I read fascinating accounts about people’s creepiest ‘Glitch in the Matrix’ moments, this morning. You can read it here.
Fascinating stories of the Real Men in Black can be found, here.
The stories reminded me of my own experience about 10 years back, while I was slaying dragons at a full-time job as an Associate Creative Manager for a popular vacation company and as a part-time Barista at Starbucks. Needless to say, I was burnt out and that fact didn’t help the arising symptoms of full-blown mania. This was shortly before I was in diagnosed with Bipolar.
What tipped me over the edge into psychosis was a string of odd encounters at both jobs, but none so powerful as the ones I experienced at the vacation company.
Our headquarters was located in a corporate campus, with two buildings: Big Apple and Little Apple. I worked in Big Apple.
I was wildly shifting through trippy states of awareness for weeks on end, so euphoric and powerful that I thought I must have died. No drugs, this was purely a natural unraveling. Think of the movie, Waking Life. Everything had profound meaning and every conversation was a philosophical mind fuck.
Every one was 3 conversations in 1.
1. was the actual conversation itself in this reality, 2. was the conversation on another plane, meaning an entirely different thing altogether but always had to do with Universal Truth while skating this razor-thin edge of reason, 3. was my interpretation of how the other in the conversation interpreted it and acting accordingly on both planes. To balance all of that influx is like balancing on a tight rope with both feet in madness/genius while your mind is trying it’s best to stay in the reality as it once was but never would be again. EVER AGAIN.
On top of that, every song played had epic timing, as if it was a constant soundtrack to a movie unfolding before my eyes and played on all of those conversations at once adding on even more meaning. Needless to say – Mind Blown.
To say that is not a gift, but a disorder, is complete and utter bullshit to me. Complete and utter bullshit. That’s a flat-out disservice to humanity in the end.
One day, I got this crazy idea that someone was coming for me … that very day. I had been having intense dreams for weeks about needing to clean up my act and prepare because I was about to meet someone I didn’t know. They were constant and prophetic in nature, so I took them very seriously. The intensity had built until I couldn’t take it any longer.
At lunch, I decided to drive home to my apartment and clean up my act. I was desperate and rushed. Wine bottles, beer cans and scraps were all trashed in huge black trash bags. I was anticipating big things and I knew in my gut that it was right around the corner. Call it intuition or clairvoyance…or what have you – I was on target.
I finished up at home, and raced back to work, parking my car between both buildings. No sooner did I get out of my car, did a man, dressed in all black (specifically a fitted black suit, with a long, skinny black tie), yell down to me from a mysterious black sedan parked at the entrance. He was standing there still and with eyes plastered on me. There was something off about him, it was almost bordering on paranormal.
It was like a scene from The Matrix or MIB, although I hadn’t watched that for years after for the first time.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at Little Apple?” he asked.
I looked around the lot for others. Empty. Confused and shocked, I motioned to my heart and yelled back from my car as I shut the door, “Me?! No, I work at Big Apple.”
“YOU. NO, aren’t you supposed to be down there?” he pressed, pointing toward the smaller building.
Again, I answered back as I began making my walk up the hill toward the entrance, “No, I’m on lunch. I work there.” I pointed to the large glass doors behind the car.
“NO, you’re supposed to be in Little Apple. Don’t you have a message waiting for you?” He was getting a bit heated by this point and I was getting concerned as I approached the car with chills running up my spine.
I mean, What. The. Fuck. The way he called out to me was chilling enough. But our loud voices also had this eerie way of echoing off the buildings in the empty parking lot.
Walking passed him quickly, I repeated, “I work right here. I’m late.”
I’ll never forget that face. Blonde, pale, and eyes burning into mine, stoically, with no emotion other than this sense of urgency.
He was now close to the back seat, door ajar, where I noticed another man in all black. The one standing outside the vehicle just stared at me and sighed very heavily, “Well, I tried.” He shook his head in disappointment and climbed into the backseat, within one fluid and calculated motion. His fellow mysterious driver was also dressed in all black, complete with sunglasses. He sat silently in the driver’s seat, catatonic and staring straight ahead. Again, no emotion whatsoever.
I hurried through the front doors into the lobby, a bit panicked. I couldn’t for the life of me believe that just happened, after all I had dreamed up only hours before. I stood in the safety of the lobby and watched the two men in their black limo drive off down the road. Never to be seen again.
I was so overwhelmed with adrenaline that I had to tell my close friend and coworker at the time. I felt like I had missed out on a big opportunity; the exact one I was waiting and preparing for. I didn’t go into detail about my delusional thoughts about someone coming for me. I had enough of a level head at that point to know to keep my mouth shut.
The FBI rented space from us for as long as I can remember, so we chalked it up to that, but I knew there was something much more to it. I never took the opportunity to find out, which I regret. It boggles my mind what the conversation between the the two men must have been like before coming and what was said after. Perhaps nothing at all. This wasn’t the first time I encountered two strange men dressed in black during what I considered a paranormal encounter, and I am not sure it’s going to be the last.
As if that weren’t strange enough, in the same week, I had another encounter with clairvoyance.
My boss had just sent me this beautiful message from TUT, Notes from the Universe. It was a short message poetically detailing what it was like to finally be HOME.
I had loved it so much, I sent it off to my best friend immediately in a hyper email and briefly described what it was like to find this elusive HOME, within. I even went into what I wanted in a future husband, marriage and my idea of HOME. I remember that clearly, I can almost see the transcript in my head. It was beautiful.
I sent off the email and go outside on the back smoking dock for a ciggie. The trash lady arrived with her elderly mother, who was blind and could barely walk. I immediately picked up their trash bags and helped them dispose of it in the dumpster
Although she was blind, the mother walked arm in arm with her daughter and looked straight at me, as they walked passed me to go inside.
The elderly mother says to me, in a prophetically creepy voice, “Tell your husband what it’s like to be HOME.”
Eyes wide, my jaw hit the floor.