- Books, Literature, and Writing»
- Magazines, Newspapers & Letters
LA Xpress Paranormal Column UFOs Part One Sydney Silver
UFOs Part One
An Archived Record of My La Xpress Column
Thanks to the very nice gentlemen I met at the Florentine Gardens Party who said they are reading my column. :-) I lost my clipboard of contacts but will retrieve it soon and see many of you again. Now, on to a topic I have been called crazy, weird, or a liar for: UFOs.
I'm just going to start with square one and tell you events that I remember in my life, and you can decide what it was. I didn't classify any of what happened as a UFO experience until I was about 16 and mysteriously discovered a book in my bookshelf that had previously never been there (and that no one in the house recalled having bought). It stuck out to me like a sore thumb, almost as if it had been put there for me to find. The book was named "Communion" and was about alien abductions. The second I saw it, I felt a shock of dread; and as I read it, I couldn't help but think "how did this book get into my bookshelf?" But perhaps some visitor had dropped it off and I coincidentally walked right to the shelf to find it that day as if a magnet had drawn me in.
Now. In this column, I will sometimes discuss paranormal ideas, but a lot of it will also be re-counts of possible paranormal experiences I have been through. I will be discussing possible UFO's in the next few columns.
So, shoot back with me to the time I was about 2-4 years old. As some readers will remember, this is when I was also getting recurring nightmares of subject matter way beyond my years. There was a situation occurring which, at that time, I thought was real. I was being visited. It was only because adults convinced me that it was a dream, that over the years I began to doubt the memories. Following, are the memories.
I remember (or as adults said, dreamt) being in my bed when tall shadowy beings would stand around it. Laying on my back, they would surround all open areas of the bed, which were to my right and the foot of the bed. I couldn't move. They would get me into some sort of trance, and investigate my mind. They never said anything, but somehow I just knew things about what was going on. They would show me dots, and ask me to connect the dots. Each dot represented a concept. I would connect things, and then they would analyze that, puzzle over it, and try to figure out why I had connected things that way.They were testing my critical thinking skills and wondering why I think they way I do. Then they would show me numbers, and I am not sure if they were teaching me math or still testing my brain or both.
I felt as if they were beings from the future, possibly humans, who knew everything I would do in my life. They let me know it was important to study me in my formative years. The last test, was the test I hated the most. At the end of what feels like at least three visits, they would show me a vision of a lollipop rack. Each lollipop was colored normally except for ONE particularly large glowing green lollipop. I was told to choose one, and they refused to tell me what choosing a lillipop would do, nor would they release me until I had chosen one. I hated this fluorescent lollipop, because I felt it was a trick. They would watch me carefully to see; was I attracted to taking the abnormal lollipop? Or would I avoid the lollipop because I knew it was special? Because I did not know what choosing the lollipop would mean to me, I would agonize over this decision the longest, whereas I would connect dots of concepts easily and quickly. They would not say a thing to help me out. Should I choose the lollipop? Or would the darn thing kill me? I knew they wanted me to pick it - so did that mean I shouldn't? Or would they know I'd think that - so I should pick it?
I recall, not choosing the glowing green lollipop at least twice. Then, on the third visit, I finally went for it, with full dread in my heart, wondering if something horrible would happen. But it didn't. They let me know that now that I had chosen it, I would be able to call them back to visit me anytime I wanted.They left me, stunned, laying in my bed - one minute the room was as if a shadow was over it, things were surreal and slow as if I was in a trance, the next minute I could move, the hallway light was bright as ever, and I could hear the TV and my parents in the living room. This time, I sprang up out of bed, bounded into the living room, and screamed "they were here! The monsters, the monsters came back!" I fell sobbing into my parents arms as they told me over and over again that I had been dreaming. 'But," I insisted, "I wasn't sleeping! I never fell asleep! I was awake!" They didn't believe me even though I fully remembered that I had never fallen asleep, NOR woken up.
I never thought that these beings, if they existed and weren't a dream, were aliens. I had no concept of aliens. In my child mind, they were "monsters," tall shadows of monsters that could suddenly appear, slightly darken the room, render me immobile, test my brain, en-trance me, etc. Through the years of growing up, I determined that I must have been dreaming, even though it always nagged at me. When I was a child and heard a strange sound, I'd stiffen up, wondering if "they" were there. It was only when I was 16 years old, pulled to the bookshelf to find the book "Communion" strangely poking out, that I suddenly put many experiences together. My mind shot back, and I wondered - could these beings have been real? Could they have been aliens? To this day, the experience was so mystical and shadowy, that I could not tell you with certainty if it was real or a dream. I include it in my list of possible UFO experiences only because it's just that - possible. It was an experience that I could never resolve in my mind because I really felt as if never fallen asleep - nor awoken. In my child mind the experience had been real.
Feel free to email replies to: WildCatSydney@yahoo.com. Sydney Silver co-hosts the Wild Man Bill Radio show. Find her at www.WildManBillShow.com or www.Sydney-Silver.com.