. It has taken our confusion and directed it. It's helped change us, as we're no longer the people we were before. Although I'm still not sure what orientation I'm supposed to be. I feel I'm STO, but STS are all supposed to be massing in one place, so why are we among the STS? Maybe I'm where I'm supposed to be? All I know is I've become more ruthless than I used to be, in fact I'd say dangerous, but then perhaps that's the direction I've got to go. Yet I don't care what happens to me, only that the group survives, so perhaps that makes me STO. I dare say I'll find out eventually. Everything that has happened to us could quite easily be explained as coincidence, but if that fact is true then let me ask you one simple question. When do coincidences stop being circumstances without apparent connection and become something more?

Offered by Brian.