Hidden Alien Photos! - Amaury Rivera pt.3 | DEBRIEFED ep. 89

Propel Fitness Water. With Gatorade Electrolytes, zero sugar, and vitamins. Propel hydrates better than water to help you get the most out of your workout and get back to your best self. What propels you? Propel with Gatorade Electrolytes. This Labor Day at Lowe's. Get up to 45% off select major appliances. Plus, deals on select materials and tools to keep the job moving. Right now, get a free DeWalt 20-volt Max battery 2-pack when you buy a select DeWalt 20-volt Max tool. At Lowe's, we have what you need to keep your job moving. Valid through 9-13. While supplies last. Selection varies by location. See Lowe's.com for more details. I'm from Pennsylvania. I have had a couple experiences in my life. The most recent one, I had gone to bed and I woke up. Stand-up. Standing in my living room, looking out the big bay living room windows and they have a crank open. And the one on the right was open and I noticed that my partner was standing next to me and she was completely motionless, not responsive. And I go to close the window. I realized I couldn't move and I see this really. tall being walking out of the darkness towards the window that is open. This thing was as tall as the window, so it had to have been nine feet tall, maybe eight feet tall. And it was this gray skin with this like purpley pink, like you could see, I guess, like veins or capillaries. Its lower jaw was small and it didn't really make sense for the. For the size of its head and it had these big, round, and they weren't almond shaped like you usually think. They were round, but they were like bigger than golf balls, black eyes and this thing had these big, long, skinny arms. And I remember trying to scream in absolute terror and my voice, as best I can describe it, started getting like mechanical and then everything just cut out. That was the most terror I've. ever experienced in my entire life. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to another episode of Debriefed. My name is Chris Ramsey and today we are going to take a final look at the story of Amori Rivera. This is part three of a three-part series. If you haven't seen the first two, I left the link below. What makes this man's story so compelling is not only the fact that he recounts being taken from his car by what seemed to be greys. Not only did he. interact with a human-like extraterrestrial and was taken to their planet allegedly via some type of hologram. Not only did he see 14 other people aboard this craft, but after he was shown all the images of the world ending in a chaotic manner in what was quite dark, he was dropped off, had a camera on him, and snapped possibly the clearest. photos of a flying saucer I've ever seen. These photos came my way by way of auction by Colonel Wendell Stevens and I had purchased these three photos and, you know, there's a lot to glean from these photos, especially the fact that there might be different aircrafts in these photos. He recounts seeing three of them circle this craft before the craft tilted, went up into space, and the three aircraft sort of dispersed. But the story doesn't stop there. Sure, he ends up getting these photos developed, chosen to his family. There's allegedly photos of the aliens, not just the craft. Like, this is the best camera roll in existence. He locks himself in his room, has fever dreams, doesn't feel good. Everybody's trying to talk to him. He gets scared. He's terrified. He's shaking. He's just absolutely going through hell. But it gets stranger. And it gets worse. And today, we're going to cover that. But before we do that, folks, I just want to remind you that the It's Probably Nothing live show tickets are now on sale. Go to itsprobablynothing.com. I'm going to be hitting the stage at a theater near you and joined by several co-hosts along the way. And so a lot of people ask me, will Jesse Michaels be joining me on this tour? Although he will be dropping in on a few dates, I will be rotating between co-hosts. So not just Jesse, but other familiar fans. All your faces in the community that you'll surely recognize. But we'll also welcome special guests at every venue, as well as a local guest. Somebody who has a personal encounter story from the region that we've met prior. So once you buy your tickets, you'll eventually be sent a link where you can fill out a whole sheet. And then from that, I will pick maybe one or two guests at the venue to join me on stage. It's very exciting. And if you haven't checked it out yet, we upload. We uploaded the Montreal show featuring George St-Pierre there. You can check that out. But tickets are on sale. It'sprobablynothing.com. And folks, one more thing. A quick word from the sponsors that helped make this show possible. You know, one thing that separates us from the alien greys featured in a lot of these stories is these aliens seem to secrete their waste from their skin. Now, I don't know about you, but it's got to be a better way to moisturize. And yet, here we are taking these synthetic creams loaded with chemicals and we rub them into our own skin every day. Stuff your body doesn't recognize. Stuff it can't really use. So are we really that different? Well, that's why I switched to Van Man's Grass-Fed Tallow Balm. Because instead of forcing something foreign onto your skin, this actually works with it. The fatty acids in the tallow are almost identical to your skin's natural oils. So your body recognizes it immediately. It absorbs properly. No film, no fake smoothness, and no buildup. Just your skin functioning the way it's supposed to. And, because there's no filler garbage, you barely use any, and a little goes a long way. It's not just a moisturizer, either. People use it for dry skin, irritation, as a night cream, even in place of things like Neosporin. It's simple, and it works. And if you want to try it, go to vanman.shop slash area52 and use code area52 for 15% off your order. That's vanman.shop slash area52 with code area52 for 15% off. Alright, folks. We paid the bill. The bill's. Let's get into it. Smash like, subscribe, hit the notification bell. Before I start reading chapter 8, which we are on now, there is a very pertinent piece of information that has come to my attention about this story. Well, adjacent to this story. Actually, in the same location. A guy by the name George reached out to me. Shout out, George. And he said you should take a look at this case. So this ufologist. This ufologist or UFO researcher known as Jorge Martin was the prominent UFO researcher in Puerto Rico at the time, and I believe, you know, for a very long time. And in December of 1988, so later that year, there was a mass sighting in Cabo Rojo, the exact same location. A sighting that occurred over a mountain of a giant triangular craft that was intercepted. By at least two F-14s. Now, these F-14s ended up circling the craft multiple times and eventually looked like they were going to collide with the craft and ended up disappearing. This doesn't come from me. I'm not making this up. There are over 100 witnesses that have not only talked about this, but that have drawn pictures to depict what they were looking at. This is incredible evidence. Witness sightings. Reports from all over Cabo Rojo. These fighter jets intercepting this thing, disappearing midair. Just an incredible piece of evidence that kind of corroborates the story here with Amore. Now, what I found interesting is that he did mention that these craft have wedge-type pieces. Like, for instance, the disc that you're seeing on the picture that he snapped looks to have some seams. And maybe those seams come apart. He described them. Kind of like pizza-shaped. Like, they would come off. And that. What shape would you say that a pizza, you know, slice is? It's a triangle. Are we seeing. Now, this one was, like, a mile wide. But is this part of an even bigger sort of mothership? Now, eventually, apparently, allegedly, a third craft, a third F-14, came into or was sort of inspecting the UFO. And the UFO then deployed three red orbs. To chase after it. And it was never heard from. The fighter jets were American. So there is an American presence involved in this story, which, you know, might come into play a little bit later. And so you ask yourself, where do these fighter jets originate from? If they're American, what are they doing in Puerto Rico? Well, there is an airfield nearby in the Bahamas, I believe. That. And I think this was Jorge Martin. Jorge Martin, who said this. And that they actually confirmed deploying multiple F-14s. for testing during that time. So the FAA confirmed this, but then when they went to the Americans, they denied it, right? So obviously something was going on, but what a compelling and interesting story, especially because it kind of ties in to what we're talking about. And it makes this story all the more, I don't know, real. It raises my conviction level. I left a link to that video below, Eyes on Cinema, fantastic YouTube channel that kind of documents all types of historical and archival UFO footage, videos, compiles it, puts it on there. I can't get enough of that channel. I learn something new every time I go to it. So definitely check it out. But if you want to watch that entire clip of the interview with Wendell Stevens, with Jorge Martin, check it out. I left it below. Just a little tidbit of information. You know, as a community, we come together. And we're able to add on to these stories with our own personal knowledge. We're acting as like this collective hive mind of ufology or UFO researching. And I can't get enough. I think it's awesome. I think that's what the internet is for. That's what the community is for. That's what our Discord is for. If you want to head over there and discuss this very episode, we have a channel dedicated, a thread dedicated to every single episode where you can, you know, chime in on your own ideas so they don't get lost in the sauce here on YouTube or on Spotify. Spotify. Chapter eight, we begin, folks. It's early in the morning. What time is it here? 830? Feeling good, feeling alive, feeling pumped. Let's check in with Amori. The nightmares became an everyday thing for me, but I never got used to them. Every time was like the first. I'd put away the pictures and their negatives in an envelope, along with some enlargements that were left over from the ones I sent my brother Charlie and my father. I didn't look at them now as often, but it was still the first thing I thought about every day when I woke up. The issues with the UFO pictures started to fade away. At home, little by little, we stopped talking about it. It was as if we'd all agreed on it. One day, I just stopped opening the drawer where I kept the pictures and their negatives. My family started to forget about the whole thing, and I did the same. I gave up trying to remember what happened during the lost time. It was easier and more convenient not to. In time, the nightmares were less, until they went away altogether. Ain't that the truth, though? No matter how incredible something is, how unbelievably life-changing and completely shocking an event might be, eventually you move on. Even from aliens, you have to. We have a life to live. There's bills to pay. There's jobs. You've got to maintain relationships and see the world. It must be just absolutely really tough for this guy, especially knowing what he knows, seeing what he saw, to just move on. But alas, I think that's what he's getting to. One day at work, in my job as a janitor in an elementary school, I remember, I remembered an old idea I had. Back in New York, I used to eat every day at a hot dog stand on my way to work. While contemplating coming to Puerto Rico, I remember my aunt telling me about the poor job situation and me thinking that I could set up one of those hot dog stands. But since I got those two jobs just days after arriving in Puerto Rico, I forgot about it now. Now the idea was strongly back in my mind. I bought a food cart with an umbrella and all the necessary items. I complied with all the requirements from the department, and I was able to get a job. I was able to get a job in the Department of Commerce and provided all the necessary paperwork and documents. After that, everything was pretty easy and immediately started to sell my hot dogs. I thought that the place I chose to set it up was out of pure coincidence. However, it turns out that I had picked three other ideal places to set up shop. Out of those three, I had chosen, to my knowledge, the best one. When I first headed out to start my business, there were hot dog carts on all three places I picked. I didn't know how that was possible since I had driven by those places many times before and had never seen a single cart. That day, my cousin and his wife were with me. They moved my cart here and there with their car, looking for an appropriate spot. I couldn't believe the places I'd picked were now occupied. Out of frustration, I wanted to go home and forget about it for a while. My cousin suggested we go to the beach El Combate. Though I was disillusioned, I agreed. Maybe with a little luck, I'd be able to find a spot alongside the other vendors. This beach in particular is full of vendors who sell all kinds of food. On our way over there, I stopped at the road 301. He stopped behind me and asked me why I'd stopped. I went over to them and told them I wanted to just forget everything. They told me I shouldn't give up so easily, and while we argued over going to the beach or not, a huge tree was nearby. It caught my attention. It had a huge trunk and had brown color masts hanging from its branches. My cousin's wife noticed I was not paying attention anymore. I was captivated by this tree. What kind of tree is that? A jibaro from New York knows not of these things, asked them. It's tamarind, they answered. I didn't know what tamarind was. The majestic tree had me mesmerized. It was located near the side of the 301 road. Behind it was an estate with cattle, but no houses nearby. Near this colossal tree was also a flamboyant tree. I felt a very peculiar attraction to that place, so I crossed the street. I didn't even notice when my cousin and his wife came up to me. The breeze was wonderful. My cousin's wife couldn't comprehend my fixation with the tree, and frankly, neither could I. Why don't you set up here, she asked. I looked at them, and in an instant, all my frustration and thoughts of giving up were gone. With a smile on my face, I said, welcome to the Tamarindo Hot Dogs. They helped me set everything up. My first client arrived, and I served the first hot dog with meat, onions, and melted cheese. The day was a complete success. To this day, I'm still here. The owner of the adjacent estate let me borrow a little of his land, and I hung a hammock between the trees. For now, the whole UFO thing was better than ever. I was worried. From my hammock, I could see mountains. Later, I learned they're called Sierras Bermejas. Now, this is interesting because the Sierras Bermejas mountains were the ones that had the mass sighting, by the way. So this might come into play a little bit later. Very interesting. I was happy. My business was booming, and I loved being able to mingle with nature every day. This neighborhood is known as Las Almas. I was happy. So this neighborhood is known as Las Almas. I met lots of good people and made lots of friends. Among them, a family who treated me like one of their own. Popo, the head of the family, has always been there when I needed him. He even lets me leave my cart in his house, so that I don't have to take it all the way back home every day. One day, while talking to Edgardo, Popo's stepson, the UFO subject came up. We were talking about our childhoods, and he told me an interesting story. When he was a child, and while at mass one day, he saw through the church's windows a bizarre, glowing object. It was like a ball of fire. He told the congregation what he was seeing. He told them that the object in the sky was a work of Satan. After this, they prayed with fervency. Don't look at it, they told him. But as they bowed their heads and prayed, he kept looking at the phenomenon in the sky. Because he told me this story with such honesty and in all seriousness, I felt comfortable enough to tell him what happened to me that morning, in 1988. When I was through, to my surprise, he said he believed me. The next day, I showed him and the rest of his family two of the pictures. I know some of them didn't know what to think, and others simply couldn't accept it, among the non-believers, Mr. Popo. Afterwards, though, and by his own personal experience, he changed his mind. After my friend recommended it, and after his family's reaction was not negative, I decided to exhibit the enlarged picture on my hot dog cart. I mistakenly thought that maybe someone would come up and tell me they'd seen the same object over the skies in Cabo Rojo. Maybe even someone who had seen it that same morning. To the people who did inquire, I didn't give details. I only told them I had taken the picture one day coming home late from work. The specifics were intense and too hard to believe. They would have required too many explanations from my own experience. I didn't give details. I only told them I had my part, and I didn't want to complicate things. The enlarged picture of the UFO in the military plane did get some attention, but not the one I was hoping for. People started to make fun of me. They called me crazy and a liar. People got ketchup and mustard all over the picture. They all wanted to see it, but no one mentioned they had also seen it. They drove by and yelled obscenities and called me extraterrestrial or Martian. None of this was good for business. A few days after, I was told that I had seen the same object After that, I decided to just remove the picture and put it back in my bedroom drawer. The Drawer of Oblivion. Pretty dramatic, but also paints a real nice picture of his vulnerability when it comes to this story. You know, there must be this constant battle of, am I crazy? No, I'm not crazy. I have the pictures. This really happened. People think I'm crazy. And this sort of frustration of endless, you know, cycling through these different things must just build up over time to where you just want to let it go and be like, you know what? Screw it. I'm over it. What propels you? Valid through 9-13. While supplies last. Lowe's.com. And to those saying, oh, there's a book. There's always a book. First of all, let me just side note on that, right? Because I had a guest recently, and at the top of the episode, we mentioned, you know, if you want to purchase his book, go check it out. So many comments were like, there's always a book. Books. Rah. Rah. Tell me without telling me that you don't read books. Books. I, for one, get excited when someone has a book. This is how I see books. There are books all around me. I read books. I love books. I love audiobooks. I love reading paperback. If you don't read books, I understand your frustration with someone trying to sell a book because to you, it might just be an object worth money. But to people who read and to people who write books, it is a memoir. Sometimes a incredibly personal and detailed memoir. Of what happened. The only way that you can possibly structure something together and make sense of it and record it archivally and have it out there because maybe someone else will connect with what you wrote and say, you know what? That happened to me, too. That exact thing, this little detail or whatever. How else are they supposed to find these details if you don't make them public? Oh, you're supposed to do it for free, right? You're supposed to take, I don't know, a year or two. You're supposed to take a year or two out of your life every waking moment to write something for free. And then what? Mass produce it and give it away for free as well? Like, I don't understand. It's a flawed argument in my mind. But it also tells me that the people who say that probably don't read books. And that's what I have. That's the conclusion I've come to. I, for one, am very, I get very excited when a experiencer decides to put his or her experience into a book. I get very excited when a experiencer decides to put his or her experience into a coherent project or book. You know, I think it's, I think we could use more of that, to be honest. I don't know. Hot take, maybe? Let me know what you think. Chapter nine. One morning, when, as usual, I got up to get everything set up for my business, something really strange happened to me. My grandmother was chopping onions that she would later cook, and I was cooking the meat on top of the stove. All of a sudden? I left everything and went straight to my bedroom. From one of the drawers, I took the envelope that had the pictures and the negatives. From the other drawer, I grabbed some tape, the kind used for moving boxes, like a zombie. I went to the balcony where my dog, Christina, had her little wooden house. I taped the envelope to the inside of the roof of the dog house. Christina looked at me like, What's wrong with him now? Gave her water as usual. Put the tape back. Went back to the kitchen as if nothing had happened. Mama, who was still chopping onions, didn't notice anything. After finishing up, I headed to the tamarindo. Later that afternoon, something happened that left me wondering for a long time about it. Mama was watching the television I was putting in the refrigerator, but was left over from work. I gave Mama a kiss, and I asked her how her day went. She told me all had been well, and that she'd left a plate for me on the stove. As I went into the kitchen, I heard footsteps coming from the back stairs, and I got nervous. The house has two entrances, one solid one, and one made of wire that keeps the insects out. A man appeared at the second door. At first, I thought he might be a Mormon, or a Jehovah's Witness, or a salesman. Without opening the door, I asked him if there was something I could help him with. He then let himself in like it was nobody's business. Along with three other men, Mama got scared and asked me who those men were. The first one wore a suit and tie and had sunglasses on. The other three wore more casual clothing. Mama again asked who they were, but they ignored it. Are you Amori Rivera Toro? My answer was only, yes. Their arrogance and authoritative attitude intimidated me. The one in the suit handed me some documents. Mama disregarded them. I looked at the news she was watching and got up. My hands were shaking as I took the documents. The heading on the first of these documents read CIA. While I was trying to read the documents, the man with the tie told me that it's best if I handed him the negatives. I looked at him, trying to conceal my nervousness. I told this man, who looked like the one in charge, that I didn't know what he was talking about. Mama started to say something, but I told her to be quiet with a look. After that, she told me what she was talking about. What she was going to say was to give them the negatives and to avoid any further trouble. Mama didn't look well. While all this was happening, I asked her to go downstairs with my aunt while I talked to these gentlemen. I called my cousin Danny, and he came up and helped her down. As she left, she didn't look at the other men or said a word. The man with the tie repeated his request. He also said that if I didn't hand them the negatives, they would have to search the house. I, again, told him I didn't know what he was talking about. I pretended to be reading the papers, but in all truth, their presence had me so shocked, I could not read. On the second page, I only remember reading something about photographs and negatives. With my trembling hands, I gave the documents back to the man with the suit, who was the only one who talked. I couldn't see his eyes through the sunglasses, but I could feel the heavy stare. The others awaited his instructions. I then told them to feel free to search the house. I even remember going up to them. I couldn't see his eyes through the television and turning it off. So first of all, let's take a little pause here. Men in Black just showed up. You know, this is clearly the Men in Black description. Now, what's interesting is that the man in question here with the tie is joined by three other casually dressed men. And one thing that Amori didn't go over, which maybe he does a little bit later, but he doesn't. He doesn't tell us if these men are Caucasian or if they're American. Nothing about their height. You know, a lot of times you hear these stories with the Men in Black, these tall, gaunt-looking figures that kind of speak robotically. But we're not getting any of those details right now. So could it be Men in Black? Could it be just some agents? You know, he is advertising these photos. And if they want to keep this hush, I mean, you know. Probably not that hard to find. I don't know how they knew, but as soon as they were told to start the search, they first went to my room. Not only did they go directly to it, but also to the drawer where I had the photos and the negatives before I changed them. Whoa! They looked confused when they didn't find them. They then opened every other drawer one by one. They were very meticulous. Once they opened a drawer and emptied it item by item, if they didn't find what they were looking for, they put everything back as they found it. In the same manner, they searched my entire room, the rest of the house. You could see they got frustrated. None of them spoke during the search. That is a wild detail as well. That they went directly, like they knew somehow. And then if you think about. You know, obviously him in a zombie unconscious-like state going to get the photos, duct taping them under, you know, in the doghouse. Could that have been the work of the extraterrestrials? Could that have been his intuition? Some type of predictive or premonition instinct that he had when he was just kind of like, I need to do this. Thank you. it's interesting too, because the agents seem to know exactly where to look first. Like that is a very pertinent detail. How would they know that? They shouldn't know that detail. So the fact that they do know that, I don't know, that doesn't sit well with me. It seems, now I don't want to go and say, ah, maybe the men in black here are somehow using non-human technology to find that out. Maybe so. And maybe to counter that, you know, he had to go unconscious and like do this, do this thing so that they couldn't see, you know, perhaps through his eyes. I don't know. I'm grasping at straws here, but I'm, I'd like a theory crafting based on what we're hearing. Even though I was extremely nervous inside, I was like, these people were so confused that it was actually funny. Their arrogance started to fade for a moment though. I, it wasn't funny when one of them went out to the balcony. I inhaled deeply and stopped breathing for a few seconds. He looked everywhere and approached the dog house. Christina barked at him and went inside her little house. I saw everything from a window in the living room. The man came back inside and I could breathe again. One of them who wore a guayabera, a guayabera is a, is like a white shirt, South American style clothing. How do I know that? But also this kind of gives me a better idea, probably not Caucasian, probably local, at least the, um, the three other men that were with this gentleman. And again, the fact that he didn't mention that he looked or spoke American probably means that he wasn't. He didn't mention that he looked or spoke American. He didn't mention that he looked or spoke So one of them who wore a guayabera took out a plastic bag from his pocket. He put in it all the photo negatives they found inside the house. They were negatives of family activities like birthdays, weddings, baptisms. They don't know why they wanted those since they had nothing to do with what they were looking for. They even removed the frames from the paintings in our house. Also, they looked inside every porcelain and plaster hoping to find those negatives. The search was executed very methodically, leaving everything where they'd found it. It wasn't like in the movies where agents shatter everything during a search. Every specific area that they had searched, they did so paying much attention to detail. The funniest part was when they opened the refrigerator and actually looked between some eggplant slices that my grandmother had left in there and that it started to go bad. I stayed put in the living room, observing them. Quiet. They, in turn, ignored me and didn't speak either. At a certain moment, their behavior changed, and it looked like they were about to give up. They searched the two rooms, the bathroom, the living room, the kitchen. They were there the entire afternoon. When they finally gave up, they left without saying a word. As they went out the gate and got into the gray four-door car, pretty much my whole family was just arriving. Apparently, my cousin Danny had alerted every member of the family. They were all there. They were all there. They were all there. They were all family. Mama seemed like she had calmed down. When they all went in, they were puzzled. They expected to find the place thrashed, yet nothing looked out of place. We all gathered in the living room, and I told them what happened. They all wanted to speak and ask questions at the same time. It was as if we'd all gotten together for some holiday or something. It was like Thanksgiving, but with no turkey. What most surprised everyone was that same morning, I thought of hiding the house. Again, everyone came up with their own theory for that. Some said that a spirit had alerted me, others that it had been my sixth sense, and yet others thought that the extraterrestrials were guiding me. That's where my head's at, too. I feel like there seems to be some intervention and what the origin of that is. I don't know. Since we were all gathered together, by the way, this story, somebody, uh, who told me this? This was a story as I was speaking to Ross Coulthart one day, and we were talking about how sometimes seeing crafts, you'll have this, like, zombie-like state afterwards and do things that are out of the ordinary or just seem completely obscure in the moment. Sometimes it's like walking home, not saying hi to anyone. Going straight to bed. But this one case was when a gentleman was outside, I think he was enjoying a cigarette, and looks up, sees a giant triangular craft-type deal, takes his phone out, snaps the clearest picture, like, 100% disclosure. Like, this is the clearest picture. You could see every detail in this craft-type deal. And he calls his brother, and this is how it was corroborated, because he ends up calling his brother and, like, telling him about it. I have the clearest photo. Like, it's, uh, it was amazing. And his brother, for some reason, on the other line, ends up saying, oh, cool, I'm really tired, I'm going to bed. Like, and this wasn't like his brother. Like, the fact that he just, like, brushed it aside, almost like he was being controlled. And he's like, yeah, me too. And both of them just went straight to bed. Now, before, or this is after, yeah, they went to bed, and the next morning, he gets up, looks at his phone, goes through the photos, sees the clearest photo of a UFO he's ever seen. Proceeds to then delete it, and go into the recently deleted and delete it again. Convenient, you know. If you're a researcher out there, or even a skeptic, you're going, well, of course he did. But that seems to be par for the course when it comes to this stuff. There seems to be something else at play here. There seems to be something here that is controlling disclosure from the inside. As they say, the call is coming from inside the house. Like, the NHI are collaborating with some faction of the government to propel fitness water with Gatorade electrolytes, zero sugar, and vitamins. What propels you? Valid through 9-13. While supplies last. Keep a lid on this somehow. You know, there's always a piece of information and it just always ends up slipping out of your hands. As soon as it, whether it's a witness or a photo or a video, it's always just right there. And then it just goes away. And it seems like in this case, at the very least, the only way to negate that is to sort of unconsciously have these guided moments where you just kind of do something. And that confuses them. It throws them off the scent somehow. Very strange. Very cool. I got to say, shout out to Amori because he's a very compelling writer. I enjoy reading his writing. He's not a writer. There's plenty of mistakes here. This was obviously translated as well, but it's really good. I enjoy reading this. Since we were all gathered together, I took the opportunity to tell them that from now on, if anyone asked about the pictures or my whole experience, they were to tell them that it was all made up. I wanted to end everything once and for all. That same night, I thought of destroying all the evidence, but instead I decided to send it to my brother Charlie and his wife. Junior, my oldest cousin, took the pictures and negatives home with him. He later told me he couldn't sleep because he kept thinking that the CIA would come to his house. The men who came to my home identified themselves as CIA, but who's to know where they came from? The next day, we went to the post office in a different town, and Junior sent everything to Japan. We had already called my brother from a friend's house. We told him not to call us from his phone. We feared that if indeed those men were from the CIA, our phones were probably tapped. Charlie knew this friend of ours, so it was enough to tell him, Charlie, it's me. Don't ask questions. Just call me at Palitos, but don't use your phone. We hung up, and he called back right away. I told him what had happened with those men who said they were from the CIA. We told him we would send him the package to the house of a friend of his wife. When he got the package, he immediately took it to a safety deposit box in a bank. He hid the key in a metal closet he had where he was stationed. After all this, when we talked on the phone and would talk about the pictures, we would refer to them as the baby. How's the baby? Has anyone come asking about the baby? My brother Charlie gave such good advice, it's really a shame I didn't listen to him. I think maybe things had to happen that way. First of all, Charlie, what a G. Not only did Amori have the foresight to give the negatives to a friend, tell the friend to use a different phone to call Charlie, tell Charlie to use a different phone to call this other friend back, go to a different town to ship them off, and then reference the, like, I mean, this is like straight up spy school. And good for them. And that's probably part of the reason that we're talking about these photos and getting to see them right now was all that care. Because as you can tell, there's like almost no hiding from these agents. So many stories happen where they see a craft, and hours later they're accosted by some gentleman in a diplomatic vehicle. Even though they didn't tell anybody about it. And so he's staying one step ahead. I think this is awesome. This is such a cool, I could see, I want to see a movie made of this story so far. It would be so cool. Chapter 10. I still worked at the Tamarindo selling hot dogs. Little by little, I started to make it look nice. Planted a few flowers. And other plants. And I took real good care of them. Weeks went by, and I didn't get any unexpected visits. I tried to follow my brother's advice to forget about the whole thing, invest my time in more productive things, and to keep the experience to myself. I built a small garden at the Tamarindo. When I had no clients in the afternoon, I would lay on my hammock and enjoy the magnificent breeze and the landscape. From there, the hills looked beautiful. I got a seat. Say, Amori really knows how to live. This sounds very pleasant. In that little garden, I shared many wonderful moments with my family and friends. I was again able to bury in my subconscious the things related to issues not of this earth. Though it was still what I thought about when I woke up. My brother and I stopped talking about the baby in our conversations and letters. My clientele increased considerably. I felt happy, but I couldn't smile as often as I did before. A few years went by without problems, except for those common everyday life ones like paying the bills, my car breaking down, etc. Everyday stuff. The worst, however, was yet to come. A being came into my life that would only bring about all kinds of trouble. I'm not talking about an extraterrestrial. This was a totally egotistical individual. Maybe out of personal frustrations or lack of attention, or maybe out of a lack of self-esteem. Because of people like him, it's not hard to get an idea of why things are the way they are in this world. Money sometimes has a supernatural power over some people. It's mesmerizing to see the things some people are willing to do in order to get it, even destroy other people's lives. Foreshadowing once again, and I gotta say, you know, Amori sounds like a very reasonable person here. And he sounds like he's got his head screwed well up, screwed well onto his shoulders, enjoying life, doesn't care about money. If you're out there, Amori, and you're listening to this, you know, reach out. I think I've reached out to you. I've tried to reach out to you numerous ways, but find me. Would love to have a chat. One day I arrived at the Tamarindo, and there was a large wine and gray-colored car parked there. I started to set up as usual. I noticed that inside that old car, there was a man who stared at me like a vulture. His crazy eyes made me uncomfortable. I didn't want to turn my back to him, but I had to because of where he was parked. What did he want? Who was he? I kept thinking. While I was cooking the hot dogs, he got out of the car and approached me. I got nervous and felt uneasy. He had black hair, a wide face, tan skin, and his body was enormous. His complexion was not good due to his obesity. He identified himself as an investigator of the UFO phenomenon. That damn word again, I thought to myself. He then formally introduced himself, and for our purposes, we'll call him Mr. B. Mr. B told me he worked for a local magazine that covered that subject, among others. He said that word got to him that I'd had an encounter with extraterrestrial beings, and that I even managed to take a picture of a ship beside a military plane. I didn't want to start this thing up again. I told Mr. B I knew nothing of the matter, Martians or any pictures. By the way he was dressed, he didn't look like he worked for a magazine. From the moment he approached me with his beggar appearance, I didn't trust him. I even thought for a moment that he might be some CIA agent in disguise. He insisted on the pictures and my experience. Again, I told him I knew nothing, that he was mistaken and maybe looking for someone else. He started to get on my nerves. I even looked at him and said, "I think I've lost focus on what I was doing." He then got in his car and left. He had ruined my whole day. I spent most of it thinking about him. A few days after that, he came by again. This time he was more pressing. I asked to please leave me alone. He told me the name of the magazine he supposedly worked for. I doubted it even existed. I didn't know what to make of things he told me. He said he was personally in contact with an extraterrestrial being called Cosmonoc. Also, he and some of his friends would do vigils and they had managed to record some UFOs flying over their heads at really low altitudes. He added that he had hundreds of UFO photographs. He tried to gain my trust by telling me these absurdities. After harassing me the entire day, he left without the answer he was looking for. The next day, I went to a newsstand to buy one of the local newspapers, El Vocero. Out of curiosity, I looked for the magazine Mr. B had mentioned. I was surprised when I found it. On the cover were the same strange creatures that looked like the one I saw. I was shocked. I bought both the magazine and the newspaper. When I got to the Tamarindo, I took the magazine and went through it until I found the section that listed all of its collaborators, and the editor's name was Jorge Martin. And I also found out that in fact, Mr. B was among the collaborators. I figured then that what he had told me was true. In the afternoon, Mr. B came home. He came back to the Tamarindo. This time, I heard him out. He brought with him other copies of the magazine to try and convince me that what he was saying was true. He showed his name among the list of collaborators. I didn't mention that I had already seen it. I heard him out, but didn't give him any information. I repeat, I didn't trust Mr. B among the many stupid things that Mr. B wanted from me. He said he wanted me to admit that I'd taken the pictures with the UFO and military plane. He also said that Jorge Martin wanted to interview me. That every day when I got to the Tamarindo, I should raise my arms, and facing the Sierras Bermejas, I should say everything for others. That demons were after him, and that the devil wanted him to form a new religion. That he and his wife saw human shadows on the doors of their home. The things he was telling me were a blend between E.T. and The Exorcist. All right, clearly not buying, not picking up what he's putting down, not buying what he's selling. Not catching what he's throwing. The things he said were scary, but what he drew on the ground were terrifying. He tried very hard to get me to admit my encounter. I couldn't get rid of him. I didn't want to meet Mr. Martin. That's all I needed. Two lunatics. People talking crazy. I judged Mr. Martin without knowing him. A grave mistake on my part. The thing was that if Mr. B represented that magazine, then I simply wasn't interested. In time, I met Mr. Martin. And it turns out he is the complete opposite of Mr. B. I met him because of a strange dream I had. I know it sounds weird, but that's how it happened. And so that's how I'll write it. A little heads up. From now on, things start to get even stranger. The dream went like this. I found myself in Tamarindo. It was night and my hot dog cart was nowhere to be found. With me was a local dog named Flaca. I was feeding her with pieces of hot dogs. I saw a man standing in the darkness below one of the trees. He approached and I noticed he was dressed in black. He was about my height and had shoulder-length hair. He wore it back like an Indian. I didn't remember feeling scared. This young-looking man said, Send the pictures to Jorge Martin. The one from the magazine. After he spoke, I suddenly woke up. It was so real. And I knew I met that man. But I couldn't place him. The pictures, I thought. Sure enough, he was the same person as in the photographs. He wore the same clothes. I had never dreamt about him. Only about the beings with the fetal heads. That night, after going over it thoroughly, I concluded that my subconscious created that dream because of Mr. B's constant harassment about the pictures and him wanting me to talk to Mr. Martin. Now, what's interesting here is the dream was a dream. Dreams are really interesting. I find, especially when it comes to experiencers, because there is this blurred line of reality and then this alternate reality that happens in the non-waking state. And somewhere within that is this non-physical realm that we interact with on a daily basis. It sometimes acts as a synchronicity engine. Sometimes, even according to people like Rupert Sheldrake, can be precognitive. Beings also seem to interact with us in these states, whether they're altered through substance or in deep REM sort of sleep states. Dreams are interesting, but they're so nebulous and hard. They're ethereal. They're just hard to measure. And, you know, we kind of neglect them for the most part as a state of being. We don't look at society as being an important part of our lives. But the truth is that thousands of cultures for thousands of years placed such importance on them. Why would they do that? Sure, okay, they might be a little superstitious, but perhaps there's something more. Perhaps these dreams did act as some type of premonition or some type of message or gave people direction. I just think we've lost touch with the dream realm. And we kind of take it for granted. We're like, oh, get your sleep, get your rest so you can wake up and work. But what if this alternate reality that we're living at night or whenever we dream is equally as important? Is the yin to the yang? What if that is life also or a different part of it? I constantly ask myself who that man next to me and one of those little men was. Had he also been kidnapped by the big headed creatures? I couldn't sleep. I banged my head thinking about it all through the night. I decided to do then just that. Send the pictures to that editor. I interpreted the dream as my subconscious telling me what to do. I asked my father to send me some of the copies I'd sent him. He recommended I didn't mess with those people from the magazine. That would only cause me trouble. He also reminded me of what happened with the CIA. Propel Fitness Water with Gatorade Electrolytes, zero sugar and vitamins. What propels you? Get a free DeWalt 20 volt max battery two pack. When you buy a select DeWalt 20 volt max tool. Valid through 913. While supplies last. I didn't mention the dream to my father because I knew he would say it was an act of the devil. I didn't pay attention to his good advice and I sent the pictures anonymously to Jorge Martin. Along with the pictures that included the enlarged, one I had exhibited in the Tamarindo, I added a note explaining the circumstances in which they were taken. Okay, this is interesting. So he sends them anonymously because he doesn't want trouble. Huh. Okay. Mr. Martin was astonished when he saw the pictures. In his next visit, Mr. B mentioned that they had received an envelope and described its contents. I acted as though I was totally uninterested in what he was saying. Then Mr. B asked something that left me speechless. Did you send them? I told him that it wasn't me and that he was being ridiculous. He wasn't satisfied, so he kept digging. Again, I begged him to leave me alone. That day, he was irritated when he left and the next time he came around was strictly as a client, so I therefore treated him with the same courtesy and friendliness I treat all of my clients. I found it strange he didn't bring up subject. The next couple of days, he only drove by and waved. He looked at me anxiously, but did not stop the car. He couldn't resist for long, though. So, again, one day, he stopped. He again mentioned the subject and that the editor wanted to meet me. There were other clients at the time and I felt a little embarrassed. I didn't like the matter being discussed in front of them. Mr. B kept talking about flying saucers and asking me to accept his offers. He insisted I talk to the editor. To get rid of him, I agreed to talk to Mr. Martin. After hearing this, he got in his car and took off as if a thousand demons were chasing after him. The people asked me who this maniac was. They said he looked mentally unstable and dangerous. I mean, it's so funny because clearly Amore's got like a bone to pick with this guy. Maybe we'll find out why, probably justified, but he's painting him in like the most negative light, like his beggar appearance, his obeseness, his like his pushy nature and sort of his mental instability, all pretty, um, you know, vivid depictions of someone you would not want to be friends with. So I'm surprised he didn't use his actual name, but I guess he doesn't want to give him any, uh, credit whatsoever. By the time I got home that afternoon, I was already regretting telling Mr. B about meeting the editor. When I told everyone home, they advised me not to do it. They said by accepting to meet with the people from the magazine, I would imply that indeed, I would be able to meet with them. I would be able to meet with them. I would be able to meet with the person they were looking for. I really didn't know what to do on the one hand. I wanted to talk to someone who had knowledge on the subject, but on the other hand, I didn't want to know anything. I thought that maybe it couldn't hurt to talk to this person. I'd hear him out, but I didn't necessarily have to admit that I was the one who sent the pictures. Besides, it was a good opportunity to ask him to tell Mr. B to please leave me alone. It was a Saturday or a Sunday when Mr. Martin came by the Tamarindo. Mr. B was not with him. He came alone. When he got out of the car, I thought he was a client, so I asked him if he wanted a hot dog. He held out his hand and introduced himself. He asked me if I was Amore, the one with the pictures. Not knowing why, I said yes. Again, not knowing the reason, right there in front of my cart, I told him about my experience. I got nervous and my knees started to tremble. I even had to grab onto the cart's umbrella. I could barely contain the tears. Inevitably, I started to cry when I finally told him that I couldn't escape my nightmare after all. I couldn't deny it anymore. My mental stability was slowly leaving me like sand running through fingers. At the same time, I felt great relief while talking to Mr. Martin. It's not the same when you tell your family about your illness than when you tell it to the doctor. They wouldn't have an answer. The doctor would. I made a mistake in judging Mr. Martin based on Mr. B's behavior. They were totally different. He turned out to be a very formal and serious person in the research of the UFO phenomenon. He only searches for the truth. He knew how to listen and understand my feelings regarding my experience. He didn't speak of contradictory absurdities like his friend. He heard everything I had to say without interrupting me. After I had finished, he explained that he had studied various cases involving the lost time factor. He said not to worry, that when the time was right, I'd remember what happened during that apparent void. According to him, I was not crazy. There were hundreds of thousands of people in the world who had gone through the same thing. He said that in Puerto Rico alone, there were hundreds of cases. He assured me that if I was willing, he could put me in touch with some of these people. I told him that at the moment, I didn't feel prepared for that. I asked him to please keep the information confidential. I didn't want the matter going public in his magazine or any other media. He agreed. I also explained the current situation with his friend and his harassing behavior. Mr. Martin explained that he didn't really work for the magazine and wasn't even on the payroll. He was simply a collaborator and his job consisted merely of gathering information regarding the west side of Puerto Rico. He was one of the many that helped getting in touch with the people who have had experiences related to the phenomenon. Either way, I still asked him if he could talk to Mr. B so that he'd quit the following me around. He promised he would do so. We agreed to stay in touch, but I didn't give him my number. I told him I'd call if I wanted to talk. When he left, I felt the sensation that a great friendship had commenced. I'm sure Martin spoke to Mr. B, but now he hassled me more than ever. It bothered me to go to work, knowing that he might show up and try to get more information. He followed me everywhere. The supermarket, the beach, the car mechanic. Every street and everywhere I went, he'd become a huge threatening shadow. What's this guy's problem, Mr. B? What does B stand for, huh? Bad guy? Alright, that's all I got. I came to the conclusion that his obsession was based on the money he wanted to make off my pictures. I realized this after he started to talk about their worth. He had a thousand ideas for them. every time he mentioned the potential gains, his eyes got wider. He totally lost sight of the objective of Jorge Martin's investigation. I talked to the editor again and on multiple occasions after about his friend harassing and poor professional behavior. I never told him about his friend's real objectives and the repeated mentions of the monetary value of the pictures after being analyzed by experts. My brother Charlie and I started to talk about the baby again. We talked about the fact that there were copies of my pictures going around already but that what the CIA was after were the negatives. So when I told him that I needed to have the baby examined by doctors he opposed. He reminded me of what happened to the people who possessed this sort of graphic evidence. I told him that Mr. Martin was a very serious person and that he had promised to protect me in case anything happened. Also that I wouldn't hand over the baby without having everything on paper first. He said I should still think about it and also mentioned he felt that I should back out while there was still time. He reminded me of our grandmother's health and that she wouldn't survive another stressful event. The nightmares came back and even stronger. Starting to talk about everything again brought them back. I again started to try and remember what was what had happened during that lost time. I was always distracted at work and on top of that had other new problems. Though Mr. Martin had kept his word regarding the confidentiality of the whole matter it was not the case with Mr. B. We had agreed that if the case was mentioned at any time my identity would not be revealed. It could be discussed and analyzed yet no information regarding my identity, place of work, or home would be provided. There were people who came to the Tamarindo asking questions and commenting on matters I hadn't discussed with the general public. When I asked these people where they lived the majority said they lived in the same neighborhood as Mr. B. This wasn't just a coincidence. Mr. B started to bring different people to my home to meet me. Word got out and people started to park outside my home and sit on their cars to watch the sky and our house. This was intolerable. If I went out for any reason whatsoever they followed me in their car. They hoped something similar to what had happened to me in 1988 would repeat itself and if it did they wanted to be there and maybe even star in the whole ordeal. My grandmother was really upset with all this and I didn't tell my other aunts and uncles because they had told me to stay away from the whole UFO matter. Because of the nightmares and all the people now around the house I decided to move. I didn't want to cause any more trouble to my family. I thought of one of those curious people climbing onto our balcony and doing something crazy. I kept my grandmother up all night. When she heard me scream in the middle of the night she'd think something was wrong. I'd think something was wrong. I thought someone had broken into the house and attacked me. I immediately moved into a small room in the center of town. It was so small you could barely walk amongst my belongings. My family got to sleep again and the people left. I lied to mama. I told her my nightmares had stopped. I'd sleep at night like a trapped animal in that little room. I was walking in my uniform, a dark road, big black eyes that I ran and ran and ran. I never knew if my neighbors heard me scream at night. How could I know? I wish the nightmares would stop so that I can go back to mama's house. I hoped that one day I could leave behind those horrible nightmares. I wished that the images of beings of enormous heads chasing me down a dark misty road and of a houseboat swallowed by a violent ocean would leave me. I started to feel like I was losing my mind. But I didn't know how to go up to a doctor and tell him that I needed pills because I dreamt about extraterrestrial beings. I think that the doctor would send me to a psychiatrist and that he in turn would send me to a mental institution. I honestly think that in some of these places there might be people who have had these experiences yet no one believes them and thinks they're crazy. This was another one of my fears that something like this would happen to me. I didn't get a moment of peace. I didn't get a moment at work. To the people that approached me because of the information provided by Mr. B, I said that it wasn't true and I told them to leave me be. I felt my head was going to explode. I jumped like a rabbit at the least bit of noise. I yearned those days that I would peacefully lay in my hammock at the Tamarindo. If I ever regretted something, it was agreeing with Mr. B to meet with the editor. After giving it much thought, I gave Mr. Martin some of the negatives. My brother Charlie had sent them to me the same way I had. The computer analysis of the negatives didn't surprise. The pictures were definitively real. There were no tricks of any kind. I was given back my negatives and these were hidden. Mr. Martin introduced me to several people who had similar experiences to mine. Though at first I didn't want to meet them, I later thought this might be helpful with my nightmares. It actually did help because now I didn't feel so alone. But it wasn't until I met someone in particular that I really got better. In regards to the pictures and my experience, Mr. Martin recommended I go public with it through the various media and forms of communication. Mr. B also insisted I do so, but I still wasn't prepared for that. They told me that my evidence without a doubt demonstrated that something was going on and that the governments were covering it up. They also said there was no reason for me to care about people calling me a liar or crazy because I had the results of photographic analysis. They added that humanity had a right to know these things. I replied that their reasons were perfectly valid, but that I didn't feel ready and that the public reaction worried me. We had to think about how traumatic this information could be to a lot of people. I didn't want to be responsible for someone else's nightmares. It wasn't the right time. Mr. Martin understood my point of view. But the other one just complained about the money. He was not going to make off my pictures. After investigating my case for more than a year and having all the evidence, he kept his word and remained silent. He didn't go public. Okay, I have also done some research subsequently and eventually there was an article that came out written by Jorge Martin. I will try to find that and link it below if I have. I have found it. But alas, we do not get any resolve for the alleged pictures of the gentleman with the black hair or the grays. Really interesting. Makes me wonder, you know, because there is a key word there when Charlie, his brother in Japan, sent the photos. He said he sent me some negatives. Now, those negatives that were sent by Charlie are probably the ones we are looking at now or probably the photos we're looking at. And the ones that he didn't send might still be in a safety deposit box somewhere in Japan with a hidden key. I mean, this is like, imagine getting your hand on those photos. I just want to see them, you know. I understand his reluctance. But I also don't think that at the time when he wrote this versus I think because he wrote that, I think this was 2011. But I think a lot has happened in those 15 years to where now we might be ready for something like that, you know, or at least because even that photo, even the negatives of a gray alien wouldn't be disclosure. Some people would still argue against it. They would still say they're fake. Say I. It was a prop. It was a puppet. What have you. I mean, that would that would be that would be a nice propel fitness water with Gatorade electrolytes, zero sugar and vitamins propel hydrates better than water to help you get the most out of your workout and get back to your best self. What propels you propel with Gatorade electrolytes? This Labor Day at Lowe's get up to 45 percent off select major appliances. Plus deals. Lowe's on select materials and tools to keep the job moving right now. When you buy a select DeWalt 20 volt max tool at Lowe's, we have what you need to keep your job moving. Valid through 913 while supplies last. See Lowe's dot com for more details. Bit of confirmation, but alas, I also got to respect him for doing what he did. In the manner that he did it, I think. You know, it makes me admire this character. As he truly isn't out to seek any type of fame, obviously living off the grid right now and kind of, you know, he gave us pictures. What more do you want? He gave us the story, gave us pictures. Here you go. Have at it. Have a field day. Now leave me alone. And I got to respect that. So, yeah. Shout out to Amore Rivera for watching this. Big fan. And would love to have a conversation with you, even off air. Would be a real pleasure. Folks, what do you. I'd love to hear your thoughts. thoughts on this little story now i know that there probably is more there definitely is more of the book i wonder myself if eventually they do end up talking about the giant triangular craft sighting i wonder who this other positive being in his life will be i wonder how he ends up unlocking these memories because as of you know as far as we are in the story as far as i know these memories haven't come back yet he hasn't recalled the projections that he was given or anything else and so i wonder if that comes through hypnotherapy or through dreams or through just an epiphany in a waking state i'm curious about it and i will continue to read it but i don't know if i'll do that on this channel um the only way that i can know this is part three so we we can ask the audience um let's say if the if this video reaches 15 000 likes then i'll do a part four um but if not then i'll take it as as as there aren't that many people who made it this far into the video who want to see it you know go further but i would i wouldn't mind let me know if you're interested i'm certainly going to continue reading this story on my own um and i encourage you to do the same but if you want you know to have a go at it i'm going to do it on my own and i'm going to do it on my own read here on the channel just let me know folks once again i'm going to just remind you check out it's probably nothing.com i look forward to seeing you meeting you in person the vip tickets are almost sold out those go pretty fast so you want to check those out i know you get a challenge coin you get uh meet and greet you get a poster it's a really cool experience and you get a good seat to boot so have a look at that check out area 52.shop where we are currently you know stocking up on all sorts of things and i'll see you in the next video bye bye of stuff we got the invisible college drop we got the majestic a cigarette like incense that you can you know burn up and have your home smelling like good vibes and sage we got all sorts of stuff happening there as well thank you so much for watching we'll see you on the next video peace and love you