There are moments in life that shatter the foundation of what you think you know. Moments that pull the rug out from under your carefully constructed understanding of the world and leave you questioning everything. For me, two such moments stand out, and with the U.S. government finally opening the doors for testimony about UFOs—alien craft in our oceans, skies, and perhaps beyond—I find myself reflecting on these experiences and the chaos they stirred in my mind and soul.
A Bright Light Over Pittsburgh
I was 16, living in Pittsburgh, and headed down the steep incline of Maytide Street on my way to a friend’s house. We were planning to play a Napoleonic hex-and-counter war game by SPI—a kind of immersive, tactile strategy game that felt like stepping into history. My mind was focused on the battlefields of Europe, on strategy and simulation, on dice rolls and unit placements.
And then I saw it.
It looked like a planet at first, a bright, steady light in the sky, unremarkable in its stillness. But then it moved—zigzagging sharply across the sky, stopping, and then turning in an entirely new direction. It wasn’t a plane, it wasn’t a meteor, and it certainly wasn’t anything I could explain.
In that moment, I felt my perception shift. It was as if my mind suddenly sped up, processing the world faster, trying to make sense of something that defied explanation. I didn’t feel afraid; I felt... expanded. Like I was seeing a crack in the surface of reality, a glimpse of something bigger than the human experience.
I kept walking, eventually reaching my friend’s house, but the event stayed with me. I’d gone out that day expecting to reenact the strategies of Napoleonic generals, but instead, I found myself grappling with the edges of human understanding. That was the first moment that my perception of the world truly change.
Aboard the Ship: The Second Event
Years later, I was deployed in the Navy, serving aboard a U.S. warship. By this point, I’d seen my share of strange things, but nothing could have prepared me for what happened that night.
We were out on the open ocean, nothing but water and stars stretching endlessly in every direction. And then it happened—an object, unidentifiable, moving with a precision and speed that didn’t just challenge the laws of physics; it outright defied them.
It zigzagged through the night sky, stopped on a dime, reversed direction, and accelerated faster than anything I’d ever seen. There was no sound, no exhaust plume, no sense that it adhered to the rules that govern everything else in the known universe. It moved like it was playing in a different game entirely, one where inertia, momentum, and the very fabric of reality didn’t apply.
This wasn’t some fleeting moment, either. It was a repeatable, observable event. I wasn’t the only one who saw it, though we were all bound by silence. We weren’t supposed to talk about it, and for years I didn’t—not in detail.
But here’s the thing: once you’ve seen something like that, you can’t unsee it. It stays with you. It changes you.
The World Without Rules
Now, as the U.S. government begins to pull back the veil of secrecy, allowing military members and researchers to testify openly about these phenomena, I feel a strange sense of validation—and unease.
What does it mean for the world when the rules are no longer rules? When everything we thought was settled—gravity, inertia, the very laws of physics—is suddenly open to question?
For some, it’s terrifying. The idea that we are not alone, that there are forces and intelligences far beyond our understanding, shakes the core of human arrogance. For others, it’s exhilarating—a door flung open to a universe of possibilities, to discoveries that could redefine existence itself.
For me, it’s both. I’m a writer, a storyteller, someone who thrives on the idea of exploring the unknown. But I’m also a human being, grounded (however tenuously) in the structures of reality. To see those structures crack and shift is both thrilling and disorienting.
From Stories to Truth
Those two experiences—the light over Pittsburgh and the encounter aboard the ship—have stayed with me all these years. They inspired my short story, Pretty Lady Is My Friend, and are now shaping my upcoming novel, I Don’t Want to Remember. Writing these stories has been my way of grappling with the unexplainable, of turning chaos into narrative.
But more than that, it’s my way of sharing the questions that haunt me. What happens when the world isn’t what we thought it was? When the rules we lived by no longer apply?
And perhaps most importantly: how do we move forward in a world that has changed, knowing there is more out there than we ever imagined?
A Call to Curiosity
As the veil lifts, I hope we can approach these revelations with humility and curiosity. The universe is vast and mysterious, and we are only just beginning to understand its complexities.
If nothing else, these experiences have taught me this: the unknown isn’t something to fear—it’s something to explore. And sometimes, the most profound journeys don’t take us to distant stars but deep into the fabric of our own reality, where the familiar becomes strange, and the strange becomes familiar.
So I keep writing, keep exploring, keep searching for the stories that help make sense of the senseless. And as the world begins to change in ways we never expected, I invite you to join me—to ask questions, to seek answers, and to embrace the wonder of a universe that is far bigger, stranger, and more beautiful than we ever dreamed.
Because the rules have changed. And that’s where the story begins.
No comments:
Post a Comment