I WAS SOMEWHAT TAKEN BACK BY THE NOTE a reader left me in response to some of my recently written essays on the exploration of space, both inner and outer, and other religious trips through the use of DMT. As you may or may not know, the subject of my next Flat Earth book primarily focuses on the esoteric schools of learning—a tradition which I believe began with the Serpent in the garden. Mainly, I want to explore how western civilization as we know it, including the comforts and realities which Christianity has adopted as its own—such as the globe and everything that can be found in and as part of the globe, was given life to a delusional reality through the ancient occulting Mysteries, particularly through the use of mushrooms and other psychedelics.
So, I was contacted by Phil, who let me know—with full conviction—that he met Jesus through the use of mushrooms. Or rather, Jesus confronted him, and brought a permanent end to his tripping activities. This is certainly an interesting twist to what I’ve been writing about lately, and I can’t help but think of some of the recent stories coming out of the Middle-East, specifically some Muslims who claim to have died, to have met Jesus at the entrance to hell, were promptly saved and brought back to a new dedicated life in Christ. I’ll let Phil tell the story.
Since I emailed you I have had a rough time, mostly old memories creeping back with the story about my visit from Jesus while doing mushrooms. Its hard to dig where old memories have been buried. Like I said, I have kept this encounter to myself pretty much since it happened. Well, mostly because who go’s around telling people they met God while tripping?
I will start by giving some background. Born 8-19 1962 in Pottsville hospital, I grew up not far away in Deer Lake Pa. It was famous for a minute because Mohammed Ali had his training camp there. As a young child I had very bad dreams. One I can’t forget was being on a string in absolute emptiness praying to God to forgive me and give me another chance. It was a distorted reality kind of dream where it felt like a fever was accompanied with the dream. Anyways, that dream go’s back as far as I can remember and I do believe it was me before birth. I struggled with what I have recently learned others suffer from as sleep paralysis and it was almost a nightly thing. Many nights I would walk out and my parents could see my eyes and know I was somewhere else emotionally and totally in a state of anxiety. I was found by fire trucks and their crew on more than one occasion because I wandered outside in my frightened state.
When I say “paralysis,” what I believe happened was that an entity would try to possess me, literally, and the fear that would accompany this was so overwhelming that I could not move my muscles at all until they backed off. The thought I would have pushed at me was just ‘give in and it will be alright.’ Even then a toddler, I knew that was bullshit. Anyways, I fought these demons almost nightly and lived in a state of anxiety so bad that as a kid I was a dare devil that had no fear of physical things or getting hurt.
I remember once my father took me into the room I shared with 4 other brothers and showed me under the bed that there was no monster. I told him I wish there was because then I would kill it; what was after me was far worse than a monster. Somewhere around 8 years old my mother (and I know this because my father and I talked about it later on) went on a psych medicine from her doctor after she saw some expert on the Merv Griffin show say how mothers needed it for stress from multiple child births. She had 6 kids in 7 years. I was #4. Anyways, she loved beer and this med mixed with beer would make her Jekyll and Hyde in 2 bottles. My father traveled with work and when he got home the arguing would start, 99% on her side. I would pray every night, ‘Please Jesus don’t let my parents get divorced.’
One night, years later as a 13 year old kid or so, I had a pin in my hand and was going to puncture my ear drums while I laid in bed and decided, No way, this is wrong. I prayed, ‘Dear God you can let them get divorced. I can’t hurt myself.’
Not 30 seconds later my father opened the door to our room and said, “Who is coming with me?”
I packed my clothes in a bag and joined 2 brothers and we left. The divorce soon followed and the family split up. My sister, the youngest, stayed with my mom. We soon ended up in Florida. My father remarried and he moved my mother a few miles away to take care of her. That was the premise, anyway.s My step-mom was a great cook at times and anything was possible with her. She was what I would now call off the hook. she inherited some money, bought a 44-foot yacht, and some local party animals left over from the sixties moved in with us and started redoing the boat that 4 of us would end up living in.
Things were crazy in those years and I retreated to my friends on the beach and would hang out and smoke pot. This is the next big miracle for me. One night I was in this car with these two guys I knew. They were bad news—thieves and just the wrong crowd , you know; the guys Pinocchio was running with. I had a half ounce of pot in my pocket and was in the back seat. There was nothing legal at all about this situation and a cop put his lights on. The car pulled over and I remember freaking out in the back seat thinking my whole life is over for hanging with these guys. I prayed very hard and said, ‘Dear God, you can stop this now, make a car squeal his tires at the cops and take off and I will never be in this situation again.’ The cop came to the door and started his procedures and I kept praying.
I swear this happened .
A car started squealing its tires and driving very recklessly and went down the road at a high speed . It came out of the parking lot we had stopped in front of. The cops left and chased that car. We drove away. Just a note, those two guys ended up getting life sentences later for robbing a house and tying up the kids to a banister while they robbed the house. The kids knew them. They were neighbors. The parents weren’t home at the time.
Here is where the mushrooms come in.
My parents had these hippies hanging around and they would smoke pot with them. Never in front of me but I knew this from one of them. Anyways, one night while fishing my father actually did smoke some while I was there and later I talked my step mom into trying mushrooms. I never had but was informed where to pick them and they were in season, so to speak. She drove me and a friend one morning to the spot (I will not elaborate so others go and do this) and we hit the jackpot. Two big paper grocery bags full to the top with mushrooms. I boiled them in a big steamer pot and drained them. What I know now, this was some very potent tea. My step-mom, myself, 3 friends, and my father tried the tea. I drank too much that I know. I do believe this was so strong and potent a whole city could have partook. Immediately things went crazy.
We lived on the boat at the time in a slip next to the Maderia Beach Bridge. I will not elaborate too much on my “TRIP,” but to say this was one big mistake. I talked my step-mom into trying this because it was natural and God made it and he doesn’t make bad things. Drugs like Cocaine and Heroin that were processed were bad for you. My father didn’t take much so he fared the best. My friends wandered off and we never did talk about that day after that. I on the other hand was in for a wild ride. At one point the food my step-mother was trying to prepare, spaghetti with meatballs and chicken, decided to crawl out of the pot and chase me across the room. I remember at one point trying to take my fathers car to go get chocolate chip ice cream. He had to unhook the batteries on the cars to be sure I stayed home this time. He had brought me home from the beach stark naked earlier. It was evening time and the sun was setting and I went to the front of the boat.
I was naked again, 16 years old, totally messed up, and the intensity was still increasing profoundly. I was going to jump off the boat and swim away. I remember thinking we don’t need clothes, everything is seen, we are Gods children etc., and everything is so phony. I started to pray and about 100 yards away on the shore, on the seawall Jesus appeared in some sort of mixing of dimensions. I could clearly see him and was in some sort of spiritual contact with him but I don’t think anyone else could see him.
I wanted to go to him but understood with words that I was in a sinful state and that was as far as I was to come. I’m not sure but I think at that point I thought I could just go to him like Peter on the fishing boat. My belief was there. Jesus did not to my memory preach or say anything to me that I can remember; it was not spoken. He stood there on the seawall in some kind of bright illumination and covered me with a love that was so powerful and so beautiful I wanted to go home with him right there and then. I was informed in the non-verbal thing we had that it was not time for me. This experience went on for about 5 minutes in my mind and the love was so powerful…so overwhelming
I remember thinking I could live for eternity in this way. I want to be in eternity in this way. My experiences with anxiety were so bad in the past that the thought of eternity was horrible. I just wanted to have never been and that would be ok, that way suffering forever would not be possible, because if hell is an anxiety attack forever nothing could be worse.
This love wiped away my anxiety. My trip ended right there and then. The effects were over. Jesus left, I’m pretty sure he told me some thing but it escapes me now. I do know doing these mushrooms was not something Jesus recommended or approved. All I can vividly remember was his eternal love that nothing anywhere, no matter what, could ever stand against it. I went below deck and began to apologize to my father and stepmother for all the things I was doing. I spilled my guts, cried, put my clothes back on, and went to bed. I woke up and my father had put a half gallon of chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer for me.
That was it for me and mushrooms. I don’t even joke about them. I don’t recommend to anyone trying to meet Jesus through this medium. It was not my plan and I thank him very much to have even acknowledged me, let alone spend 5 minutes of what we call time with me in such a sinful, shameful state. I do believe Jesus answered another one of my prayers that day because I sought him with a believing heart even if I was such a knuckle head. Not long after, I did realize that praying to Jesus stopped my bad dreams immediately, but the real shame is I have to keep learning over and over to stay under his umbrella of love or your back out in the middle of Satan’s playground.
Noel, there is so much for me to say but I don’t know where to start. Believe me, I am not looking for fame or even recognition. You are welcome to use my story and I would prefer you didn’t use my last name since I still have brothers and a sister that might not like me printing stories about my father doing mushrooms. There have been some incredible miracles in my life, including the story I told you about, donating a kidney, but I always end up back where I started, sinning again. God bless us all.
Hey saw your article on Cathy Dunson, I have been following her career for some time now. I found her on Tribulation Now years ago and get her emails almost daily. She knows of me and is welcome to this story as well. She turned me onto your blog and I was emailing her about flat earth a couple of years back.
What a circle!