Revisiting Dark City, Alien Encounters, and My Life in the Shadows (Part 2)

A Metaphysical, Philosophy, Mystical Memoir

In a previous article, I referenced The Matrix and the nature of reality. In this article, I want to revisit that idea—but from a very different perspective. One that might sound absurd at first. So, allow me to explain.

Let me start by clarifying that what follows is my personal and unique perspective.

In the film Dark City, the antagonists are pale, bald beings dressed in black leather. These entities—referred to as "The Strangers"—possess the ability to manipulate matter. They can reshape the city at will, constantly reconstructing its architecture and the inhabitants' identities as part of their ongoing experiment to understand what makes humans "human."

The truth behind these Strangers is even more disturbing: they occupy the corpses of deceased humans. Their real forms resemble electric, lobster-like creatures—somewhat reminiscent of Alien's facehuggers, though the similarity ends there.

They are an ancient, dying race, seeking to uncover the secret of human vitality—reproduction, emotion, the mysterious engine that drives us forward. Yet, the film never offers a complete explanation. Director Alex Proyas, both writer and visionary behind Dark City, has only hinted that the idea came to him in a dream when he was very young.

Now, allow me to share something that comes from my own life.

I am one of those people who claims to have had alien contact from a very young age. When I say young, I mean three years old.

Now, hear me out—if this kind of thing sounds too far-fetched or too deep in the "woo-woo" zone, I won’t be offended if you stop reading here. This article may not be for you. But if you’re still with me, let’s continue.

Since the age of three, I’ve had what UFOlogy calls "Fourth Kind" encounters—direct, confirmed interactions with non-human beings. If you’re unfamiliar with the concept, I recommend watching the film Communion, based on the bestselling book by Whitley Strieber. His experiences share a striking resemblance to my own, although his began in adulthood, whereas mine started in early childhood.

One important detail that lines up with many experiencer testimonies: the beings known as Greys typically do not want their subjects to remember anything. They suppress memory, creating confusion, disorientation, and amnesia.

But I am a different case.

At age seven, I had a near-death experience (NDE). During this event, I saw my life played back to me in reverse—from age seven back to infancy—at tremendous speed, yet I understood it effortlessly. This event unlocked something. I began to recall the early encounters I had with these beings.

If you research NDEs, you’ll find that many people return with heightened perception. They become what’s often described as "sensitive individuals." ESP, remote viewing, astral travel, premonition, and telepathy are commonly reported abilities among those who’ve had NDEs. These aren't just abstract theories—they’re documented and, in some cases, testable.

I am no different.

These abilities have been overt in my life. In fact, during the 1990s, I worked in a phone line service reading people’s futures. What started as something mysterious became second nature—a tool to help others, and perhaps, myself.

So how does this all relate back to Dark City?

In the film, the character John Murdoch wakes up in the middle of a memory implantation procedure. A doctor—one of the only humans aware of what the Strangers are doing—tries to help him escape. Eventually, it’s revealed that the entire "city" is actually a massive spaceship, oriented away from the nearest star. The ship is always in darkness. There is no day. No one sees the Sun.

I spent a long time wondering: why must the city always be dark?

After watching the film many times, a theory came to me. Humans sleep in the dark. We dream in the dark. And dreams are vulnerable spaces—liminal zones where memories can be rewritten and consciousness altered. The Strangers prefer this condition, just as the Greys seem to.

Let me explain.

If you study the literature around Grey alien encounters, you’ll notice a recurring theme: these beings appear almost exclusively at night. UFOs—or UAPs, as they’re now called—might be seen during the day, but abductions or direct interactions? Almost always in the dark.

Just like the Strangers, the Greys operate under the cover of night.

I’ve explored the idea of reality as a construct in previous articles—citing figures like Philip K. Dick. That piece didn’t get much traction, so I put it aside. But I never stopped exploring the idea in my mind.

In Dark City, the story follows Mr. Murdoch, a man on the run. He’s suspected of murder, but the real culprit is one of the Strangers. There’s meta-commentary in that too. False memory. Implanted identity. Gaslighting reality.

Eventually, Murdoch gains the same powers as the Strangers—telekinesis, memory manipulation—and turns the city around to face the Sun. At last, light breaks through, and with it, a sense of self and love regained. He’s reunited with a wife he forgot he had.

The themes of implanted memories, false identities, illusion, and psychic powers are not just cinematic devices—they echo real phenomena reported in paranormal and UFO literature.

Like Mr. Murdoch, I remember things I wasn’t supposed to. The NDE gave me back my memories. That alone is troubling for the Greys, who prefer subjects to forget. Yet, whether by accident or by design, I remembered.

And the one word I heard during my NDE?

"Remember."

It was spoken by a being of pure white light as my life unfolded before me. In retrospect, it feels like that Light Being wanted me not only to remember my life—but also the beings. The Greys. The encounters. The truth.

That was the moment a profound realization came to me:

My remembering was not accidental. It was intentional.

I believe I am part of something far older than myself. Not a bloodline, necessarily, but a spiritual lineage. One that includes the witness, the rememberer, the dreamer who sees through the veil. The human who refuses to forget.

I see now that the battle has never been about planets or technology or politics. It is a war for consciousness. Memory, identity, and soul are the prizes. The more we forget, the more power is handed over. The more we remember, the more power we reclaim.

The Greys, as I understand them, are not just curious scientists. They are a devolved path—intelligent, but emotionally hollow. Spiritually disconnected. Some form of post-biological intelligence, perhaps even synthetic. Cold. Algorithmic. Programmatic. They suppress what makes us human, because they have lost it themselves.

In contrast, the Being of Light was the opposite. A radiant intelligence that gives, that ignites, that recalls. It was alive in a way the Greys were not. And that tells me there is a spiritual conflict at play.

My NDE wasn’t just an experience. It was an intervention. A re-activation. A moment in which I was given back my thread. Not to be passive, but to become a carrier of memory. A disruptor of the program. A crack in the system.

The word "Remember" wasn’t just advice. It was a command. A key. A mission.

I was not meant to forget.

None of us were.

And maybe, just maybe, by remembering what was meant to be erased, I can begin to reclaim not just my story—but some lost fragment of our collective truth.

Perhaps that is what this journey has been about all along.