One of my last diaries started with a song and this one does too. In this case, it’s the lyrics to the Simon and Garfunkel song: "Sound of Silence," which go like this:
Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains, Within the sound of silence
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The objects are pretty far away and difficult to make out, but they do not descend like planes and do not have the profile of helicopters. Too bad the witness didn’t hike into those woods. Your Out There editor certainly would have!
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When Jonathan Talat Philips experienced a devastating loss as a countercultural media activist, he unwittingly started on a mystical journey marked by underground ayahuasca ceremonies, kundalini awakenings, prankster spirit guides, extraterrestrial encounters at the Burning Man festival, and miraculous energy healings that reshaped his skeptical worldview. Along the way, he chronicled the rise of an international movement that is trailblazing visionary ways to address our current planetary crisis through raised consciousness.
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It’s really me. Nobody has hacked Unknowncountry, and I’m the only guy who can post here.
so yes, the Whitley of the Whitley Strieber Society is really me.
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