posted on Nov, 19 2007 @ 06:27 PM
A year or so ago I was watching an older interview on television with a gentleman from South America, who was part of a several-month long "UFO
problem" where people were being burned by lights from craft in the skies. Where it was precisely has slipped, and with a little luck I would come
across this account again. A gentleman who had worked in the military unit called to investigate the events was interviewed. One night he received an
implant, believe to have been placed while someone, or something, was in his tent when he awoke.
Fast forward 20 or so years. He comes forward for a UFO magazine whose work he respected. He opted to not withhold his information any longer despite
any gag orders, believing others had a right to know what happened and come to their own conclusions. At least, he figured, the magazine would listen
to what he said and give him a chance. Little was ever released to investigators, despite many reports written, photos taken, and video filmed. As
usual, what was received was heavily redacted, no film shared, and a few photos released.
He played with the square chip within his arm before the camera. He never had it removed, but claimed to have it x-rayed, and it never showed up on
them. Not long after the interview, he "committed suicide," which his friends and family never accepted.
I thought about that chip for sometime. To me, it no longer matters who or what put it there, I just never could stop entertaining why he never had it
removed. "He could have it tested, the results published, and everything will change." Naivety can run through the body like blood. So I pictured
myself finding an implant. What if I remembered the events that lead to it's introduction under my skin, even if they were just planted screen
memories. I don't think I'd ever have the nerve to get it removed, for fear that it would be bitterly replaced, or worse.
I remember another account from a man named Jim, who suffered through repeated "visitations" of a cruel nature. He could remember some things so
clearly, and got the impression during their occurrence that what was happening was designed to be so bizarre, so ridiculous, that if he ever shared
them with anyone, no one would believe him. As a result, he felt trapped. "Do I be honest about what happened and be sent away, or do I keep all of
this hidden within me?"
That is why I said, fear is the enemy's fossil fuel. Aptly described, because it shouldn't be necessary, either. Do you understand?