Another Excerpt from the book - 1988

Twin flames, when connected on this plane, not only can share a telepathic communication, but they may experience the same emotions, feelings, and in this case pick up on what is transpiring in the other's world:

"My co-workers nicknamed me “Dangerous.” I


wasn’t sure if it was because of my forthright

efforts to tackle new technologies or something

else, but I accepted the title in jest. They were

fabulous to work with, and before long we were

asked to participate in a training program the

software company was hosting at the airport

nearby. I was past any intimidations by now

and looked forward to learning some of the new

programs to compliment the basic program.

My mind was mostly on my work, grocery

shopping, and cleaning. So I was surprised to

find myself in another nightly conversation.

So what was your day like today? What did you do?

It was fine. I was finally able to show a stuffy

accountant a demonstration. Everyone thinks I don’t

know what I’m doing when they see a tall blonde

come in to demonstrate accounting software. This

guy sized me up right away. I got a kick out of it,

though. By the end of the demonstration, I could tell

he was impressed.

(Laughing) Some people don’t know who they’re

dealing with, huh? I hate when people judge you

before they even know what you’re about.

I know. It drives me crazy.

They think they know all about you, then make up

whatever they want, and don’t bother to even find out

if it’s true.

Exactly! I know. I hate that!

I’d really like to see you sometime. You’re so sweet.

I love the way you smile.

How do you know? What’s your name anyway?

(Laughing) You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

Try me. Ok, I promise I’ll believe you. You’re not

going to tell me you’re like Jesus or somebody are

you?

No, no, I’m not Jesus (laughing). OK. Promise me

you won’t laugh. Don’t tell anybody.

I promise. Who am I going to tell? It’s not like

anyone would believe me anyway. Oh, yeah, um, by

the way, there is this man I talk to in my mind at

night. Well, no he’s really not there. I mean, we

don’t really talk, talk. It’s more like thinking. Yes,

that would be very believable. Don’t you think?

(Laughing) All right. I get it. I’m Michael Jackson.

Right, and I’m the Queen of Sheba. Really, what’s

your name?

See I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.

Really?

Yes. You’re really Michael Jackson?

Yes. See I told you. Now you don’t believe me.

Ok, I’m sorry I believe you. So . . . Michael Jackson,

are you sure? You’re not playing with me. You’re

not some wayward spirit looking for some attention

or something?

I’m sure. I know who I am. (laughing)

All right then, Michael.

I’d like to see you.

Well, if you’re really Michael Jackson, meet me

someplace.

When?

Tomorrow.

I have a show to do in a few days.

Oh, that’s right. You’re supposed to be on the

Grammy’s.

Yes!

OK. Well, I know. I have training at the airport

tomorrow night. You can just fly in, meet me for a

drink, and fly out. That way you can make it back for

your performance, OK?


OK.

Oh yeah. That’s it. At the end of the

conversation, I felt proud of myself. He thinks he

can fool me into believing he’s Michael Jackson.

Right! I laughed to myself. Guess he won’t be back

anytime soon after he’s a no show!

The next day was so busy that I gave no thought

whatsoever to the prior evening. My mind was

focused and I was excited to go to the training. I

loved to learn new things and this was just the

program to take our department to the next

level.

The training was at the airport in a conference

room. There weren’t too many of us, but the

guys I worked with were all there, and we

decided to get a drink afterward in one of the

bars there.

I guess there were about five or six of us all

together, as we sat down at a table next to the

bar area. I couldn’t wait to talk about the

training. The trainer was moving so fast I could

hardly keep up. “By time you got to the fifth F5,

F6, I was still on my first!” Like all things,

though, I had to laugh at myself. I knew it was

new, and it would only be a matter of time

before I could catch myself up to speed.   The guys laughed because they knew, too.

“Yeah, Dangerous, you’ll be F5ing and F6ing

tomorrow all day!” I smiled, because they knew

me, and I knew myself. I would F5 and F6 until

I had it. I would do it over, and over, and over,

and over, until...wait! I glanced up and noticed

a man sitting by himself at the bar, looking at

me. Our eyes locked and I couldn’t keep myself

from staring. The guys I was with had already

continued the conversation without me, and I

felt their voices fade into the background as I

pensively stared at the man sitting at the bar. He

had dark hair and dark skin, and I almost

immediately thought of the conversation the

night before. Could it be? No! It can’t be! I

thought.

The expression must have shown on my face.

Perplexed, I continued to stare as if I thought

something would come to me if I stared long

enough. But it didn’t, and I couldn’t help but sit

and stare right at him for a good ten minutes

before all the men I was sitting with noticed and

began looking, too.

My peripheral vision could see their heads

turning from him to me and back again. The

man sitting at the bar didn’t seem to notice, at

least not right away. After a few more minutes,

though, he realized all of us were staring at him.

He looked down, seemingly embarrassed, as I

continued to stare. Even though my colleagues

were looking at me strangely, I couldn’t help

myself. How could this be? Do I really think it

might be him? That he might be able to hear me? At

that thought I brought myself out of it. No. It

must just be someone who looks like him.

We continued our conversation as if nothing had

transpired and before long they were ready to

leave. We stood up to go, and I lagged back a

little, putting my cigarette out and taking my

time. I still wasn’t convinced there wasn’t

anything to this “man” at the bar. We began

walking and I thought to myself, I’ll just walk

past him slowly and see if I can feel his aura. I should

be able to feel something if it’s him.   I was sure to walk behind the others, so they

didn’t see me and began to walk very slowly

behind the man at the bar. In a moment I

stopped directly behind him and his hands were

placed on the bar. I studied them, noticing how

nicely manicured they were and how long his

fingers were, like pieces of a perfect sculpture. I

couldn’t feel anything and tried to see if he could

feel me, so I stood for a moment just a foot

behind him, watching his shoulders tense up.

He didn’t turn around, so I continued on. He

would turn around, wouldn’t he?

By the time my colleagues and I were out of the

bar, the entire thing was eating at me. I shook

my head and said to the guys, “I have to go back

in there. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I rounded the corner back in quickly,

determined to just approach him and ask his

name. I’d end it all right there, and then I’d

know for sure. Looking around, I saw no one at

the bar or the tables. He was already

gone...again.

The next day came before I knew it. I passed off

the prior night’s experience as a coincidence

again. Tonight I had plans to watch the

Grammy’s. Michael Jackson would be

performing and I knew I’d be able to see his

hands and see if they looked like the guy’s

hands I saw the prior evening.

I was pretty pleased with myself. I thought I

was smart. Thought I had it all worked out. Of

course the hands wouldn’t be the same and then

I would know it was all just a crazy fascination.

Michael’s performance began. No one

announced his moment on stage, but the crowd

grew excided as the camera panned in on a

silhouette behind a lit screen. The screen lifted

as he began to walk across the stage in exactly

the same manner and at the same speed that I

had a few months prior. Even the song was

slowed to the same tempo I had been singing.

He did a few moves and proceeded to mimic

smoking a cigarette and putting it out, like I had

done the night before. I studied his hands

carefully because now I thought perhaps it really

was him the night before. His hands were

exactly the same as the ones I saw!

I was speechless as I watched almost helplessly,

not wanting to breathe a word to anyone and

hoping my husband didn’t notice my shock as I

gazed at the television screen. That’s when I

heard him sing my name. Debbie. Was that?

My name? He continued to sing and sang it

again. Yes it is. That was my name."