Hmm, well, here are three examples of "timeline manipulations", time wars, whatever you want to call it which I thought of, worth mentioning. The first one is a BIG one. Sorry if it's long. It's a good read though. Enjoy.
- In 1997, I was living with my then boyfriend in an apartment in Racho Santa Margarita, California. One night after dinner I went to the shopping plaza across the street to this coffeehouse called "Haute Coffee" to read my book and drink a coffee. My boyfriend was at home studying. (he was in college.) I was at Haute Coffee for a couple of hours, reading Carl Sagan's "Pale Blue Dot." At about 10 p.m. a "thoughtform" cut in the line you could say, like "Okay, time to go, get up, let's go." Chop chop, get up, now, let's go.
So, I immediately obeyed, without question. Stopped what I was doing, closed the book, and began gathering up my backpack and stuff to get up and go.
"Come on, let's go, hurry......"
I picked up the pace, and hurried out the door and started walking through the parking lot.
"HURRY!"
It was an actual voice now, in my head. No lie. Like part of my thoughts, but kind of not. It sounded like me I guess, female. Only older, and more mature / maternal.
I just obeyed, and didn't question what this was or what was happening, and started sort of run walking. But apparantly not fast enough. The voice started SCREAMING at me,
"GOOOOOO!! RUUUUUUUUUN!! GOOOOOOO! GOOOOOOOO! GOOOOOOOOOO!" It just screamed at me, over and over and over again, totally hysterical, the urgency was INSANE. Without questioning anything, I just ran like a crazy person, full speed, as fast as I could, jaywalked (jay ran? 
) across the intersection, tore up the small hill, through the bushes, down the sidewalk, racing through the apartment complex walkway. When I came to our front door I just burst through it at full speed, like BAM!!
I burst in to find my boyfriend sitting on the desk chair, a cigarette in his mouth, a lighter in his hand, thumb on the flint, one second from striking it...........................and the smell of natural gas filling the apartment. It all hit me in an instant, and I screamed "NOOOOOOO!!!"
The force of me bursting through the door like that scared him, and he had jumped and looked at me bug eyed. He froze in mid action, just staring at me like, "WTF?!?!?!"
I started ranting about the natural gas smell and told him to put the lighter down and get up and get out! right now! He couldn't smell it. He had damage to his sense of smell, and hadn't noticed the smell slowly filling up the small, 600 sq. foot apartment with all the windows closed in the 4 hours I had been gone.
One more second and............well, you fill in the blank. The whole thing is so bizarre that in retrospect, it doesn't seem real. It's like something out of a movie.
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In 1994 I was eating at a Carl's Jr. on Lake Forest Drive in Lake Forest, CA. (another Carl's Jr. glitch / woo woo story! Yes! haha) I was eating and reading when I suddenly had the urge to glance up at the front door. Just in time to see a tall guy with shoulder length dirty blond hair and a black trenchcoat kind of burst through the door, wide eyed, looking around, like he was looking for someone. He was carrying a black musical instrument case.
He turned to his right, saw me sitting there towards the end of the aisle in my booth facing him, and he perked up, like, "Ah ha! There you are!" He made a beeline straight for me. I just stared at him, fascinated.
He stopped about five feet away from me in the aisle, and struck up a conversation with me. Me being who I was at the time, just went along with it, curiously, looking up at him from my booth. Like Sure, okay....why not. I was like that back then, more apt to just unquestioningly "go with the flow" of things. The reason I engaged him is because my "sixth sense" sensors felt that he was good, he was okay and safe, nothing to worry about. My sixth sense at that point was for the most part, strictly survival-oriented, mostly for navigating my way around people, who always seemed to be coming at me. So, it was a necessity.
He was alright though, despite the weirdness of the situation, but I didn't focus on that too much. I don't remember any of what we talked about at first, but, he talked to me, and I listened, nodding, like Okay. Okay. Okay. Sure. He took a seat at the next booth, facing me, settling in, but making sure to keep a respectful distance, and not be too crazy and pushy.
There was a couple sitting across from him in a booth, a woman and man. The man made eye contact with me and gave me a look that said "Are you alright? Do you want us to intervene?" I gave him a very subtle head shake no, with a look that conveyed, "No, it's cool. I'm alright."
Trenchcoat mystery guy was actually kind of an attractive guy, tall, strong body, longish blond hair, but a bit rugged, like he'd been living on the streets, or crashing with people. What I do remember is that he said he was a musician, played the sax; said his sax had been stolen down in San Clemente when some guys jumped him; (sounds like he was homeless) He opened the now empty case, which had some photos in it. He leaned forward to hand me the photos. They were supposedly of him, on stage, playing his sax for Eric Clapton. They were definitely stage concert photos, of somebody playing, but I couldn't tell if it was really him. Hard to see. I nodded and handed them back. In SoCal, you never know. Everybody's connected to somebody in the entertainment industry.
So, we're sitting there, shooting the breeze........................when suddenly, he gazes out the window at the traffic going by outside and says, kind of wistfully and far off -- "I know you want to move to L.A., but don't. I know this area can be boring, but you don't want to move there....." He went on to try to convince me to not move to L.A.
I stared at him speechless. Within the past few days, I had been planning to move to L.A. I was totally and completely sick of boring, drab, soulless south Orange County. I wanted out, had to get up to L.A. where life promised to be better, more interesting. I had been up to L.A. about two days before, and had been looking for apartment guides and begun the inevitable process of getting myself up there.
He had no way of knowing this. I hadn't said a word about it. He had done all the talking til that point for the most part. All I did was nod.
I stammered about how right he was, I *did* want to move to L.A. This area *was* boring. Wow!!! He nodded, knowingly. He shook his head and said I shouldn't do it. This area wasn't so bad. etc. etc.
I nodded, like, "Sure...okay...." and agreed. I would not move to L.A.
He turned to me, kind of shook his head back and forth, said, "Well alright then. I gotta get going now...." And he got up, got his case, bid me a farewell, and just as suddenly as he arrived, he was heading out again. [PS EDIT: I want to make sure it's emphasized that he didn't order any food...he came into a fast food restaurant, talked to me, then left, without ordering food. hmm!)
And I stayed in Orange County.
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When I moved to Fort Lauderdale in february 2002, I was excited, but soon became overwhelmed with doubts, like, OH MY GOD!!! WHAT HAVE I DONE!!! WHAT WAS I THINKING!!! I had a motel room paid for a week, but was panicked about the job situation and just freaking out in general. I'm pretty strong emotionally, and had just driven the 4,000 miles from Portland, OR to Ft. Lauderdale by myself, with my cat in my lap, to a place I'd never been where nobody was waiting for me and where I had nothing lined up. Just....trusting it would all work out. Now, I was having second doubts and beginning to panic.
I wandered up the A1A in the morning of my second day there. The sun was out, it was hot and beautiful, green palm trees against a piercing blue sky, and white condo towers lining the ocean. I walked down the sidewalk, intensely thinking to myself that I wish I could find a local who knows the area and who can tell me where to go, give me good tips for where to go for restaurants and bars. I wanted to be a waitress or cocktail server. Quick, easy money in the heart of the tourist season. If I could land a waitressing position, I'd be set. Meanwhile, I debated just scrapping everything altogether and just moving back to California. The idea of that drive back though was so unappealing!! Over 3,000 miles!! Ahh!
I sat on the beach, thinking thinking thinking. If I stayed in Florida, Tom would come down to be with me. If I went back to California, he wouldn't be able to come see me. Going to California was not possible for him. Total dilemma.
I went back to my car, parked at the Burger King and Walgreens there at Commercial Blvd. and the A1A. I called my friend Mike in California with my cell phone about my dilemma. I didn't mention the job stuff, just about my impressions of the area and my dilemma - should I go or shouldn't I? After talking to him, I made my decision ---- I was moving back to California. Coming to Florida was an impulsive, crazy decision. A mistake, I shouldn't have come here!! I hung up the cell phone, relieved that I at least made a decision. I would finish out my week in the motel, then head back to Orange County. I hopped down from the trunk of my car where I had been sitting and talking to Mike, about to get back in my car.
A guy approached me right then, seeming to come out of nowhere from the front of my car.
"Hi there!"
"Hi..." I said, cautiously, curiously sizing him up and extending my mental feelers.
"So.......you want to be a waitress, huh?"
I just stared at him, speechless. I nodded. He had no way of knowing this. HOW DID HE KNOW THIS??
"Well here, let me tell you where to go......." he said.
And he did just that. He stood there, pointing this way and that up and down the A1A, telling me about the best restaurants and bars to check out, and who might be hiring, etc. and so on.
I just stood there, completely incredulous, soaking up what he said. I couldn't believe this. It didn't seem real. Only a half an hour before I'd intensely wished for a local who knew the area who could tell me where to go to be a waitress. And here was this guy, appearing out of nowhere, doing just that. My mental feelers told me that he was a nice guy though. He had dark hair and a moustache, seemed to be about in his 40's, skinny. Florida tan. Friendly. He told me that he'd lived there his whole life, and knew everything about the area. He handed me his business card. His name was George. I still have this card, it's in my log book of woo-woo happenings. Told me to call him if I needed any help or tips or anything about the area. Welcomed me to Florida, and wished me luck.
And, he was on his way.
And I followed his tips, wound up getting a waitressing job by the next day, and because of that, decided to stay in Florida after all. And the rest is history.
He is the reason though that the rest is history. Because I'd made up my mind to give up and go back to California. He stepped in and literally, intervened, out of nowhere.
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"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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will tell.
I just watched the same sequence of events play out in front of me, then they suddenly repeated, as if someone had pressed a "replay" button. The events I saw were a completely normal, boring street scene. Almost like the whole thing I saw was a holographic insert or a digitized street scene. The replay aspect was probable the weirdest thing I've ever scene play out in the 3-d world (and I've seen a lot of weird stuff!)
(whether the fish had been placed in the river by someone is another question - 'cause the Don is heavily polluted and i don't think it's in a state to be able to support that kind of wildlife naturally - but the fact that it showed up right then like when i was thinking about it - too cool) 
) I was in an elevator at my then temp job in Portland (OR), with a job application in hand. I was pondering whether to apply for a permanet position with that company and settle permanently in Portland, getting an apartment and all that, or to take the money I had saved, which was $3,300, and use it to move to Florida instead. It was a crossroads decision you could say, which would affect everything about my future. There was a woman and a guy in the elevator with me, and as the guy was exiting the elevator doors, a silver Cross pen came skidding across the elevator floor from the back corner and came to rest at my feet. I bent down and picked it up and looked to the back corner. It was empty. Nobody had been standing there. So where did this come from then?? It just literally came skidding at me from the corner and landed exactly at my feet. The other woman in the elevator even commented that "It's the pen from nowhere!" She actually seemed pretty freaked out by it and had a strange frowny look for the rest of the elevator ride. So it was an artificial synch in the sense that it seemed to be trying to reinforce the idea of filling out the application with that pen, thus staying in Portland. Using reverse logic and understanding false synchronicities, I concluded it meant "Leave Portland, and move to Florida!" Which I did. And the rest is history. 
