I'm from Pennsylvania. I have had a
couple experiences in my life. The most
recent one, I had gone to bed and um I
woke up standing in my living room
looking out the uh the Big Bay living
room windows and they have a crank open
and the one on the right was opened 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 I realized I I
couldn't move.
And I see this really tall
being walking out of the darkness
towards the uh the window that is open.
This thing was as tall as the window.
So, it had to have been 9 ft tall, maybe
8 ft 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 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 Amorei
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 Grays,
not only did he interact with a
humanlike 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
uh 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, shows
them 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
yet. 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 itsprobably.com.
I'm going to be hitting the stage at a
theater near you and joined by several
co-hosts along the way. 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 faces
in the community that you'll surely
recognize, but will 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
vet prior. So, once you buy your
tickets, uh 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, uh,
we uploaded the Montreal show featuring
George St. Pierre there. You can check
that out, but tickets are on sale. It's
probably nothing.com. And folks, one
more thing, a quick word from the
sponsors that help make this show
possible. You know, one thing that
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with code area52 for 15% off. All right,
folks. We paid the bills. 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 uh eupfologist or UFO
researcher known as Jorge Martin uh 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 F14s. 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 one 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. Eyewitness
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 Amorei. Now, what I found
interesting is that he did mention that
these craft have wedge type pieces. Like
um 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 mother ship? Now
eventually uh 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 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 were 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 really. 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 uh footage
videos, compiles it, puts it on there. I
can't 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 uh 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 eupfology 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 uh, you know, chime in on your
own ideas so they don't get lost in the
sauce here on YouTube or on Spotify.
Chapter 8, we begin, folks. It It's
early in the morning. What time is it
here? 8:30.
Feeling good. Feeling alive. Feeling
pumped.
Let's check in with Amorei.
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 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 you have to, you know, we
have a life to live. There's bills to
pay. There's jobs. There's, you know,
you got to maintain relationships and
see the world.
It's kind of 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 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 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, 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'd 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. Couldn't believe the
places I'd picked were now occupied. Out
of frustration, I wanted to go home,
forget about it for a while.
My cousin suggested we go to the beach,
El Kombbate.
Though I was disillusioned, I agreed.
Maybe with a little luck, I'd be able to
find a spot alongside the other vendors.
Speech in particular is full of vendors
who sell all kinds of food.
On our way over there, I stopped at the
road 301.
They 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
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 hibaro 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 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
buried. From my hammock, I could see
mountains. Later, I learned they're
called Sieras Bhas.
Now, this is interesting because the
Sieras Bhas 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
Arenas. 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.
Even lets me leave my cart in his house
so 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. Told the
congregation what he was seeing.
They told him that the object in the sky
was a work of Satan. After this, they
prayed with ferveny. "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 seeing that 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 Cababro.
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 for 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 call 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 that, I decided to just
remove the picture and put it back in my
bedroom drawer. The drawer of oblivion.
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 b 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. You know,
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 uh 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." Ra
tell me without telling me that you
don't read 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 audio books. 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. Uh 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 archally 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 out of
your life, every waking moment to write
something for free and then what?
Massouroduce it and give it away for
free as well. Like, I don't understand.
Uh, it's a it's a 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 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 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 the in the refrigerator what 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 Jehovah's Witness
or 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 Amorei Rivera Toro?
My answer was only yes.
Their arrogance and authoritative
attitude intimidated me. The one in a
suit handed me some documents. Mama
disregarded 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 A. While I was trying
to read the documents, the man with a
tie told me that it's best if I handed
him the negatives.
I looked at him trying to conceal my
nervousness.
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 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 them I didn't know
what they were 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. He 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
the television and turning it off.
So, first of all, let's take a little
pause here. Uh, Men in Black just showed
up. You know, this is clearly the Men in
Black description. Now, what's
interesting is that the men the man in
question here with the tie is joined by
three other casually dressed men.
And one thing that Amorei 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. Um, nothing about their
height. You know, a lot of times you
hear these stories with the men in black
and you these tall gauntlooking 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 uh 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 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 and he was just
kind of like I need to do this.
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 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 uh theory crafting
based on what we're hearing.
Even though I was extremely nervous
inside, I was laughing. 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 gayaber.
A guya 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.
So, one of them who wore a guya
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, and 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 and 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 in Cabaroho. 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
pictures in the doghouse. 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 kind of I mean that's where my
head's at too. I feel like that is there
there there seems to be some
intervention and and you know what the
origin of that is I don't know.
since we were all gathered together. By
the way, there is a story somebody uh
who told me this.
This was a story as I was speaking to
Ross Coltart 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. Uh, but
this one case was when a gentleman was
outside. I think he was enjoying a
cigarette and uh looks up, sees a giant
triangular craft type deal, takes his
phone out, snaps a the clearest picture,
like
100% disclosure, like this is the
clearest picture. You could see every
detail in this craft type deal. And uh
he calls his brother and this is how it
was corroborated because he ends up
calling his brother and telling him
about it. I have the clearest photo.
Like it's 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 photo 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 part for the course
when it comes to this stuff. There seems
to be something else at play here that
is controlling
disclosure from the inside. As they say,
the call is coming from in inside the
house.
like the NHI are collaborating with some
faction of the government to
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 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,
you know, 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 Amorei cuz um
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 Japan 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
Paritos, 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
uh he had where he was stationed.
After all this, when we talked on the
phone and we talk about the pictures, we
would refer to them as the baby. How is
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
Amorei 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 I want to see a movie
made of this uh 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 to say, Amorei 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.
Few years went by without problems,
except for those common everyday life
ones like paying the bills and 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. 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 got to
say, you know, Amorei sounds like a very
reasonable person here. And he sounds
like he's got his head screwed well onto
his shoulders, enjoying life, doesn't
care about money.
If you're out there, Amorei, and you're
listening to this, you know, reach out.
I think I've reached out to you. who
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 graycoled car
parked there. I started to set up as
usual. I noticed that inside that old
car 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 we he was
parked.
What did he want? Who was he? 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. And
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 lost focus on
what I was doing. He then got in his car
and left. He had ruined my whole day. I
spend 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 Cosmin.
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 news
stand to buy one of the local
newspapers,
El Vero.
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 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'd 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. be 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 Sieras Bhas, 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 ET 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. My hot dog cart was
nowhere to be found. With me was a local
dog named Flaka. 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 shoulderlength hair. He wore it
back like an Indian. I didn't remember
feeling scared. This younglook 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
before, but I 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 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. Be's constant harassment about
the pictures and him wanting me to talk
to Mr. Martin. Now what's interesting
here is
dreams
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 nonwaking 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 do uh 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 they're
ethereal. They're just hard to measure.
And
you know, we kind of neglect them for
the most part as a 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 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
uh, you know, 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, uh, get your
sleep, get your rest so you can, you
know, 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 it would
only cause me trouble. He also reminded
me of what happened with the CIA.
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. be 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.
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 I I mean, it's so funny because um
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 obesess,
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 was 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, 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 Amorei,
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. Be'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 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, through 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. All right, it'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 cuz 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. Thought of one of
those curious people climbing onto our
balcony and doing something crazy. Kept
my grandmother up all night.
When she heard me scream in the middle
of the night, she'd think 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 hope 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's peace at work.
To the people that approached me because
of the information provided by Mr. B, I
said that it wasn't true and and I told
them to leave me be. I felt my head was
going to explode.
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 that 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 I
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 uh
Jorge Martin. I will try to find that
and link it below if 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 cuz he
wrote I think this was 2011, but I think
a lot has happened in the in in those 15
years to where now
we might be ready for something like
that, you know, or at least because even
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. It's AI. It was a prop. It
was a puppet. What have you. But for
those of us who are on this journey
seeking the truth,
I mean, that would that would be that
would be a nice
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 it it makes me admire this
character
as uh 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. He gave us pictures. Here you go.
Have at it. Have a field day now. Leave
me alone. And uh I got to respect that.
So yeah, shout out to Amorei Rivera if
you're watching this. Uh big fan. and uh
would love to have a conversation with
you even off air. Would be a real
pleasure. Uh folks,
what do you I'd love to hear your
thoughts on this little story. Now, I
know that there probably is more. There
definitely is more to 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 uh
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, an
awakening 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 can we can ask the
audience.
Um, let's say if this 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.
Um, 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 it read here on the channel, just
let me know.
Folks, once again, I'm going to just
remind you, check out it'sprobably
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 a 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
Area52.shop where we are currently, you
know, stocking up on all sorts of stuff.
We got the invisible college drop. We
got the majestic cigarette like incense
that you can, you know, burn up and have
your home smelling like good vibes and
sage. Uh, 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. Heat. Heat.