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NARRATIVES: ACCOUNTS AND PREDICTIONS
Prediction of 2000 Election and 9/11 October 2007 Prediction of Benazir Bhutto Chapter 4 White Plains, New York was this poor soul's last stop. He had an angel’s name, but this was no angel. And while he lived, he was known as Michael. His last name is unimportant. His journey in life was to come to an end with his last days as a vagrant. How he started his life in this world is anyone’s guess, but how it ended, became my business. As with life, there are ironies that are never justified. Michael would receive more attention is his time here, with his death, than he ever would have, in life. Michael was brought into the city of White Plains to his death by the will of his killer. It would be the Mayor and the city police department that would pull me in to seek out both. By the grace of my "sixth sense", an ability I have had since childhood, it was the hope of the police department, that I would be their, and Michael’s "eyewitness" to what had happened to him, and then, his vindicator. He was a victim, because of his own lack of care. His naiveté, was the murderers entryway. As his last hours wound down before becoming a homicide victim, Michael, would have never imagined that in another year and a half, a psychic would come to know him and the sequence of events, that would lead up to what would be his last agonizing moments of life leading to his death. All for the purpose of assisting the Homicide Department toward solving his death, and their cold file case. There, in the city, off Mamaroneck Avenue, on a hillside across from a supermarket, he would be found lying motionless, as I would walk toward him in a visual seasons later, and lay down in his exact spot, depicting his body position and all of the items strewn all around him, to the stunned police officers standing over me. A back pack, a leather jacket, a liquor bottle, and the officers shocked pale faces looking down upon me as I lay in the same position Michael depicted when his body released all life within him, the way the police first saw him, their expressions told me I was precisely correct. And the sense and smell of energy left there, was a sorrowful longing in the emotions for a resolve for the balanced scales that had not yet, taken place for Michael. But before you hear the rest of the story, you need to understand how this can happen, a psychic and crimes, seeing scenes, numbers, and even receiving smells, and why I can and will do this gruesome and grueling work. And I’m not just discussing the homicides! Sometimes, it’s just dealing with people and issues. So let me explain the how and maybe the why, of what has led me into this "business" of case crimes in the first place. One of the why’s, is because I am told I am the only one who can do this, in the way that I do, receiving, perceiving information that cannot be collected otherwise. An area I no longer call dwelling in the impossible universe, as new physics has explained much of what I do, is theoretically possible in terms of quantum and the unified field theory and general relativity. T.S. Eliot prevailed in truth when he noted "Human kind cannot bear very much reality." (Four Quartets, Burnt Norton 1935) My reality, is telling people their own, so that they can bear it and deal with it. But the other work, is dealing with things and information, not known, or yet found. Usually of interest to aid one problem or another. I am told, I am in a percentile of rare if not extraordinary (not normal) abilities that are extra sensitivities, for perceiving what is impossible to see or know. There are exceptions, as I am not all knowing all seeing. If I were, I would be up their directing this play. Trust me, it would be all a very different outcome for many. The future, or something like it (information that exists elsewhere, found later) is something most can’t see. And people all tell me, I do know it. I am a psychic, and I work as a psychic consultant. My clients vary in every way shape and form that you could think of, and what you could not—from veterinarians and psychiatrists, to physics researchers, crime investigators to Houdini society examiners, documented case haunting "clients" to brokerage firms on Wall Street. Other clients, well let’s just say, they are classified. What I do from my area, is not so strange. Think about it. Whether it is for research, or crimes. Or just simple life turns. It is another indicator in which people find a need for answers or for a resolve. We go to the weather reports to listen to a meteorologist, make our weeks plans better. We seek out financial "experts" for future benefits, we seek our predictors, of all types. We need a better plan, or just the information itself. We change and events change, lives change. We are all taking risks. We want to take less risks, so we seek out someone who has an advantage for less risk taking. I happen to tell people literally, exactly where they will be, within a framework of time. I knew my own law case that way, with my attorney saying he wished he could do all of his law cases that way, knowing each step of the way what would occur. My own case for divorce was probably one for the books in "bizarre," but I knew what would happen each way, and when, with twists and turns that seemed impossible in all probabilities, to yet happen. And I did know as some people ask me, didn’t you know you would divorce? Even thought I knew there would be this chaos between us, I was still impelled to go on this road. I always believe, that certain things, are meant to be for what you learn from them. Horrible things, have their merit for experience, and wisdom with grades likes levels in school that are gained. I call them stripes on our arm that are won through life, later to be used for something important. In my case, it did prove to move me into other perspectives of understanding, I would never have had for other cases. Even the most remote things I have seen, even for myself, where many things I see, become facts with time, after life happens. I am told some sort of "fact," that a psychic cannot see for oneself, yet I have done so since childhood. My honorable attorney for my own divorce, a compassionate man with a sense of justice, yes, and how odd that is, he still remains a man true to his sense of justice to first, and utmost, make things right. I know, I know—he is an attorney! He has said, when he retires, he will reopen a case of an innocent man in jail. He had asked for my help when he does. And with earnest hope, this will happen. I am fortunate, these elements do come my way. It engraves a feeling of unbalances tipped back the other way. Injustices and egregious acts, cannot be undone, but they can be resolved, in a different way in time, and space. A balancing of scales if you will. Most professions, use some sort of a tool or instrument. I am yet another, used to perhaps raise different options, for a case remaining unsolved. Appearing to be no limit to the types of crimes people committ, there is a undeniable unique quality strictly human. Rage, violence, murder, mayhem. On to a subsequent supposition already noted within research, and "Neuroscience 101." The grim reality within the human model, specifically the male species, is that because of higher testosterone levels, combined with a distinction of some brains, producing a lower serotonin production, for reasons of either nature, in some cases also with nurture, has proven to make a combined "cocktail." An endless predisposition to violence is the result, a condition that cannot be eliminated with drugs or therapy. This is the understanding that has resolved, for the creation of what is a psychopath and or sociopathic monster. Devoid of emotions, they only show apparent rage. They are never happy, and their needs, are never fulfilled. They learn early on, some since crib days, to mimic emotions when necessary to blend in to society, so that they don’t stand out, they will mimic kind deeds, for purposes of what they must fulfill, for their own agenda. Again, needs met. Even apparent in youthful beginnings, animals are chosen, to be the first experimental tortures. Humankind, appears, not to be kind. Disturbing, but true. We are the only species, with a propensity toward cruelty and violence, and without contradiction, it spawns the sociopath more often than people care to know. Is it a conjecture, to assume that we are bent toward destroying ourselves? IT is in the brain,and all that happens there. At birth, or afterwards. The human brain houses the organ area known as the amygdala, a brain structure that governs emotions, delivered for processing to action by the frontal cortex. That processing link has been found to be the differential switching that alters between a woman’s brain and their tough guy counterparts. Women’s brains have a significantly higher volume of orbital frontal cortex in proportion to amygdala volume than the brains of the men. Meaning, for the males, this is a physiological problem...an inability to deal with emotions without aggression, and a predisposition to violence. All about the size of the organ fellas, this time, the women win out for being larger. The female brain chooses, to avoid violence as a first choice, because of the larger amagdala, an ability to mentally problem solve a different way. Is this the simple and apparent reason, for out past and present consistency of planetary chaos? Our complex questions, always have had the simplist answers. Even Einstein said so. We do have a long way to go for changes, the brain, must appear to be the first to change. Jonas Salk agreed. This is why, the business of crime, will be pretty consistent. This also, comprises the bulk of my cases. Emotional upsets, are my work. My work deals with human frailties and failures, even the paranormal. Even though it is normal, and part of our astounding universe of what exists and is already known and understood in science, made sensible by mathematics and physics. Within that area, where dimensional physics are researched, ghosts and hauntings occur, an area also better understood where energy transmutations and manifestations coexist within our dimension, and others around ours. The new "M" theory (Membrane), are all the sciences of discoveries giving new answers to our own big bang problem solving. They that much better, give rational understanding to the physics of energies and other PK realizations, and how a psychic can obtain time and space information when not apparent or even in the present. As a child, my world was the real "Sixth Sense" movie. I was not "allowed" to sleep until I finally responded to what coexisted in such dimensions, around us. Or at least, in my room! They seemed to know, I could hear and see them. They seemed to know, to persist to disturb me, until I succumbed to finally "listen". I heard and understood the problem. It was then I understood. I learned to assist, by "taking them" to the light. I knew this place because I had seen it once, as a child. Anyway, that was the beginning of some sleep, but also a different beginning for me for all of the endeavors, yet to be, and a true understanding that life is energy, frequency and vibration, and all of this, does not die. As a small girl, I drowned, and died. There on the beach in Maine, I came back to a breath, by first experiencing an immeasurable pain in my chest, coughing up and out the water that had taken into my lungs gasping involuntarily, for the last try at air underwater. I had been resuscitated after I had been rescued from an undertow that took me out far from the beach. I could no longer tread water, and began to drown, when my adrenaline exhausted my body, I heard information to "Just let go—you will be alright," I listened, more upon this insistent assuring message, as struggling had brought me to a complete exhaustion of oxygen to my muscles from panic. I let go with a peace, dropping to the bottom, my little legs felt the soft seaweed below and then a knowing was present. An awareness of others around me, in some way, corralling around me, I was held there until I was brought back. Inspiring, yet startling, because I did see that no one was in the water, nor coming to get to me. To this day, I do not know how the young lifeguard found me. He had to have had been led there by something, and someone. Again, I understood, my watchers were there for me. What some people, call guides, or angels. They are energies, that have been around me, for a long time. When I was little, even before nursery school, my mother was the culprit that precipitated this "sight and vision" to flow. She noted what I said, and then she would find it would happen. She would acknowledge it to me afterwards, that I had "seen" this before it happened. Whether it was my Aunt Nina that we would no longer drive to see in the city on Sundays any more, within just weeks, it became true, and within months, she would pass. My beloved nanny, Mrs. Rice that had taken care of me as a toddler, indications from her body made me know what I felt would happen. In sobbing screams I let my mother know, she would not come back to us. Her assurances were for naught. Indeed that was the last Friday we saw her. She very quickly, shocked everyone, by passing away from cancer that season. My mother often, saw that I knew things, no one else could or did know. Since my mother questioned me after every test we had for the alphabet or simple math, my expectation of her knowing all of the answers to the alphabet, or number plays, made me assume these other questions she had for me, were also answers she knew. "Don’t you know too?" She told me no, I was the only one, and after many more visionary experiences came true she was certain that I "could see." Her brother who was thought dead, was not only alive, but would come home to see his mother, my grandmother, still living in southern Russia. I resolved this for her three years before it happened. She was instrumental in her notation and acknowledgment of these facts to me afterwards, and I strongly believe it was also a facilitation of these early beginnings I was predisposed to have, that helped make them stronger. She did, fan those early embers. She knew, and it was a Russian belief system of the paranormal, that some people can have a different sensitivity and brain function that makes this happen. There is an understanding, by some , still it is a theory, that there is a genetic predisposition to the gift of insight. Some physicists and parapsychologists agree. Dr. Alex Imich, was one such scientist and researcher, that had carried on telekinetic tests not just with me. He feels genes, have a lot to do with psychic phenomena, and telekinetic (movement of mind over matter) traits. He had felt, I was a "strong psychic," especially with telekinetic traits, and the tests carried on for more than six months, made him agree with this assessment. I was flattered, but in our reality, truthfully, I thought, what would I do with such an ability. Perhaps I could "train" and get good at moving the marble on the roulette wheel. Or train so well, I could manifest spilling a drink on someone, like in "Bewitched!" Again, a silly cartoon skit, could not be anyone's bizarre joke for reality. Yet, it did appear to be so, sometimes, quantum mechanics even shows that there appears to be no logic, that the universe, is a very, bizarre place, where many magical things can happen. Alice in Wonderland anyone? True to the form of theoretical physics, anything can happen, and sometimes does. IT is just science, that later sees this. The camera operator, had mentioned that the photographing itself had also, become another unintentional part of the experiment. A perfectly operational working camera photographing the event, kept shutting down without being touched. Imich’s own computer crashed after we argued (where grant money was coming from) just a few feet away from it. He left me a message begging me "You crashed the computer, it was psychic energy, and only psychic energy could restore it," he said; "The the shop said the crash and loss was not possible, it could not crash all by itself!" The next day, while the computer was still at the shop, miles away, I called Dr. Imich to call the shop to turn it on. He argued with me, I told him to do it, and it would be on. Minutes later, he called him back, and then he called me, and said that it was on, and that, again they said, that was impossible. With no damage to it, the computer's files where whole. Animals, have extra sensory perceptions. It is not radical but it is certainly, special. They migrate, find their "home" base without prior knowledge and even many stories of animals, when people move and leave them behind, if there is a special love bond, they will transcend all impossible obstacles, risking their lives, to find their beloved human companions. Not even hurricanes and earthquakes are missed by them. Marine mammals move away before a hurricane comes. They "hear" and "feel" frequencies in waves, which are of course in physics, are also movement in vibrations. The "change" in atmosphere, is what they are sensitive to. But they also communicate with key vibrations, and hear phenomena and vibrations we cannot. They are the perfect word, sensitive. Now look deeper, and smaller. Look into particle physics. If a photon can communicate to another photon when they are deliberately split in an experiment, to come out to the end of a maze that has been changed with each retest, it is proof, that something quite magical is happening. These particles, cut from each other, deliberately separated, are communicating on a sub atomic level to meet together, at the end of the maze. This test, was repeated until it was doubtless, that some sort of ESP communication does exist, even on a sub atomic particle level! How fabulous the universe is. Now that, is part of quantum science. In 1993, when I began my work with some physics researchers and parapsychologists gaining credit within psi and alternating field research and varying energy physics. At the same time, I had my start with police work, with many people, one such, had been recommended via "Unsolved Mysteries". I also, came to meet Ed Miller, the anchor, and his wife, later. The rest of my work, was by word of mouth. I met the Captain of Homicide in 1993, when he was Chief of Traffic in the Police Department. My meeting, was to help a friend over what he felt was a wrongful traffic ticket. It was a special needs bus that he had been driving at the time, for the handicapped that had no other transportation. At the time, I thought this was very bold of me, yet I felt impelled to do this for him. Nothing happens by coincidence, nor by accident. I just knew, I needed to follow my feeling to pursue this for him. Something in the Chief's voice, I wasn’t sure why, made me realize, there was some reason. As always I am told that what I knew, for me, felt so normal, that there was something important later that was to follow. When I arrived at the Chief's section, I let my sense lead me to his dark corner office, he was quiet and listening to someone on the phone, as he waved me in. I did not know that I wasn’t supposed to be there, he waived me on, as though he expected me. I sat down in a large, hard arm chair that sat in front of his huge desk. He was still on the phone. Looking a bit uncomfortable, he looked at me, then said he had to go, someone had just come in. There was no conversation from his end, but what I had just heard. I gave him my hand, and introduced myself. I told him I knew he was talking with someone named Susan. He looked at me and said "How did you know that—I never said her name." I said, "I just knew." He looked at me. "Just as I know, that you will date her, and the boys will like her." He twisted in his chair, then shifted, and added, very softly, that he might want to speak to me sometime about all of that. I guess, in a sense, that formed what was yet to be. It wouldn’t be for another three years, until 1995, that I would be asked to help on a homicide case. Captian P.V. would be in charge of the Homicide Division, in a Westchester county, New York Police Department. I was told, it was a cold file case. I was also told, that the Mayor at that time, gave the green light. On the phone with Captain P.V., he asked me if I could help him on this, and another cold file case that happened almost two years prior. "We are frustrated, and have no leads, and no witnesses." "I would like to see these cases, go somewhere," his emotion, was telling in his voice - he sounded spent. "I think the case you are talking about, His name—is Michael isn’t it? "I didn’t give his name," Captain P.V. said. I kept on—"His body was on a hillside, beneath an apartment building, and across the street from a supermarket." P.V. remained silent. "The killer randomly drove south bound on the Bronx River Parkway just north of the Scarsdale exit, and saw the victim. He stopped to pick him up, then proceeded to White Plains, across from the supermarket there on Mamaroneck Avenue." "There is another case, he said, another victim. "Yes, I said, a black female, another crime, a black male killer." "Her body is dressed in a dowdy dress and an apron, laying in a pool of her own blood, in the kitchen steps away from a counter." He added, that was correct, almost irritatingly, mundanely. "Back to the other case, the perpetrator is named Ed something?" The short pause followed with a timely contented laugh, he said "Yes—His name is Edmond." "We believe, he is the offender and did the killing. We have no proof." P.V. again, became quiet, I then said "the victim is Michael." "Yes!" Then he added, "that’s really good!" With good cheer, he heartily said "You’re better than Dorothy Allison"! P.V. already knew Allison’s work. I knew her reputation with the police. She had worked many cases with law enforcement specifically in cases that involve children". She was no longer doing them. Many departments, have kindly awarded her with plaques for her help. I’ve never made distinctions on alienating any cases, or whether it is a homicide, or an abduction. And they don’t give out plaques any longer. They will not discuss it if there is a civilian questioning. I know, I’ve given up a lot of programming attempts because they become shy when it comes to media attention about it. Where I had the Captain was when I defined more about Edmond and more on the victim Michael. I told him that I knew that Michael, was a vagrant, who was picked up by Edmond, who drove a burgundy car. I was still on the phone with Captain P.V. He seemed impressed, and asked "Would you be alright to go further and be on location with some officers? We would probably start and meet at the station, and go from there in police cars." I was not reluctant, and said I could, but we would have to leave that location at 4pm or before, as a blizzard would begin on that day he would choose, so we needed enough time to be out of there by 4, as I would not want to be outside during the storm if we could avoid doing so. Some weeks went by, it was November now, and I received that call, and the day was set. I was driven close by, and the rest, was a pretty good stroll. Walking away from the four police cars that had all met us there, I was asked by one officer, if I needed to be led. "No problem, you can follow me." They let me push on ahead, and they followed the trail I created. I was on a heading, and followed Michael’s trail without assistance or direction given. They continued to follow me, quietly walking behind me. As though I was following a "hot scent" leaving all the cars behind us, I walked briskly on. I came upon a field, crossed that, then a parking area, crossed that, then another field and up a hillside. Just minutes later, I came to rest on what I call the "hot spot" where something is, in this case, where the body was originally found. Picking up Michael’s "signal energy", I walked over it stood briefly over it, then dropped to the ground, the same ground the killer, had led Michael to. They had a large scuffle, he did not want to do what Edmond wanted, the struggle escalated. Articles were spilled all around them. This was where Michael’s body came down and dropped, lethally cut, and suffocating with blood filling his lungs, dying. I said nothing. Still laying down, I had laid down, and placed my body in the same pattern I felt, my limbs and legs in the same way Michael's body was positioned, and then later found. Michael & I were one, as I felt through Michael, he looked up at the sky, and as I looked up, my eyes in the present time, noted five huge officers standing over me. They were big people anyway, but now they seemed as big as Elm trees! The looks on their faces told me I had it exactly right. I ignored their shocked expressions, and looked away as Michael had, turning his head in his last moments alive, I was looking through Michael’s eyes again, as he helplessly knew he was dying, the last images, seeing Edmond., walking away, to got into his burgundy car that was parked at the meter. With no emotion, he got into is vehicle, and started it, leaving Michael, and the scene of his death. He headed toward Mamaroneck Avenue, away from the metered spots we were also parked in. Edmonds scent still in my nostrils, I smelled the putrid intensity of a smell that was cutting my nose with the fumes. My mind was still locked with Michael’s, as we both watched the killer move behind and around to the drivers side, he was a distance away from where I was, yet I could still see the license plate number as he got into the car, as though it was there in present time. I could also see, within the car trunk, I knew exactly what was inside of it. Through Michael's eyes, I watched him, as he backed up and drove away. To read the rest of Chapter 4 and the book, look for the finished publication of "The Source" coming soon!
Grave's End Prediction of 2000 Election and 9/11 Prediction of the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami 2005 Predictions Prediction of the Downing of Flight 800 World News Warnings
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