E3mpirical1 wrote:By the way I have a quick comment about the statement that drugs leave holes in your aura and make one vulnerable to entities. I must be honest here but this sounds like spiritual propaganda to me. No offense personally but the statement itsself is just.... it really does remind me of the government propganda on drugs; mainly marijuana.
Hate to burst your bubble E3mpirical1, but it's an absolute fact that drugs do spiritual damage to a person and leaves them open to invasion of negative entities. I have seen this first hand, and I won't go rounds debating it with anyone because I know it to be true. You can believe what you will, and I don't say this in some effort to "change your mind". But this is a public messageboard after all, and just as you are free to post the above belief, I am free to post mine and to share what I know about this subject for all those who are reading this exchange and therefore might benefit from it.
Many NR members are aware of the random snippet references I've made of my brother here and there. He was a character, there's no other word for it. Smart but stupid all at the same time; charming and seductive, hysterically funny and fun to be around yet simultaneously very dark. He was a criminal, with warrants for his arrest in 4 states. Connecticut, California, Oregon and Washington at last count. He started young, at the age of 10, and didn't pause until he was locked up at age 14 for stealing a gun then going on a convenience store robbing spree; took the money, holed up in a motel with plans to hop the first train into NYC the next morning. The cops found him after the motel clerk notified police; they surrounded the motel and got him by climbing in through the bathroom window. When he was finally released at 17 - albeit very reluctantly by the state of Connecticut - he picked up right where he left off with a vengence, all the while going to highschool, charming my dad, the cops and the judges, and pulling straight A's, I kid you not. I've seen the honors certificates. (and it's not that they didn't know he was up to "mischief" -- they did. But my dad became completely helpless to do anything about it, and my brother kept convincing the cops and the judges that he would change.) Those NR members who are psychically inclined have picked up on his "negative energy" without me ever sharing these particular details. All I had to do was mention "my brother" and their psychic antennas perked up. One NR member in particular, who also happens to be the most psychic person I have ever encountered, zeroed in on something which I never told her:
It was the drugs. The drugs my brother did created what's called an "energy match" for a demonic entity which was attached to him. And it didn't happen overnight. It took several years, as demonic attachments often do. But by the end, it was in full swing. I never once mentioned the drugs, to her, or ANYBODY at NR (only Tom / montalk knows the story). There was no way for her to know this. He started at age 10 with harmless cigarettes, which progressed to alcohol, marijuana, cocaine, then heroin, (smoking, not shooting; he was a needle-phobic) and who knows what else. He was always self-medicating. We think he was probably manic-depressive, since it runs in our family, and was the reason he swung back and forth between depressants and stimulants. But man alive did he enjoy the mary jane. He's the one who showed me what real, good pot was like. Unfortunately the stuff he smoked was laced with other stuff as well. I know, because I've smoked regular pot, and then I tried his. His "wasn't right." It smelled like a bud, it looked like a glimmering THC soaked bud, but it wasn't *just* a bud. !
You and others might laugh, but I'm leaving out most of the story. What's interesting is it's evident in the photos. I didn't see it back when I lived with him. Not til I got to Florida (sans my brother) and was buzzed on wine one night, enabling me to finally pull out the pics of my brother under the safety of the alcohol did I see it. I had many photos of him taken during the 2 year period where he was back in my life....and not one of them show his eyes. Not one single photo shows both eyes, facing the camera, open. It was like this moment in a movie, where the lead character has a weird realization and the suspenseful music picks up, louder, as she begins rapidly shuffling through pictures, trying to find one, any one, that shows his eyes.
None. In every photo, just as I was about to take the shot, he'd always *just* happen to glance down, away, or turn his head altogether. Or the rim of his hat would *just* happen to obscure his eyes. In one picture, I swear to God, the top of the photo cuts out his eyes! Leaving only the lower portion of his face. In another, you only see the back of his head with the gang banger handkerchief around his head, and the glowing paranormal orbs floating about his room. There was one picture I remember taking of him directly facing him head on, full face.................and it didn't come out on the developed roll. Completely MIA. How amazingly convenient. Conversly, I had tons of pics of him as a bright eyed, adorable energetic 10, 11, 12 year old in SoCal, looking squarely at the camera, smiling. But one night in Portland I did accidentally get one of his eyes in the photo, and it wasn't pretty. It's a series of 3 photos, and I had an internal voice urging me to "get closer!....closer.....closer....." as I snapped some pics. The final shot you see his eye, and it's cliche demonic red. And it ain't "camera red eye", because Adobe photoshop won't remove it. The pupil itself is red; not a bright glowing camera red eye red, but an actual natural red. His skin is corpse white, the face blank. He looks dead, with this red demon eye and dark shadows underneath. My coworker's 5 year old daughter had a "dream" the night before my brother was arrested in Portland. She told me "I had a scary dream last night.....a vampire bit your brother in the heart!" I asked her to describe the "vampire." She said, "It was black. With red eyes!"
To a 5 year old, that's a "vampire." To me, that was a demon.
My brother did a lot of drugs, a LOT. And all those drugs created some major holes in his aura and left him wide fricking open to attachments of all sorts. He knew he had attachments though. He enjoyed it. He was protective of them. He didn't want "help" for it, he didn't want them to go. He called them "hitchhikers." In a way they were his buddies. When he was just hanging out in a room he'd tell me that the attachment(s) would leave him to roam about the room, mostly hang around up in the corners. This was not a kid who was educated in the matters of true paranormal knowledge or the occult, yet what he described, and the termininology he used to describe it, was exactly what you'll find in Robert Bruce's book "Practical Psychic Self Defense." The "hitchhikers" looked like a glowing sparkly comet trail, trailing behind him as he walked, that's the only way to describe it. I've never seen anything like it before. After a particularly nasty incident with an entity that had finally invaded my room in our paranormal apartment from hell, me and my friend Mike set out to do a cleaning. My brother got wind of it....oh boy. The look in his eyes was like looking at the demon itself. As dramatic as that sounds. It was very creepy. I know it gave Mike some pause. But yeah, my brother slowly sauntered into my room asking "What are you doing?" alarmed and suspicious. He knew. He proceeded to lay down on my bed, lounging there quietly, seductively defiant. He would not budge, and continued to drape himself on my bed, refusing to move, staring long and hard at me with that weird look, I can't desribe it. It was other worldly, but something very negative. He was attempting to interfere and stop the cleaning. I kept telling him to leave....just go....LEAVE....GET OUT....NOW!!!" But he kept laying there, eyes half open, that weird negative seductive creepy laxidaisal look on his face. I resorted to screaming at him, but he wouldn't budge. Only after much screaming did he ever so slowly get up and slowly leave the room, pausing in the doorway to look back at me. Whatever was in / on him did NOT want me getting rid of the rest of its family.
And all the while he kept up with the alcohol, the pot, and who knows what else. Although by the end, he didn't need the drugs and alcohol anymore; once they've got a strong foothold, they're in. It's a done deal.
So you can believe what you want to believe. If you haven't seen evidence for it, then I can understand why you'd think that drugs wouldn't leave somebody open to entities. If you must know, when I first moved in with my brother as a roommate I was just coming off being an Atheist for 3 years. But after one year of living in the "paranormal nightmare from hell" apartment with him, aka, "The Vortex", there was no going back for me. I didn't know how I could have been so stupid to try to convince myself that there was nothing else beyond this reality. I saw things that you only see in a Hollywood movie, stuff I've only found mentioned in Robert Bruce's book. Incredible. Just absolutely unreal. I've posted some of my random experiences here and there throughout the forum; some here may remember them offhand.
So that's that. Take it as you will......
"Life's journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting "Holy shit ... what a ride!" - Anonymous
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"I get by with a little help from my (higher density) friends."
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