Cabrerizo

Finally, I have published on Amazon the novel about ITC "A next world", which in Spanish I have titled as "El mundo siguiente". Below, I include the corresponding links: https://www.amazon.es/MUNDO-SIGUIENTE-MIGUEL-GARCÍA-CABRERIZO/dp/B0BMJ4J7W1/ref=sr_1_1?__mk_es_ES=ÅMÅŽÕÑ&crid=27M47ZV1ZBLRR&keywords=el+mundo+siguiente&qid=1673006771&sprefix=el+mundo+siguiente%2Caps%2C135&sr=8-1 https://www.amazon.com/-/es/MIGUEL-ÁNGEL-GARCÍA-CABRERIZO-ebook/dp/B0BR5LM1QT/ref=sr_1_1?__mk_es_US=ÅMÅŽÕÑ&crid=2XT3Z24AB7J5S&keywords=A+next+world+miguel&qid=1673006836&sprefix=a+next+world+miguel%2Caps%2C196&sr=8-1 I would like to thank the guidance of some members of Varanormal.com and, in particular, to Andres Ramos for his kind critical comments about the English-language edition. I hope you enjoy reading it, and send me your sincere opinion. Thank you very much. Greetings. Cabrerizo.

Kevin and Karyn. Thank you both very much for all that interesting information, which I don't know if I will be able to assimilate. Hug.

Thank you very much, Andres. I know you are always very busy and today is Saturday!!. Take a break or I'll feel guilty. For that reason, it is much more valuable to me that you can spend some time answering those questions that intrigue me so much. I have already written 11 chapters (92 pages) of my novel and it is difficult for me and it would seem immoral to invent some answers without a documented basis. I have read stuff but I would like to get information from much more knowledgeable and enlightened people than myself. Of course I will consult the document you have indicated to me. I encourage other Varanormal users to lend me their help. I don't have a special urgency to publish the novel, but, if in the end I do, I trust that it will have some credibility, although I am very aware that the vast majority of people are not interested in the slightest that communication with the deceased is talked about. I can't understand it and I'm glad I'm not the only one, even if they don't pay much attention to us. A big hug, dear Andres.

Dear friends: Based on my psychophonic experiences, which are not many, and as far as I have been able to document myself on the subject, I have started working on writing a novel, whose plot is related to the ITC. I think that one of the ways that communication with "entities" from another dimension could attract the interest of society, could be to try reading a book written in simple language and easily understood by people. Thus, perhaps it will improve the understanding of the great work that is being done by both parties, our researchers and their technicians, to make that transcommunication easier and more beneficial. In that sense, I request your collaboration so that you can provide me with information currently available about the following questions that the protagonist of the novel would like to ask the entities he contacts in "the next world". Please, do not hesitate to fill with your replies the empty spaces that I left among the questions. Thank you very much. What place are you in? Are you energy? Do you have any kind of body? Are you happy there? Are the previous family ties maintained? Can you have your own new family? Is the property working and does it exist? Do you retain the identity you possessed in the previous life? Can you go up on an existential level? Is there a maximum deadline for this? Is permission available to repeat the experience on Earth again? Is there a God? Have you seen, heard or felt him? Have you communicated with relatives or friends who have also died?

Thank you very much Karyn, for your comments. Kind regards. Cabrerizo.

I do not have much experience about the recording of psychophonies, but I have observed that, when an experimenter shows an intense sincere desire to contact "the next world", with the sole intention of confirming his own intuition that this world may be real, contact will be achieved, although, depending on the material means available, the interpretation of the messages will be more or less difficult. It is something beautiful and unspeakable to recognize the voice, the way of expressing oneself and the feeling manifested by an entity that you knew well in this life and that is no longer among us. And it is even more beautiful to be able to open a communication channel with that person through a radio frequency and with the only help of a smartphone that acts as a recording instrument of those "voices". However, when that initial attitude is perverted and the ego comes into play, communication can break down. It is very easy to fall into the trap that one's self has suddenly become someone special, capable of maintaining a direct thread with the "beyond". And the others don't. Then, you begin to inform everyone of that quality that you have just discovered in you, starting with the closest circles, trying to get others to confirm what you already know, without realizing that these messages can have a deeply selective character and that only you are enabled to listen and interpret them. A huge feeling of guilt and intense loneliness will overwhelm you when you realize that others are not listening to what you say you hear. When you see that you are alone with your recordings and your interlocutor or interlocutors in "the next world" have been betrayed by your craving for notoriety. When what was an attempt at private conversation has become something public, an area in which others were not invited or concerned. That's when the channel breaks and in the next recording attempts you hear only "No", "No", "No". The temptation to give up at that moment is very great and the feeling of shame too. You think that no one will listen to you in the other dimension anymore and it is very likely that this will be the case in the future. Fortunately, there is forgiveness. If there love is unconditional, show an apology at your next contact. Solemnly promise that you will not use such a conversation to exalt yourself, and if that is really so, the channel will reopen. Therefore, I suggest to all those who, not for fun, but out of an authentic desire to seek the truth, try to contact friends or loved ones, to ask for express and prior permission when making their findings known to others. Only in this way, with that authorization, will they be able to advance in the reliable verification that "the entities" are there to communicate with us and try to help us. Greetings.

I do not have much experience in this field, but I have observed that, when an experimenter shows an intense sincere desire to contact "the next world", with the sole intention of confirming his own intuition that this world may be real, contact will be achieved, although, depending on the material means available, the interpretation of the messages will be more or less difficult. It is something beautiful and unspeakable to recognize the voice, the way of expressing oneself and the feeling manifested by an entity that you knew well in this life and that is no longer among us. And it is even more beautiful to be able to open a communication channel with that person through a radio frequency and with the only help of a smartphone that acts as a recording instrument of those "voices". However, when that initial attitude is perverted and the ego comes into play, communication can break down. It is very easy to fall into the trap that one's self has suddenly become someone special, capable of maintaining a direct thread with the "beyond". And the others don't. Then, you begin to inform everyone of that quality that you have just discovered in you, starting with the closest circles, trying to get others to confirm what you already know, without realizing that these messages can have a deeply selective character and that only you are enabled to listen and interpret them. A huge feeling of guilt and intense loneliness will overwhelm you when you realize that others are not listening to what you say you hear. When you see that you are alone with your recordings and your interlocutor or interlocutors in "the next world" have been betrayed by your craving for notoriety. When what was an attempt at private conversation has become something public, an area in which others were not invited or concerned. That's when the channel breaks and in the next recording attempts you hear only "No", "No", "No". The temptation to give up at that moment is very great and the feeling of shame too. You think that no one will listen to you in the other dimension anymore and it is very likely that this will be the case in the future. Fortunately, there is forgiveness. If there love is unconditional, show an apology at your next contact. Solemnly promise that you will not use such a conversation to exalt yourself, and if that is really so, the channel will reopen. Therefore, I suggest to all those who, not for fun, but out of an authentic desire to seek the truth, try to contact friends or loved ones, to ask for express and prior permission when making their findings known to others. Only in this way, with that authorization, will they be able to advance in the reliable verification that "the entities" are there to communicate with us and try to help us. Greetings.

Indeed, Andres. As Dr. David R. Hawkins very well pointed out in his books (Power against Force, Letting Go, Healing and Recovery, etc.), when our acceptance occurs and the renunciation to continue the fight, conscious, a special attunement is obtained with the Universal Consciousness, which, in my humble opinion, is who, in the end, has the floor. It is true that, sometimes, unexpected contributions can occur or, simply, we are helped to "see" the things that we are not able to perceive with our eyes.

As always, thank you very much for your comments, Andres. The event of the alleged "foo fighter" happened in 1965, I think I remember. The size of a billiard ball was the closest thing to its volume when it stood over my head. The locality: Mandayona (Guadalajara, Spain).

STRANGE LIGHTS IN THE NIGHT Arriving at the grandparents' house to spend the summer holidays there was quite an event. In those years I only had the opportunity to visit them once a year and the three months I spent in their company, fortunately, became eternal. There were so many things to discover, so much time to play, and a lot of exciting experiences to live, that the return to the big city was always painful. Also for those old people, because it would be many months before we would see each other again. The welcome they gave to my parents, me and my sisters was great. Our many uncles and cousins, as soon as they found out that we had arrived, would travel to my grandparents' house and shower us with kisses and hugs. My father always came with some gift and brought big bags of candy for boys and girls. That house seemed huge to me, it was next to the main road of the town and, from the sidewalk, you had to climb a very wide staircase, with a lot of steps, until you reached the door. A splendid corridor was giving way to the kitchen, which was the first room on the left, and then, there were several rooms, some of them interior, without a window, but with fascinating trunks, which I imagined full of fantastic and mysterious things. On the top floor there was a bedroom, a magical place where, in addition to mice, you could find hundreds of items and utensils of the most diverse, which encouraged play and a children's adventure without limits. Behind the house there was a pen with many chickens. I was almost always awakened by a rooster, the one that corresponded every year, and that, usually, was sacrificed at some moment of family celebration. The ridge, exquisite, was reserved for me for my gastronomic enjoyment. My mother had five siblings. In those days, most were single. One of them worked as a carpenter in a sawmill next to the house. Many days he invited me to enter there, so that I could see how they treated and cut the timbers. The smell of sawdust freshly fallen to the ground is an aroma that I have never forgotten. My uncle was very skilled and knew how to make all kinds of doors and furniture. Two other of my uncles were expert trout and crab fishermen and I accompanied them many times, riding one of their bicycles, when they went to the river bank. The truth is that I had neither much interest nor enough patience for that hobby to awaken in me and it seemed to me something quite boring. Until some capture took place, of course. On warm summer evenings, the whole family would leave the house after dinner to sit on that staircase, occupying most of the steps, and the elders would tell interesting things about our ancestors and life in the village. One of those nights, one of my uncles spotted a very bright white light and alerted us all to its presence. It was located in the alley that separated the carpentry from our house, about twenty or thirty meters in the opposite direction from the road and about three or four meters high above the ground. Faced with our stupefaction, that circular light, which was visible with the size of a billiard ball from the distance separating us from it, moved to another nearby location. Another of my uncles said that it was a firefly, I guess to prevent my cousin and I, who were the youngest, from getting scared. My carpenter uncle went into the sawmill and, in a minute, came out with a very long rod. He walked with her towards the light, ignoring the warnings of my mother and grandmother, who preferred that she stay away from there. When he went to touch it with the tip of the stick, again, the ball changed position to the right. I was standing, on the sidewalk, from where I could see the whole scene. Without any fear, because I was not willing to miss the smallest detail. He tried to contact her again, but that strange light shifted again. Suddenly, it overtook him over the head and placed itself on all those who were sitting on the stairs, who got up in a panic. I closed my eyes because I thought the light would come for me. When I opened them, the others were pointing at my head. I looked up and, indeed, the ball of light was a few inches above me. When I looked at it, it came out fired at enormous speed to the north and, it just disappeared. Many years passed since that until one day a text came to my hands that mentioned the "foo fighters", some mysterious flying lights that were seen by the Allied pilots, in their night missions, during the Second World War. The detection of these luminous spheres was the subject of numerous military reports from the autumn of 1941 to mid-1945. The movements of such balls seemed to be guided by a certain intelligence, because, sometimes, they followed, from far or near, the airplanes, and were placed next to their wings or in front of the fuselage, as if they were remotely controlled. They accelerated and decelerated instantly, rose and fell very quickly or remained floating in the air. Would a “foo fighter" be the luminous sphere that was playing with the members of my family, and of which I was a preferred witness at the end of the “60s” of the last century in a small village? Some four decades later, I was sitting in the courtyard of my second residence, about two o'clock on a hot morning in mid-August, entertaining myself by looking at the stars, when, from the southwest direction, just behind the house, a disc-shaped ship appeared whose base was full of multicolored lights, flying slowly low over the rooftops. From my position, the angle did not allow me to visualize it for more than a few seconds because, in front of my house, there is another one with two floors and several behind it, which prevented me from tracking the trajectory of that device from my chair. The access door to the courtyard was locked, so I rushed into the house to look for it. When I got out on the street, I ran to the right and climbed a small slope that exists there, but that ship had disappeared. At that time, there was no one in the vicinity and I assumed that there would be no witnesses who could confirm my sighting. If someone had seen something, I am convinced that, the next day, sooner rather than later, the word would have spread throughout the village. But it was not so. I never said anything and this is the first time I have given public knowledge of that unique experience. I have heard some neighbor comment that, at night, sometimes, it is possible to observe the flight of the international space station, but the height at which this occurs has nothing to do with the one carried by that alleged UFO that I saw. The last shocking event that I can testify to took place on December 24, 2021. About 23.45 hours, after the family dinner on Christmas Eve, despite the cold, together with my two sisters and my wife, I went out for a little walk through the deserted streets of the same population to which I previously referred. We took the opportunity to take a few containers to a glass container that is near the Dulce River. While one of my sisters was starting to deposit the bottles there, I noticed a yellow object flying over the street we were on, about a hundred meters away and at a relatively low altitude. One thing that can be reproached to me is that I almost never usually take my mobile with me when I go for a walk. If something happens to me and I'm alone out there, I wouldn't be able to contact anyone for help. For that reason, it was impossible for me to record what I was seeing with the phone's camera. However, one of my sisters did carry hers and, screaming, I asked her to record what she could urgently. At that moment, that object had been hidden behind an old house located in front of us. Soon, she was able to start the recording, just when that powerful golden light was lost, in a northwest direction, to the left of the building, behind the trees that mark the river. The video we have of that sighting is only 19 seconds long, but it is enough to prove that it was completely real. I am convinced that it was not an airplane. He moved at a discreet speed and made no noise in the silence of that special night, in which families are usually, at that same time, celebrating at home. Unfortunately, we couldn't find anyone nearby who could have shared our vision. We only have that partial recording of the phenomenon. Taken from my own book "Relatos junto a la chimenea" ("Stories by the fireplace").

THE SCREWS OF THE CRADLE Like many other people, I have a second residence in a town outside the province of Madrid (Spain). There, I have the opportunity to meet with numerous relatives and enjoy life outdoors, away from the hustle and bustle of the big city. We have enough space to move furniture and belongings that exceed the storage capacity of our storage room and we accumulate many objects with no apparent utility. However, we have already lent on two occasions the ash wood crib that my daughter premiered in 1991. After several years of circulating around, it was returned to us by a niece of my wife. For the purpose of its assembly, this cradle has 16 metal screws in total, 8 long and 8 shorter, all golden in color. During the transfers, those screws were inside a simple plastic bag, like the ones they deliver in supermarkets. When I received the crib completely disassembled, I noticed that bag that was tied to one of the sides, at the bottom, taken with a simple knot. The same year we received the crib, we had arranged a corral that we bought because it adjoins our house, and there are two small rooms that we use as eventual storage rooms, until we complete the reform and make the enclosure more habitable. A narrow uncemented alley separated our house from the corral, so I carried the disassembled crib under my arm and moved, not without effort, with part of the furniture dragged, to take it to one of those rooms, and there I left the crib. However, when I was going to close the door of the small cabin, I noticed that, next to the floor, there was the base of the broken plastic bag and, horror!!! not a single screw was left inside. Can you be more clumsy?, I wondered myself. I had been dragging a part of the crib through the dirt in the alley, right where the bag was, without realizing that it was dragging through the dirt and the screws were being lost. So, I went out into the alley to see if I could find them. Having a golden tint, I thought that it would not be at all complicated to locate them. So, I started to recover them, little by little. I figured it would be over soon, because there is barely twenty meters of separation between the door of my house and the corral. But it was not so. I already had 6 screws between long and short, but I couldn't see any more. That alley had not been traveled by anyone in that short period of time. I returned home and started the tour again from the same "hall" where our niece had deposited the crib when she brought it. On that little route I found three other screws in the yard, but none inside the house. In total, I already had 9 screws. I repeated the route to the corral trying to go very slowly, right through the center of the alley, just as I had done the previous time. He looked very carefully, to the right and left. In the whole tour I found 4 more screws. I was already 13, but I couldn't see any others. I went into the corral and followed to the room. I found a screw. It was already 14. Two were missing. I returned home and was not able to find any more screws. So, I told my wife what had happened to me, because until that moment I had not told her anything. She thought that, perhaps, all the screws no longer existed because, with so much racking and so many years, it was a real miracle that none had been lost. It seemed to me a good reflection and, therefore, I called our niece and asked her about the screws. He told me that, when the crib was disassembled, they were all there. She could assure him because she helped her husband to do it. I told my wife about it, and together we walked down the alley twice in the same direction and two more times each separately in the opposite direction. We found no more screws either in the alley or in our yard or in the corral. She abandoned the investigation and I literally got on all fours and, like a possessed person, I searched, inch by inch, all over the street for half an hour. In desperation, I also abandoned, as it was already lunchtime. At four o'clock in the afternoon, I returned to the load. And nothing. I confess that they made me want to cry, because I felt completely useless and I couldn't stop mentally reviewing the initial itinerary I made with the crib. Very sad, I gave up and, for the first time all that day, I accepted the situation. It was at that moment, just as I was reaching the corner of my house with the alley, that I heard an inner voice that told me: "Give God a chance." I looked down at the floor and there, together, were the two missing long gold screws. I don't know if I need to insist on it, but I swear I passed by there a lot of times, even kneeling on the ground, checking the earth inch by inch, and I can assure you that those two screws were never there. I got excited. I entered the house, I communicated to my wife what had happened to me and she did not come out of her amazement. Many times, when I walk down that alley again, I remember that experience and, since then, I no longer let myself be overcome by discouragement. I give God and the Universe a chance, if they are not the same, because I learned that both, in Unity or separately, are always there, ready to lend a hand if the occasion deserves it. (Taken from my own book published in Spanish like "Relatos junto a la chimenea" ("Stories by the Fireplace").

Thanks a lot for your comments, Karyn. But better late than never

In my humble opinion, an experimenter have to face any recording with serious respect, the sincere aim and devotion to that labour. The interpretation of the voices is a sort of art and the most of the time needs a lot of practice. But in the same way that not all of us are excellent wine expert tasters or oil expert tasters, most listeners fail to decipher the messages. Care. Not listening doesn't mean the voices aren't there. Although for the very skeptical, even a very sharp voice will always be suspected of fraud. Therefore, the credibility of the experimenter is taken as a weighty reference. By the way, I suscribe, complety, this following paragraph of GISMO5637, because I think that it could be my own case: As I can understand, direct radio voices (DRV) transmit more in-depth knowledge about the other dimension(s) instead of ordinary EVP-messages. Some experienced investigators / communicators consider that the ability to receive Electronic voices might be an innate gift or an ability ( as a reference see quotation /attached PDF-document from Robin Foy’s book ”In Pursuit of Physical Mediumship”; Janus Publishing 1996; ISBN: 1-85756-248-8). According to this document, It seems, that for some people the ability to receive EVPs is more easy than for the others and we don’t know exactly which factors are crucial and important in this process. The voices also tell us that ” contacting us (from their side) is sometimes extremely difficult for them when "energy levels" are declining.

Dear all: I am now 64 years old and, since always, I have been interested in what is related to mystery, the inexplicable and the unexplained. If I had dared during my working stage to make public the two reports like I have published on Varanormal, probably, my long professional career would have been aborted. Now, already retired, and after verifying "de motu propio" that everything I had been intuiting seems to be confirmed, I have no problem in providing information about my scarce, but sufficient for me, contacts with intelligences from another or other planes of existence. I am aware that there are those who, as a Principle of Life, prefer to keep everyone in their dimension, but this is not my case. I know that, like myself, most of you are convinced that a new life awaits us on the other side. To fight against the attacks of the sceptical is an option, but I prefer keep on riding the hard road of the psychophonic experiences ignoring to the unbelievers. The difference between they and I is that they have fear to know the truth, but not me.

The author has temporarily withdrawn his document.

The author has temporarily withdrawn his document.

The author has temporarily withdrawn his document.

Sometimes, along our life, rare things happen. I collected seven short stories in my little book STORIES BY THE FIREPLACE. I published it on Amazon.es, recently. https://www.amazon.es/gp/product/B09Y4Q921K/ref=dbs_a_def_awm_bibl_vppi_i1

The author has withdrawn this report and refers those interested to his report number 2 which completes the previous one.

The author has withdrawn this report and refers those interested to his report number 2 which completes the previous one.

Muchas gracias por tus comentarios, Alberto. Estoy convencido de que lo que estamos persiguiendo es algo grande y hermoso. Nada más y nada menos que la constatación, de la manera más fehaciente posible, de que está vida no es el final de nuestra existencia, algo que muchos hemos intuido desde hace tiempo. Cuando recoges una de esas voces en una grabación u observas formarse una imagen en una pantalla, eso te deja una marca indeleble e inolvidable que cambiará tu forma de ver las cosas de este mundo para siempre. Esa ha sido mi experiencia más reseñable de la transcomunicación instrumental. Y sólo estoy empezando. Un abrazo, Alberto.

Una vez actualizado y completado el contenido de mi Informe N° 1 sobre Experiencias Psicofónicas, incluyo el Informe N° 2. INFORME EXPERIENCIAS PSICOFÓNICAS 2 (1).pdf