That evening, at the behest of Mary, we began a long walk around the area we lived in.  We left on foot, and almost immediately I was engulfed in the experience, plunged into a strange world of hallucinations and general weirdness.  We walked away from our townhouse complex, and I immediately began ‘seeing things’ that were not there.  From the bushes, at almost every junction between them and a repeating concrete wall that adorned the road towards a nearby shopping center, I began seeing large shadowy knights.  I would see them begin moving as we approached, large swords and shields being wielded by monsters that must have been at least 10 feet tall.  I tried ignoring them, and didn’t mention them to Mary at all.  As we would pass by one, it would vanish into a cloud of black smoke, and upon inspection when we passed, there was only the concrete wall there.  As soon as we passed one however, another would begin moving away from the wall in our path, and would again begin moving its sword into the ready position.  Eventually they would be standing at the ready on both sides of the street, and would all vanish just as we got close enough to get a better look.

For a long, long time I thought these hallucinations were due to the strange drink I had been offered the night before.  I searched long and hard on the internet, these were not LSD like hallucinations, they were almost real.  I had settled on them being something like belladonna or amanita muscaria — almost like a waking dream.  They were not drug induced however, but rather mind control induced. At the time I had no knowledge of the capabilities of this technology, and even after learning of it would not make the obvious connection that modifying the visual cortex using the same mechanism proven to me in the Truman Show readily and easily explained what I was experiencing.  This inability to make connections between experiences is also induced with mind control, and its polar opposite, creating or highlighting connections most people do not see play an important role in both the induction of the appearance of paranoid schizophrenia, but also in the mind control induced sign of the times.   

The Signs” creates internally the connection between artistic works: songs, paintings, and written literature and the victim… instilling the feeling that the work of art was created for you, or about you.  It’s almost as if the entire world is speaking to you, and its effect is to foster the belief that you are in the End Times.  The world around you screams it, from every angle at all times; passages and lyrics which never before held this meaning change and warp; and together the effect is significantly dramatic.  

The opposite of this vision which increases contentedness of thoughts and ideas is an intentional obfuscation of the truth, a cloud of unaware.   It is this induced unawareness of surroundings that I believe you are a victim of, along with everyone you know.   That the truth of the world around us is being intentionally hidden using advanced technology, and while some see, most dismiss the connection between events like the JFK assassination, Watergate, and Iran Contra as paranoia… they are much, much more.   These events define Casolaro’s Octopus, and put its head squarely in the criminal and intelligence networks in Miami, FL.

We pressed on, and I continued to ignore the strange moving statues which were seemingly guarding our long walk.  Somewhere along the way, Mary informed me that something was happening tonight.   She said that while we were out walking, something had happened at our home. Someone had been killed.  It wasn’t clear where she was getting this information, but it was clear that it was new to her, she had just received it.  Had I been able to see clearly, it would have linked to the conversation the previous night, the wild accusations, and I probably would have dismissed it.  I did not make the connection though, and I took what she was telling me very seriously.  I asked her what had happened and received no response, instead she continued to instruct me.  She told me that I could say that someone had broken into our home, and I had attacked them to defend her.  We were nearly a half mile away from the house now, and it did not even dawn on me to question how this could have happened so soon after our departure.  It had to have been planned, if it had happened at all, but that obvious piece of information eluded me as well.  We continued walking, my fear now turned away from the strange shadowy figures, which had stopped appearing, and focused entirely on the story Mary was telling me.  Why would I take the blame for it?  It made no sense, I couldn’t even imagine why she was asking me to do such a thing.  We stopped walking, and laid down on a hill in a nearby park, staring at the stars.  There was very little conversation, my brain was feverishly trying to understand what it was that was happening to us, how this could possibly be.  After several minutes just staring at the sky, we got up and continued walking.  

My keys fell out of my pocket sometime during that walk, house keys, car keys, and all. I would not notice until we arrived back at our home hours later, but in retrospect, I imagine that it had happened when we were laying on the hill.  I was lucky that time, that Mary had a second copy of both of the important ones.

Nearing a lake about a block from our home, Mary spoke again.. “wait, hold on…” She looked off towards the fountain in the lake, her eyes wandering towards the sky, telling me that she was somehow receiving another communication.  She told me that her brother Damon had been walked in on while he was there, that my roommate had come home, and that he was killed also. 
My thoughts raced back to the strange descriptions of The Family, a loosely knit network that had become the new mafia.  I imagined that perhaps I was being deceived, and looked at her.  “Is it Damon there, or someone else?”  The idea that there were many more people involved in what was happening should have been clear to me then, but it wasn’t.  Still, I asked the question, and her reply was swift: “No, definitely Damon.” 
At this point, I decided that I had to get more information, and I adjusted our path to loop back towards our home.  We could see the complex down a long street, and to my great surprise, I saw two police cars parked on the grass next to our building.  Their lights were on, and I was filled with dread.  How could this be happening?  
We walked away quickly, I had no intention of going anywhere near the law enforcement vehicles.  Mary suggested that we go to my parents house, which was a little over a mile away.  On the walk, she suggested that I ask them to hire a lawyer for me, someone to defend me.  I told her that made no sense to me, that if anything, I would rather get a plane ticket.  She would not stop with her suggestions that it was essential that an attorney be hired.  Wouldn’t that make me look guilty?  I hadn’t done anything wrong, somehow plunged into this strange tale of organized crime, and somehow being asked to take the blame for someone else’s crime.  I had no intention of doing it, and I made that much clear to Mary.  We began walking back towards our apartment, and sat down at a picnic table on a wooden deck overlooking a very large lake.
What I saw next was unfathomable.  I looked out towards the lake, and saw at least twenty rafts, made of wood with fires in the center of them floating all over the lake.  There were small gnome like people, two per raft, and it seemed as if they were tending to the fires in the center.  They were just there, floating, on a lake that we passed by almost every day.  It was always empty.  I wondered briefly if this were some sort of strange fireworks display, though it was nowhere near the Fourth of July.  Mary saw it too, and commented… “it’s angels… maybe everything is going to be OK after all.” The entire thing was surreal, seeing something so obviously strange should have been off putting, but it was not.  In fact, her words had breathed a new relief into me, and I calmly suggested that we go back home.  

Many times in the future this vision would be recalled by both myself and Mary. She never denied seeing it, though many other shared experiences she has since denied. I would later decide that what we witnessed that night was the “Lake of Fire,” the abyss of Revelation. It wasn’t what I expected, the water itself was not aflame, but the strangeness of it was never forgotten.

We were only minutes away at that point, and when we arrived back at the house, the door was open.  My roommate John was sleeping soundly on the couch, apparently not slain as Mary had insinuated.  

More relief.   After ineffectively searching for my lost keys after arriving, we went to sleep.. it had been many hours of walking that strange night, and we were very tired.  We woke up, and things would return to almost normal before our Thanksgiving weekend trip, though the strangeness remained in my memory… as soon as I’d recall the two or three strange events, however, I would quickly dismiss them from my mind… hoping it had passed us by, and was over.

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