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"The part we ignore…may contain the clue to the whole subject." ~ J. Allen Hynek

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Bigfoot

Water and Bigfoot Dream

Having trouble with the WordPress editor feature – – wanted to post this link and added thought about the previous post I Finally Saw Sasquatch!!!!

Here’s a link to a dream I had awhile ago about water and Bigfoot, posted at my Frame 352: The Stranger Side of Sasquatch blog.

About the painting I saw in my dream last night: in front of the white planet and half moon was a classic saucer shaped flying saucer/UFO. I’ll try to draw a picture and post it soon.

I Finally Saw Sasquatch!!!!

 

I Finally Saw Sasquatch!!!!!!!!!

I did! We did! Jim and I both. Muscular, about seven feet tall, the crescent-cone shaped head. Unbelievable; to use an overused word, awesome. I mean awe inspiring, magical, powerful, incredible. A gift.

Now here’s the thing. I saw the Sasquatch in a dream. DO NOT GO AWAY! Please stay and read on.

The dream was so real. Vivid, among the most vivid dreams I’ve had. A lucid dream, a dream that I felt, could sense odors and aromas, felt the wood on the door, the cold of the linoleum floor. Never thought for a moment it wasn’t real.

Jim and I are in house that’s surrounded by woods. I look through a little window in the door, and see a bear cub in a tree. I say to Jim “The mother must be near by,” and then I see the mother bear. I’m just about to look away when I see the Bigfoot. I am sure it’s a Bigfoot, but . . . I mean, could it be? Yes, it is! The Sasquatch comes out from behind 

the trees, the bears move off. I whisper excitedly to Jim to come look. We see the Sasquatch, and it is just so damn obvious that this is real. This is not a person in a suit. This is not a fake, a hoax, a bear. It is only, simply, really, a Sasquatch. He is human like, but not human. He is beyond a mere “dumb” animal or “creature.” He is . . . akin to us, but, more. 

The Sasquatch — and I get the impression it’s a male, even though I don’t see anything obvious to let me know that — turns and looks right at me. He moves right up to the door and presses his face to the window. I can’t move, I am amazed, transfixed. I am not scared, but I am careful. Respectful. His eyes! It’s the eyes in that incredible face that are powerful. Deep and knowing. Surpassing human. Intelligence, seeing.

The Sasquatch calls me by name. Telepathically. We are communicating clearly — no words, but through mind. He urges me to keep writing about him, the Sasquatch, and, about UFOs. “Do not stop, or give it up,” he tells me. “Keep writing, we need you.” And then: “We are connected to UFOs, to space. We do exist on another dimension.”

I just can’t believe I have been given this gift. This beautiful gift. This Sasquatch tells me people need to know about it all; dimensions and UFOs and Sasquatch . . .

A huge painting then fills my minds eye: a large white sphere and a half moon-like shape behind it in a black background. While this half moon shape has craters and looks very much like our moon, it isn’t our moon. The white planet, and the moon like satelite planet have something to do with the Bigfoot’s message.

The intelligence of this being is vast. Serious business. Abilities beyond ours. Knowledge beyond ours. But also, humor.

He leaves, but then half turns and I get a vibe of humor from him. I feel something small and hard fall in my lap, and I think I hear him make a sound like a chuckle as he walks away. 

I look down in my lap — because I’ve long ago just plopped down onto the floor in sheer dumb amazement — and see a little plastic Bigfoot charm with a hook to put on a cord or chain. The message was clear: wear this silly little image to remind yourself what you’ve just experienced, to tell others, to keep writing, and to know that Sasquatch is real.

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I can’t believe I saw Sasquatch! I am full of joy and … I’ve never felt anything like this in my life. I have to write about this, now. Then I think no, I have to tell others I know and talk with them about this. I think of who I can contact: Tim Binnall, Tim Beckley, Jeremy Vaeni, Lon Strickler. Who would believe me the most? Does it matter if they believe me, as long as they just give me the time to talk about it? 

I have to get the news out. But then I feel dejected; who  is going to believe me? I’ve seen UFOs, more than once. Experienced hauntings, psychic events, visitations, missing time, and now, Bigfoot? Really? What am I, some kind of High Strangeness Nut-Magnet? 

I remember what the Sasquatch told me. Get it out there. So that’s what I decide to do.

______________________________________________________

I realized writing this that, while the importance of writing about this was the message from the the Sasquatch, and the information that there is a UFO/outer space connection, the Sasquatch didn’t tell me how, or what. No details. That’s for us to discover.  

There is more to this dream. Before seeing the Sasquatch, there is flooding everywhere. Jim and I are trying to stay ahead of the water that is coming and we hitch a ride with a man and his family, who takes us to his home; the home where we saw the Sasquatch. We’re waiting for a safe moment to leave again. It’s here, while we’re waiting, that I look out the window in the door and see, first the bears, then the Bigfoot.

I’ve also had other dreams connected to water and Bigfoot, and bears appearing as a sort of psychopomp for the Sasquatch event.

Bigfoot researcher Lisa Shiel wrote, about a water-Bigfoot connection:

Bigfoot have exhibited some very un-apelike behavior, much of it concerning water. Apes don’t swim. But Bigfoot have been seen swimming in lakes and rivers. They wade out into rivers to steal fishermen’s nets full of fish. They like the water. UFOs have been seen going into or coming out of water. Some witnesses have watched UFOs suck the water out of lakes. They like the water too.  – Lisa Shiel

Related links from my Frame 352: The Stranger Side of Sasquatch blog:

My Name is Flix cover

Bigfoot Carries Away Bear

Didn’t See Sasquatch, Yet

 

 

 

Bubble Orbs and Dream Messages

August 15, 2019, Yachats, Oregon

As usual, looking up at the night sky for UFOs, — the daytime sky as well. Lots of UFO and Sasquatch activity on the Oregon coast and coastal range. But other than that, I wasn’t thinking of UFOs in particular. Hadn’t even been on-line because the wi fi is so iffy on the coast, and I  wasn’t reading any UFO books. (although I did have many with me, as well as notes on various UFO expereinces. My go to take along when I travel. Still, I hadn’t even looked at any of my notes or books.) The dream I had last night was just so damn intense. Interesting how the emotional  impact of a dream takes on such importance, no matter the subject or actions in the dream.

And, before this: I was having trouble sleeping. Not sure why. Mini migraines past two days and that’s unusual, I don’t get those on the coast. Had my sleep mask on. Felt something small get up on the bed; felt the pressure. It was definitely a small creature; it  kneaded the bed by my side a little and settled in.  At first I thought the movement  was from an earthquake. Or, that an animal had come through the open window, which of course makes no sense. (We were on the second floor.)  Then I got it: my cat had visited me. We left him at home and I was thinking of him, he hates it when we leave. Mango had sent me a ‘I miss you” message.

 

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UFO Music in a bubble

This dream was very intense. Throughout the dream was clear and strong message that I must remember this.

I’m standing in front of a large window. Black as black night sky. No stars. I hear music, but it’s not coming from where you’d think. Meaning, when we hear something, regardless of the kind of sound, it sounds. . . ‘normal’ it’s coming from somewhere. The sound might be odd, but the fact you can hear it isn’t. Hard to explain. But this sound, wasn’t in my head, and wasn’t from out there. It was from. . . another dimension. Inside a bubble  The best I can explain this is the sound I have heard in a few hauntings. Voices, EVPs, laughter, very clear, but not from . . . here. Not in my head, not from, say, the other room. But from another place. Another space. 

The music  I heard was classical, very nice. But not from here. Then white letters appear on this window, against the black sky. The dream itself is almost in black and white. Sentences  appear; “UFO. are REAL” and all kinds of other statements about the reality of UFOs. For emphasis some of the words get larger and move closer towards me. They — the aliens — are clearly communicating with me. And they want me to tell others. I can’t see these aliens, but their ship is clearly outlined in this dark sky. A very large ship. The words keep coming. The music is a part of ‘them’ — and it’s clear. Aliens (or at least these aliens) come from, not from outer space or within the earth but another dimension right next to us. All around us, all the time, they’re here, in bubbles — that’s how they travel. They’re aware of us and wish we could be aware of them. Some of us are. Most are not. 

And then, further information: these “bubbles” are related to the orange orb I saw, as well as other orbs. The message I received was: “These orbs (including your orange orb) are a part of this. We are UFOs. We are here. We are aware of you.”

Then theses aliens tell me I have to get the word out, and to help me,

I told my husband about the dream as we were driving back from the coast into Eugene. I mentioned that the emotional intensity, the importance of the dream, goes beyond the content. He said “It sounds more like a communication than a dream.” I agree. 

Sometimes dreams are “just” dreams. Other times, they are truly more than that; messages from the astral. From spirit. From . . . more. 

An added note: I love listening to the ocean while I’m going to sleep. Both nights we were on the coast, I tried very hard to ignore other sounds: my own snoring, my husband’s snoring, traffic from the highway, the occasional barking dog, people returning to their cabins. That night, I had finally succeeded in tuning out everything except the ocean roar, and had more than one “mind post card” — the brilliant silver tops of the waves jumping into my mind’s eye. It was intense, sudden and magnificant.

 

Tim Beckley’s Podcast: Attack of the Orange Orbs

I was a guest. It was fun. Orange orbs, Marian apparitions, and Bigfoot.

FBI and BIGFOOT

A link and a little cynicism on my Bigfoot blog Frame 352: The Stranger Side of Sasquatch.

Mothman, by Thor: My Mothman blog

I’ve pretty much have stopped blogging on all my blogs on blogger, though I keep my paranormal Bigfoot blog: Frame 352, The Stranger Side of Sasquatch,
and my mothman blog: Mothman Flutterings Two. I’ve been trying to post everything here. But do over to Mothman Flutterings for a post about a mothy dream I had last night.vintage butterfly lady.jpg

Aliens Through the Wall: Then Why Did Ya Tell Me?!”

It seems when I sleep in the afternoon, the dreams are weirder. I’m recovering from oral surgery, feeling sloggy and groggy, and so, slept for a couple of hours. (And when I woke up, thought it was time for work and had a moment of confusion on what to wear.)

So, the dream. I’m working away on writing, reading, researching all about This Stuff. UFOs, aliens, with a few cryptids thrown in. The usual. It’s night; outside the window I can see the dark night sky, a few stars. A knock at the door, I answer. Three males, all very different and very odd, are standing there. Without a word they just come in, pushy!

They act like MIB but don’t look like MIB. (Men in Black.) One looks like a boy of about sixteen, but I know he isn’t a young boy. He’s not even human. In fact, I know that none of these “men” are human. The other looks somewhat like an human, except the he’s really tall, and the other, about five foot nine, well. He’s simply a humanoid outline full of purple glittery shimmering material that keeps swirling around.

These men warn me in very strong terms not to discuss my experiences, my research. They know all about what I’ve written in the past. Everything. Every blog post, every article, every reference to me, every journal entry, and every discussion I’ve had with others about UFOs.

I am very offended. I ask them, “Just who do you think you are?!” and they don’t answer. They then walk right through the wall! Now that terrifies me. Then they walk back out, into the living room. They tell me “Don’t fuck with us, lady. We’re serious. You CANNOT tell anyone about us!”

“Then why,” I ask, “Are you showing up here at all, and showing off your wall trick?”

That, they ignore. They just walk through the wall again.

Later, I’m at work, I think.  Somewhere. I get a few people close to me together, tell them they cannot, CANNOT, tell anyone what they’re about to see. We’re in a room, locked door, paper over the peep hole. 

I am telling these people because the “men” later told me I could, but only if we promise not to tell others. Turns out I have video of their going through walls.

After I show the video, some tell me they don’t believe it because it’s easy to fake things. True, good point. I don’t know what to say.

Then the “men” show up and go through walls again. That gets everyone’s attention.

 

What I found interesting in this dream was the show off nature of the aliens, or whatever they were, along with their warning not to tell anyone. I asked what I considered a very reasonable question: then why show me all this?

True, as we know, when weird experiences happen and we tell others about them, many times we’re not believed. But many of us are compelled to tell our stories anyway. And there is certainly a trickster element in the UFO/alien paranormal realm. Lots of bizarre actions — performances, really, by “them” — often with warnings of keeping the experience secret.

My (Past) War With Skeptics

Oy. Skeptics.

When I first discovered the internet; many years ago, I went after skeptics. I had many a name for these debunkers. “Skeptoids,” “skeptic-bunkies,” and more. I had Yahoo groups (remember them?) devoted to bashing skeptics. Blogs that went after them with a vengeance. Argued with them, and, was the victim of their pathological insanity. I was called many names, insulted, lied about, and threatened. (With violence, with rape.)

I would count up the astounding number of links on the JREF forum relating to Bigfoot — so many dozens of links attacking the existence of Bigfoot! For a creature that skeptics insist isn’t real, there were sure (and no doubt still are; haven’t checked in a long time) a lot of threads devoted to Sasquatch.

Finally, I quite. Started using my own, real, legal name on-line. Partly because, in using my own name, that would hold me accountable to myself. Also, letting others know: this is me. Who I am. Really, truly me.

As it is now. Still me.

After awhile, things died down, and they’re still fairly quiet in that realm. But overall, lately, there has been an uptick in the skeptical world. Lots of links (see Anomalist, and Coast to Coast, etc. for links) to skeptics and anti-skeptics.

Things don’t change. They rest, they retreat for a moment, but after a while, they return. Skeptics are always with us. Still showing their ignorance, their smugness, their refusal to consider — seriously, and more importantly, honestly, — the subject they’re refuting.

Finally, I’d like to say, to para-phrase, “nobody believes in ghosts, until they’ve seen one.” Except, even in those cases, I know that’s not true. I’ve met a few who have seen ghosts, heard them, felt them, along with members of their family, and still refuse to acknowledge their existence. I’ve had people walk out of the room, rather than talk about the things they’ve seen, be it UFOs or strange creatures or ghosts. I’ve had people refuse to talk about the very things the rest of their loved ones have seen, as they themselves had. Their love for their family — siblings, spouses, etc. — isn’t enough to cancel out their fear, or refusal, to accept the anomaly.  (And by the way, I have seen and heard ghosts, many a time.)

Why?

A question that intrigues me, but at the same time, I don’t pay much attention to anymore. I don’t argue. I don’t explain. Not now. Not anymore.

I will happily discuss my experiences. But explain? Justify? Apologize? Nope.

It is not my job to convince you. I don’t want to convince anyone. I simply  tell my story. My truth. It is up to you — your choice — if you believe me, or care to honestly engage with me.

Otherwise, buzz off.

Joe R. Blakely Writes About Bigfoot

via Joe R. Blakely

 

Local (Eugene, Oregon) author has written a few books (fiction) about Bigfoot.

Blog at WordPress.com.

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