“Telepathy, of course. It’s amusing when you stop to think about it — for years people have argued about whether or not such a thing exists, folks like J.B. Rhine have busted their brains trying to create a valid testing process to isolate it, and all the time it’s been right there, lying out in the open like Mr. Poe’s Purloined Letter. All the arts depend upon telepathy to some degree, but I believe that writing offers the purest distillation.”
— Stephen King, On Writing, from the chapter, What Writing Is.
III. Anecdotes of Telepathic Transmission & Dialogue.
This incident occurred on October 6, 2007, again as I was at work in my fast food job. Eva, the girl with whom I had this experience, was a younger girl who I had first encountered on MySpace, when she began commenting on my blogs, and eventually came to know in person. On the day in question, she had come in as I was working and sat at one of the tables at the far end of the dining room, and I had gone out there to sit and speak with her, as I found her to be an interesting individual and a remarkably beautiful girl.
“As I continued to talk with Eva, though, and our conversation seemed to get more involved, there seemed to be this intoxicating wave of emotion, or something, in the air. It was as if my mind was penetrating through some kind of membrane. Eventually, I started catching definite things from her — emotions, impressions, potent vibes — just like I do from normal people only the intensity was amazing, the reception crisp and clear. It was like some psychic form of tunnel vision.
There was one point where it almost seemed that I caught a sex vibe from her, which confused me so much I had to look away for a second. She noted it, too — the fact I’d looked away — and seemed to think it was something she had said, but I just told her no, it wasn’t that, there was just too much going on at once. I wasn’t even entirely certain what I meant by that, either, but something strange and wonderful was going on. It was like I was riding the wave of some supernatural high. I had to wonder, though: was I really seeing what was there, or was I throwing that out and was it bouncing back at me like some psychic echo?
As we went on talking, the rapport seemed to get deeper and deeper and ever-more intense. I mean this in no cheesy way, either. It’s not a poetic metaphor or anything of the like. It was literally the experience of some weird, almost psychic bond. I was reading things from her ever-clearer. Just emotions. Just impressions.
At one point I’m looking at her. I don’t think we’re talking, but I’m just gazing at her for a moment, unable to help myself. It wasn’t a particularly naughty gaze, but I think to myself, about her, ”god, you’re sexy,” as I look her way.
It was just internal dialog, but it seemed clearer and louder than usual. Like subjective stereo. Like a psychic echo. Not only that, but I had the distinct impression that she had heard me. That I was in her head, or she was in mine, or we were temporarily fused in some mutual headspace. Maybe it was in her eyes, the way she lifted her head and looked at me. Perhaps it was in her facial expression, or perhaps it was just her vibe. The important thing here is that for some reason her hearing me think did not, at the moment, seem all that unusual.
So then I think, but this time intentionally to her, as a sort of experiment or test, ”You didn’t hear me, did you?” And she shakes her head, as a matter of factly, yes, up and down, up and down. And I eye her suspiciously, almost teasingly. “No you didn’t,” I think to her. She stops a second, as if hesitating, but just a second later she begins to shake her head no, side to side to side to side to side. Satisfied, I slam my hand on the table and say, with a smile — and I say it aloud this time — ”Good,” and casually get up out of the chair and make my exit passed the drink tower.
It was so natural.
Nothing from, ”you didn’t hear me, did you?” to the point that I got up seemed at all unusual or frightening. But as soon as I was halfway passed the drink tower adrenaline shot through me. I try to tell myself I didn’t remember it correctly, but it just happened. I try to tell myself that it didn’t happen, that it’s impossible that it happened, but it just happened.”
Upon arriving home, I messaged her and asked her if anything strange had occurred while we sat across from each other at that table. This was essentially a roundabout way of asking her, yet again — though this time not telepathically, but via the written (or, rather: typed) word — “You didn’t hear me, did you?” She promptly replied, “I already told you.” Subsequent interactions with her seemed to confirm that this incident did, indeed, happen as I experienced it at the time and subsequently recalled it. This was also the first of a few telepathic experiences I had with the girl (though the rest of the experiences fall outside linguistic telepathy), and I’ve often wondered if this might have been spawned by some odd, psychological or energetic similarity that she and I shared. In any case, this particular experience led to my more confident, though still wary, interpretations regarding my subsequent experiences in telepathic reception in this area with Kami and Jamilia.
As profound as my experiences in telepathically sending and receiving inner speech with fellow humans undoubtedly were, mostly due to the fact that they occured in the context of mundane daily life as opposed to my alien encounters, my recollections of enduring telepathic dialogues utilizing inner speech while interacting with Nimi in my youth put all of these personal experiences to shame. Internet research has revealed that such communication has been experienced by others, however, and not only in the context of alien encounters. To the contrary, it’s apparently been human to human.
One such experience was offered by Joni, who posted on November 27, 2018:
“As a young adult, I moved away from my family for several years. Upon my return, I was introduced to a family friend Chance. My cousin and Chance were just carrying on a normal conversation when out of the blue I heard his voice in my head. After the initial shock, I looked puzzled at him and that’s when I realized not only could I [hear him, but] speak to him too. But we were clearly having a private conversation we could both hear and my cousin could not. We have been together for 14 years now. We have never again spoken to each other in our minds. However, one of my most treasured things about my husband is [that] when I have a song stuck in my head, A song I can hear but can’t remember a single word to or can’t even hum a sound I ask him and he is always correct.”
Though I’ve provided above two responses to the post on the aforementioned Interfaith forum, I’ve saved the well-articulated experience provided by the original poster, a user by the name of taijasi, for the very last, as it reminds me in some respects of my incident with Eva. In any case, it is an interesting tale:
“The best, most simple and direct example of one form of telepathy that I have experienced is something that occurred with a good friend of mine about 22 years ago. The two of us were not far from my parents’ house, out for a drive in a borrowed BMW (belonging to my friend’s father), and I was practicing driving. We were in a neighborhood that was under construction, in the early evening after all the workers had gone home, so the place was deserted and offered the perfect opportunity.
It was summer, so we had plenty of daylight, and everything went well. BMWs handle exceptionally well I discovered, though I haven’t had a chance to drive one since. Anyway, evening arrived, it got dark, and my friend and I were sitting motionless, talking for a few minutes before I had to go back home. A lull in the conversation crept up, and no one said a word. It was only natural that a brief pause be left at that juncture, so it was not unusual or awkward, but what happened next was slightly unusual – at least in my book.
The two of us continued our exchange, sharing several sentences with each other, back and forth … and THEN we realized, both pretty much simultaneously as I recall – that neither one of us had spoken since the silence.
We had continued the conversation, but no one had spoken. It was verbal, I did not see or visualize a thing. But the words, the sentences, and the meaning were exchanged nonetheless.
This was, as I say, awkward to say the least. In fact, it almost made me giddy in a sort of sense, but I was somewhat contained once those several sentences were exchanged in silence … because I was not 100% sure we were – “on the same page.” I somehow knew that what I thought had just occurred had just occurred, but I was not certain. I had a flicker of doubt, and perhaps only minor frustration that if I spoke, my friend might feel too awkward or weirded out … and not confirm it. Ah, I should have known him better!
I guess I, too, had a slight hesitation, but I broke the thin layer of ice. It might have thickened, had we hesitated much longer, but within a few moments we had both immediately verified, and certainly confirmed to each other’s satisfaction, what had just occurred (if not quite why or how). It only took a few moments to say, Did that just happen? – and ask, Did you say x? followed by, Uh-huh, and then you said y, and then you asked z, right? Etc.
This left no room for question, no room for doubt, no possibility that either of us – let alone both – had simply imagined it. We knew what was up, and it probably meant – assuming that neither of us forgets it – that indeed, both of our lives had been changed, forever. Never again could either of us, in our right, rational mind, doubt this verified possibility. So, although I haven’t spoken to this friend in years … it doesn’t change things in the least. I’m hoping if I ever get a chance to chat with him again in the flesh, he’d remember and acknowledge this event, as was certainly still the case last time we spoke, some 6 or 7 years ago.
So you see, although this was a very personal experience and exchange, it was all I needed, at 15 or 16 years of age, to know for the rest of my life – that telepathy most certainly exists … although I have since (and even prior) experienced many other types of non-verbal exchanges, and read enough about the subject to know that my experiences only cover a small part of the possible spectrum.”
Others have reported this experience with seeming fellow humans as well. In a post from May 10, 2014, Jan shared the following experience on a website:
“I had an interesting spontaneous telepathic experience at a very crowded goth bar in Cape Town 3 years ago. Upon entering the very crowded bar I was welcomed telepathically by another person standing on the far end of the room – this was completely unexpected as he knew my name and seemed to know everything about me. The contact was very intense and I naturally I was freaked out when greeted on a first name basis without talking to each across a crowded room to a total stranger. I am now open to this sort of thing. From your article I understand most telepathic messaging is between close family and friends which does not apply in this case.”
It would have been interesting if Jan would have provided suggestions on any former telepathic experiences she might have had and more detail regarding this particular experience. Did she merely hear the other person, or was she able to respond and hold a dialogue?
For a long time, I hypothesized that linguistic telepathy was dependent upon close proximity to the individual in question, as that appeared to be the case in the analysis of abduction experiences offered by David Jacobs, my own experiences, and many of the experiences of others that I later found. In the course of writing this, however, I happened upon at least two reports of this kind of telepathy, both apparently human-to-human, that allegedly occurred regardless of distance.
On the Interfaith forum in a thread entitled, “Telepathy – Experiences and Insights,” Brian 815 responded with his own unnerving experience. During his late teens and early twenties, a period in which he confesses he was both drinking heavily and smoking copious amounts of marajuana, he used to have a crush on a girl he worked with who happened to engage in similar practices. Given that he was rather shy and a bit younger, they never really hung out, but there was something enchanting about her and he would often have her in his thoughts. At some point this scaled up in intensity, as he began seeing an image of her in his mind quite frequently, which he explained as being somewhat akin to the afterimage one experiences following staring at a bright light. Sometime thereafter he began to communicate with her in his mind, presumably via the aforementioned afterimage. Whenever he was stoned, and for weeks thereafter, it seemed to intensify. Distance made no difference and it would occur day and night, even when he was dreaming, though he stressed it was never a full-blown, complex dialogue. Instead, it seemed to be based on emotions, occasionally complex themselves, accompanied by an inner voice that expressed itself in “basic sentences or sentence fragments.”
He explained that alongside being rather quiet among people, his inner life was also rather quiet with respect to inner thought, whereas this girl, he quickly came to realize, was more of a chatterbox, and that distinction reinforced his suspicions that the experience was real. In the context of traditional psychology, then, he was someone who utilized symbolic inner speech at best occasionally, whereas with her, it appeared to be a default.
However swayed into believing this telepathic experience was what it seemed, he had remaining skepticism, however, and so decided to attempt a test one day while he was at work with her. He asked her, in his mind, to give him a very specific cue (though he failed to explain the nature of this cue) that would either verify or falsify his suspicions, though part of the deal they made telepathically was that they would not openly discuss it. Within a few minutes they were around each other and she gave him that cue. Faced with apparent confirmation, he said it felt as if time itself was slowing down.
Later, he also added that while it typically only happened with the girl in question, and certainly most intensely in that respect, that it would also “happen with other people in passing or in my general point of view.”
“For years,” he wrote, “and in part to this day I have kept this to myself and have tried to convince myself it was a dream and I was stoned, but you can only hide from yourself for so long. It was a nightmare.” He went on to explain how he eventually became depressed and suicidal, presumably as a direct result of this enduring experience. He went on to see a psychologist and a psychiatrist who considered this experience delusional, and, considering that the source of the experience might constitute something supernatural rather than merely paranormal, he even consulted a priest.
In the end, he added:
“I don’t work with this person anymore, but it’s weird I still feel like her presence is watching me kinda like living with a conjoined twin or something. This person is not very [pleasant,] either. I would find out she was way more emotionally messed up than I could ever imagine and this would always come through telepathically. The intensity is much weaker now after years w/o drugs. It was so bad at one point I couldn’t comprehend conversations with people in my life very well because my attention was so intensely divided with this other world in my mind and the real one.”
It is indeed curious to me that like most of the accounts I came across, this one also involved drugs — though in this case not the emotions elicited when jonesing for drugs, but when actively using the substances in question. Yet again, however, I feel led to the conclusion that drugs do not seem to be necessary, but rather only serve to reliably elicit an emotional component that seems to be conducive to the experience. This is suggested, at the very least, by means of another shared experience, one similar to that of Brian 815’s, but not involving any mentioned drug use. Despite this, the story seemed to follow the same, general pattern. This anecdote was offered by a poster that goes by the name of Wren on a website on May 14, 2015:
“I’m hoping you can help me understand what is happening between a friend and I. We’re sort of dating, sort of not. There has always been very strong chemistry between us, not sexual especially, we are just very drawn to one another. Our lives are very different and a full blown relationship would be a disaster. We have maintained a mostly platonic friendship. We speak on the phone every day though [we] don’t see each other often. Our “real” conversations are superficial and general chat, but I have had full blown conversations with him in my head, it started just at bed time and now occasionally happens during the day. It made me feel like I was crazy, schizophrenic or obsessed with him. I didn’t tell a soul. But often [these] conversations were about how crazy it was we were even having these conversations and in such a conversation we decided to test it out, he asked what it was I liked about him – I answered and we agreed he would ask me again next time we saw one another. It was a couple of weeks later that during a moment alone together he asked me the very same question and I gave him the very same answer. We were both completely freaked out, though relieved we aren’t crazy and it feels really magical and special. Can you explain this? Many of the circumstances described in this post appear to be one offs, we can communicate in this way at will, though we both have to be thinking of one another at the same time. Sometimes we are able to nudge the other into conversation though.”
While Wren’s experience with her friend did not come about through drug use, at least from her side it seemed to begin at bedtime — presumably in the midst of hypnagogia; that “twilight” or “threshold” state of consciousness that resides on the bridge between waking and sleeping, and so in the twilight betwixt what we might call the conscious and unconscious sectors of mind. One can’t help but speculate that this natural, altered state of consciousness and the previous drug-related or drug-induced altered states may provide a similar bridge between individual minds — particularly if there is, in addition, an emotional bond between them — that allows for such telepathic phenomena to occur, at least far more easily than would be the case otherwise.
Perhaps it is the lack of a deep, emotional bond between strangers that necessitates close proximity in order for this form of telepathy to occur in such cases. This suggestion seems to be reinforced by second-hand tales offered to me by a former coworker that I will refer to as Jay.
Jay was the detail maintenance man at the store, a job which I eventually acquired as well. He always came across as happy and naive, and though he wasn’t what one would typically define as intelligent, there was a certain strategic ingeniousness to him that remains difficult for me to define. For a long time, I had dubbed him an expert manipulator, though I think that stemmed from my jealousy over the things he got away with at work and in the greater universe at large. Undeniably, the guy had a certain charm, an almost irritating likability, and he managed to get by in life largely through use of it. He was always juggling multiple women in his life, never short on pussy, and once confessed to me that he had even fooled around with the woman who was the store manager at the time, which explained to me how he got away with keeping his job despite constantly breaking the rules and, often enough, not doing his job at all — and taking credit for things I had done, as a matter of fact. It also explained why, after quitting or getting fired on multiple occasions, she always hired him back, either as a crewperson that worked in the kitchen or as a detail maintenance man yet again. Despite how friendly he always was to me, and to everyone, I was always wary of him, determined not to get caught in his web, and though I think I put up a good fight, the sly motherfucker finally won me over, however begrudgingly I came to accept the fact that I liked him.
While it wasn’t the first step in the process, nor the last, there was an evening we shared that I felt brought me closer to him, that helped me achieve a leap in understanding with respect to him. Though I still held onto my suspicions regarding him, I was ultimately brought to the conclusion that, if nothing else, this guy was interesting and well worth getting to know far better than I previously than I had managed to.
After searching in my journals rather recently, I discovered that this evening occurred near the end of March, 2006, when he and I were tasked with working alone overnight in the store, engaging in deep cleaning for a coming inspection to be conducted by the corporate goons. I learned two things during the evening that I was isolated with him in that store. First, while it took some time for it to happen, when the guy actually did his job, he did it well. Second — which struck me at a far greater depth — was that this guy, aside from being frustratingly likeable, was incredibly interesting as well, at least when you managed to penetrate the surface. And while by no means did it start and end there, the fact that during that evening he told me various stories regarding his childhood was certainly a vital ingredient.
His childhood was replete with seemingly paranormal circumstances, most of which I might have doubted to a far greater degree if I had the slightest suspicion he had done both considerable research on the topic in general and the specific things he was expressing to me in the context of the tales. I’m still convinced this was not the case. He was, in my opinion, being entirely honest with me, spilling things to me he had perhaps not told anyone else before, not only because people in general, even total strangers, for whatever reason have the tendency to do this with respect to me, but because from the moment he started expressing such things he knew I was interested, he knew that he had my complete attention, and I could tell that he knew.
A lot of what he told me was of deep interest to me. I found it absolutely fascinating. The kicker, however, and the whole point of me sharing this all with you, came towards the end of our shift, I think, or at the very least that was the point at which I got him to elaborate.
The story was about his mother, who he had previously referred to as “psychotic” and had later told me had been diagnosed with both bipolar disorder and schizophrenia. She had been subsequently put on an antipsychotic called Zyprexa, which was also the pharmaceutical I had been put on after my car accident during summer school after my senior year. He had opened the story with a question, as I remember it, and though I didn’t quote it in my journal in any precise way, I recall it as him asking me, “Have you ever heard about someone speaking without moving their lips?”
I felt, at the very least, that I immediately knew what he meant, and that he was expressing it the best as he could given that he didn’t know the term designated for the general experience, which was, of course, telepathy. Aside from his ignorance of the word despite the fact that he had managed to provide a pretty effective way of explaining it — after, or so I remember it, I ensured he didn’t mean to suggest ventriloquism — there was the fact that he asked this in such a way that conveyed to me he didn’t find it anywhere nearly as bizarre as the mainstream, scientific community would. Instead, he said it in such a way that suggested to me that he had lived with a mother who had this capability and, in growing up in that environment, while he didn’t know of anyone else who had described it as a common experience, it was, to him, no more weird than growing up with a mother who had a sixth finger on one of her hands.
When I probed him for details, he gave them to me, to the best of his ability. The nature in which he gave me the details reinforced my feelings that he was being sincere, too, as he articulated it to me in the same way you would expect one to if they had merely accepted an experience as a given and had never invested much thought in it at all, let alone subjected it all to the most cursory analysis.
His mother was Wiccan, he explained, and she had two of her friends — also women, as I recall, and also Wiccan — who would on occasion visit the house. When he was around while they were around, he always knew what they were doing, too. He mentioned them holding eye contact, which would imply the involvement of what I’ve called ocular telepathy, or telepathy and eye contact. I don’t recall if this was something that was required initially, however, just to get the telepathic ball rolling, so to speak, or if it had to be sustained — though given my journal entry, despite my lack of noting it, it did not seem to be necessary at all. After all, he explained that he had learned of his mother’s ability because he would often walk in on her “conversations” between her and her two friends — literally walk between them, I believe — and, within his head, he could “hear,” at the very least, his mother.
It was just like she was talking to you, he explained (though in his own words), but it happened solely within the space of the mind.
During these apparent training sessions, and even outside of them, he told me, his mother would always talk to him in this way. On at least one occasion, she said to him, telepathically, “I know you can hear me,” and obviously, indeed he could — but he only laughed. He couldn’t respond, he explained to me. He didn’t know how.
This also seemed to be the case between Eva and I. She didn’t seem to know how.
Jay and I eventually moved onto other things, undoubtedly driven by him, as I’m certain I would not have voluntarily let this particular subject go, but he returned to it later in the night, perhaps because I had gotten the gears grinding in his mind with respect to all of this and he had never considered giving the experiences any degree of thought until that point. He told me how he thought that it wasn’t through Wicca that his mother had gained this power, but that she could do it naturally; that maybe it was just that only his mother knew how to do it, not the other women. In my translation, he said: perhaps his mother could get into their minds, enabling her to not only send her inner voice into their minds but as a consequence hear their inner voices as well, enabling this form of telepathic communication between them, but that these two women couldn’t do this on their own, which is to say with others outside of herself.
At the time, I countered with this: if that was the case, if she could both read and send thoughts and that’s how her and her two Wiccan friends communciated like this, then he would have been just as capable of telepathically communicating with her through his inner voice than those women were. After all, if she could send and receive linguistic thoughts and he could hear her, all he would have to do to “send” to her would be to think in response to the voice as he thought to himself. Yet he had told me earlier that despite her capability to speak to him in his mind, he was apparently unable to respond. So how could this be the case?
In essence, accepting all that he was telling me, my curiosity was: was it possible that some people, perhaps all people, could telepathically receive linguistic transmissions, but not necessarily transmit their own thoughts? How could Eva not know how to respond to me via linguistic telepathy despite the fact that I could transmit my own thoughts to her, and without even knowing what I was doing? Was it that both Eva and Jay thought merely in mentalese, whereas Jay’s mother and I also had the capacity to think, inside our minds — and consequently those of others — in the form of our native language? Or was it because his mother and I were, in a sense, more practiced — her, with her Wiccan sisters, and I, with my alien friends and foes?
What bothers me most about all of this is that I had a golden opportunity to answer some vital questions regarding this, but my profound anxiety got in the way. For while I did subsequently meet his mother, it was at a party and my anxiety was high, so while we talked a bit, there wasn’t the demonstration I had been aching for. This could have been because she could read my thoughts, perhaps even feel my emotional state, and knew that if this demonstration were to take place I just might lose my mind and go entirely insane. It could also be the case that Jay was providing for me nothing but a feast of utter bullshit, but despite my reservations regarding him (though, like most people, I found him to be a frustratingly likable motherfucker), I honestly think he was telling me the truth.
In that light: now, nearly a decade and a half later, I wish I would have been more relaxed and tried a bit harder to get her to show me what she could do. I have countless questions:
When did this capability begin, and what spawned it? Did it involve meditation, ritual, drug use, or any such combination — for that matter, any altered state of consciousness? Or was she born with it?
Does she feel the energy around and within her body resonate with that of the other individual during telepathy? And consider Jay’s stories of walking between her and another as she was engaging in telepathic communication and hearing them, and her accusing Jay of hearing them: this suggests an energy or force between both of you that serves as the medium. Is it all about energy? In her case, does physical proximity matter?
If she can receive thoughts from them, can she also speak into their minds? Does this work with everyone? Are their obstacles with some people, and if so, what are these obstacles? Is she capable of hearing only conscious, deliberate thoughts, or does she also hear those semiconscious, automatic thoughts, typically negative, as well as whatever else is mulling around in the subliminal, unconscious aspects of the mind?
Does she think in English, and do others who speak English always think similarly, and does she telepathically “hear” those who speak foreign languages think in their own native tongue? Is there any experience with telepathy with someone who thinks primarily in mentalese, and if so, how is the experience different?
Does she always hear “words” when receiving from individuals, or with some people does she merely sense the meaning of what another is thinking and then have to translate the mentalese into words?
Can she also feel the emotions of others, and does she have the sense, as I do, that this kind of telepathic empathy may constitute a weaker or novice form of telepathy?
Can she also send and receive mental imagery, and does this include still and animate imagery as well as immersive, shared, lucid dream scenarios?
Are there ways, practices, escersizes, of which she is aware through which I can voluntarily trigger and utilize this ability, and if so, how? Are there ways to block unwanted, telepathic snoops and eavesdroppers?
Truth be known: I am both horrified by this ability and passionately drawn to it. Lingering in me is the fear that there are others out there who have this ability and have disciplined it, and that their aims, their motivations, may not square with my own, and that they may constitute a threat. For example, though I had asked Jason quite bluntly on several occasions, on all such occasions he expressed uncertainty about ”how deep” his mother can go, and whether it was limited to the foreground, conscious, “working memory” area of the mind. A comment he made to me on several occasions (having forgotten each time, so it seemed and felt to me, that he had mentioned it to me before) regarding something his mother said to him, however, made me even more curious and, I must confess, more than a bit apprehensive. She told him, in essence, that the real “trick” is to learn how to ”think” into other people’s minds and have them think that they thought those thoughts themselves. Unfortunately, I’m uncertain as to whether this suggests learning to speak in the other person’s internal voice or influence them at a more subliminal level. In either case, while this could certainly serve to help and heal others, it could also serve to manipulate them in a malicious manner.
To be able to communicate with another human being in the same way Nimi and I communicated with one another would be profoundly liberating, however. At heart, I feel I am an Artist, as Nimi claimed, and this designation has more to do with my essential, psychological nature than it does any activity in which I engage in service to it. I turn to the visual arts and writing because I feel it is, in many cases, a more effective means of expressing myself than verbal language alone. My telepathic communications with Nimi embraced so much that I felt I’d been lacking, and still lack.
Transmissions to Earth 