theworldwelivein:Pyramid Giza 018 (via Kaki Bakar) Photograph by: Kucing Kemek
I felt a strong compulsion to go over to the window and look up—and was sent into a strange revery by what I (un)saw: ships so huge they are more presence than technology, made up of light and shadow and geometry—forming ever morphing patterns of skulls and faces.
It wasn’t about whether they were “real” or not. They were speaking a psychic language that went beyond such distinctions.
Here deep in Utah, on a ranch on a mountain with no humans for miles, I have a profound sense of being watched—of being zoomed in and out upon, especially at night. On the evening I arrived, I watched the star Sirius move slowly over the top of a ridge blackened into silhouette against the brilliantly twinkling switchboard of space…it morphed into a triangle shape, glowing, and shooting occasional green laser beams—as wide as the whole horizon. They lit up the sky like prolonged photo flashes.
The man who is one half of the couple who owns and runs the ranch, came by and put his arm around my shoulders and pointed up in the direction of my gaze.
“Look at Sirius out there,” he said, his voice gravelly from thousands of cigarettes. He was wearing a handmade, three-quarter length coat made of patchwork pieces of red and white suede with intricate threaded patterns forming secret code all across the arms and back.
“For weeks it’s been messin with me, showin up and just hanging out like that. Look…” he said, “See it changing shape?”
I nodded, speechless, and glanced at his profile—his left eye sparkling with starlight like a diamond in a pit. I looked back up at Sirius and noticed it had stopped moving.
“It’s watchin us,” he said, laughing good naturedly. Then, after a few minutes of silence in which the object seemed to pulse and spin he added,
“We’re being downloaded. Right now…can you feel it?”
