I See Another Dimension Now, and it Scares Me
I see another dimension now, and it scares me. (Click above for video)
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Whistler Blowers, Insiders
No, it’s called a mirror and that’s you you see.
what a load of rubbish
This story reminds me quite a lot of the following account as described by Whitley Strieber, of a strange trip which he experienced:
“….Some years ago, as I reported in my book Breakthrough, I experienced something that just missed evolving into a disappearance.
I was driving south on Route 17 in Paramus, New Jersey, taking one of my son’s friends to meet his father at a diner where the two of us often exchanged children. Our summer house was near Woodstock New York and his was in the Delaware Water Gap, and we met halfway.
As I drove up to the diner, it was necessary to cross the highway using an overpass. I took the exit to the overpass. I could see my friend’s truck in the parking lot of the diner, so I knew that he was waiting.
However, when I went onto the exit, I was surprised to find that we were going down into a sunken highway, not up onto an overpass. I said to the boy, “I’ve taken a wrong turn,” and I began looking ahead for an exit. I did not tell him how confusing this actually was. I knew the area well. There was no sunken highway like the one we were on.
I took the first exit I saw, and found myself driving into one of the strangest and most disturbing situations I have ever encountered. First, it had been cloudy in Paramus, but now mottled sunlight was shining down through the trees that arched over the street. Instead of normal houses, I observed strange, low structures with large, deeply carved serpentine reliefs on their walls. At this point, the boy began to panic and started trying to jump out of the car. He would unlock the passenger door and I would lock it again with the automatic door lock.
I was frantic. I had no idea where we were. I drove aimlessly, turning corners, trying to get out of that bizarre neighborhood and get back to the familiar world. I did not think for a moment that there was anything good about it. The buildings exuded a sinister feeling. It was as if I had stumbled into a labyrinth and gotten lost there—with an innocent child as my fellow victim.
Finally, I saw a brighter area at the end of one of the tree-shaded streets. As we drove out into some rough brush, I could see cars in the distance, and soon I was on Route 80, about twenty miles from where we had exited in Paramus.
By the time I returned to the diner, my friend was standing in the bed of his pickup looking for us. He had seen us take the exit, but when we’d never crossed onto 17, he had gotten more and more worried. To our perception, the whole event had taken just a few minutes, but from his standpoint, much more time had passed, enough to cause him to become quite concerned.
Through the whole ordeal, the boy and I had not exchanged a word. His father was extremely skeptical of me and my odd stories, so I was hoping that the boy wouldn’t mention it. But the moment the car stopped, he jumped out and ran across the diner’s parking lot yelling, “daddy, daddy, Whitley took me on a trip through the Twilight Zone.”
We looked for the place with great care, but never found it again. And I must admit, I never want to.”
————————————————-
- Story was taken from here:
http://alifeboundbybooks.blogspot.com/2011/10/haunted-halloween-2011-whitley-strieber.html
This story reminds me quite a lot of the following account as described by Whitley Strieber, of a strange trip which he experienced:
“….Some years ago, as I reported in my book Breakthrough, I experienced something that just missed evolving into a disappearance.
I was driving south on Route 17 in Paramus, New Jersey, taking one of my son’s friends to meet his father at a diner where the two of us often exchanged children. Our summer house was near Woodstock New York and his was in the Delaware Water Gap, and we met halfway.
As I drove up to the diner, it was necessary to cross the highway using an overpass. I took the exit to the overpass. I could see my friend’s truck in the parking lot of the diner, so I knew that he was waiting.
However, when I went onto the exit, I was surprised to find that we were going down into a sunken highway, not up onto an overpass. I said to the boy, “I’ve taken a wrong turn,” and I began looking ahead for an exit. I did not tell him how confusing this actually was. I knew the area well. There was no sunken highway like the one we were on.
I took the first exit I saw, and found myself driving into one of the strangest and most disturbing situations I have ever encountered. First, it had been cloudy in Paramus, but now mottled sunlight was shining down through the trees that arched over the street. Instead of normal houses, I observed strange, low structures with large, deeply carved serpentine reliefs on their walls. At this point, the boy began to panic and started trying to jump out of the car. He would unlock the passenger door and I would lock it again with the automatic door lock.
I was frantic. I had no idea where we were. I drove aimlessly, turning corners, trying to get out of that bizarre neighborhood and get back to the familiar world. I did not think for a moment that there was anything good about it. The buildings exuded a sinister feeling. It was as if I had stumbled into a labyrinth and gotten lost there—with an innocent child as my fellow victim.
Finally, I saw a brighter area at the end of one of the tree-shaded streets. As we drove out into some rough brush, I could see cars in the distance, and soon I was on Route 80, about twenty miles from where we had exited in Paramus.
By the time I returned to the diner, my friend was standing in the bed of his pickup looking for us. He had seen us take the exit, but when we’d never crossed onto 17, he had gotten more and more worried. To our perception, the whole event had taken just a few minutes, but from his standpoint, much more time had passed, enough to cause him to become quite concerned.
Through the whole ordeal, the boy and I had not exchanged a word. His father was extremely skeptical of me and my odd stories, so I was hoping that the boy wouldn’t mention it. But the moment the car stopped, he jumped out and ran across the diner’s parking lot yelling, “daddy, daddy, Whitley took me on a trip through the Twilight Zone.”
We looked for the place with great care, but never found it again. And I must admit, I never want to.”
————————————–
Story was taken from here:
http://alifeboundbybooks.blogspot.com/2011/10/haunted-halloween-2011-whitley-strieber.html