Brian Scott - The Reality Revolution: The Mind-Blowing Movement to Hack Your Reality

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Copyright 2020 Brian Scott

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-5445-0619-7

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Contents

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Warning: This is not your normal book. What follows could drastically change your thoughts, beliefs, and life. Proceed with caution.

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I know I was born and I know that Ill die. The in between is mine.

Eddie Vedder

The night my home team won the Superbowl (go Broncos!), someone broke into my home and shot me. Or rather, a version of them shot a version of me.

Ill explain.

The logistics of my story are not uncommon. It was an attempted burglary gone wrong. I heard scratching at the back door and thought it was my cat, but when I opened it, right in front of me stood a kid in a hoodie. He was in the act of breaking into my home, and held a gun pointed directly at me. He fired a shot. I turned and ran back into the house, called the cops, and the whole thing ended with a bullet bouncing off my back. Im lucky to be alive.

As anyone who has lived through a traumatic event knows, no matter how straightforward the facts are, the experience itself is never simple and the details rarely feel commonplace. But I believe theres even more to it than that. In fact, I believe that each moment in time is much more than it appears to be. To explain, I want you to first understand what actually happened that night.

When I went to the door, still riding that post-Superbowl high, I was just worried about my cat. My cat had only ever been indoors, and one of my nightmares is that I will accidentally let him out and into danger. My fenced backyard has a pool, and beyond that is a park. So, when I heard an odd scratching at the sliding back doorone of those doors that cant be opened or closed without a good amount of leverageI didnt think twice about the voice in my head telling me, Get up. You need to get up. I figured it was just the voice of concern for my cat speaking, and in the excitement of the evening, the cat must have somehow gotten out.

At the prompting of that inner voice, I shuffled over to the door, still half-listening to the recaps and news broadcasts singing the Broncos praise. When I looked up, I was stunned to see there was a gun in my face.

Now the voice told me, Shut the door, and again I listened. Everything seemed to slow down from there. I heaved the doubled-paned glass door shut and turned to run. A pop sounded as the .22 pistol unleashed a bullet that shattered both layers of glass. I could hear each layer of glass crack in slow motion. I let go and found a neutral place inside of me, as if I was observing it from afar. I ran without stopping to think about what direction I should run in. Somehow, I already knew.

I felt something bump against my back as I ran to my bedroom, and when I got there, I realized that I wasnt alone. I was in the middle of a home invasion robbery, and someone else had come in through my bedroom.

He started shooting at me. I could feel the heat and see a flash of metal as a bullet crossed in front of my eyes and hit the wall, then three or four more flew behind me as I ran once again, this time toward the garage. From there, I was able to hide and call the police, worried all the while that the intruders would find me hiding in the garage.

When they arrived, the police saw blood on my back and immediately sent me to the hospital. There, I found out that the bullet that had gone through two panes of glass, found its way to my back, and bounced off of it. It was a miracle.

I had been given a second chance. I thought about what that might mean. I thought about my kids, the life I had led up to that point, and whether or not I had done anything to deserve this second chance.

When I peel back the layers of that night and all of the thoughts that were running through my head simultaneously, I now realize that something else was happening too. The thing that was happening wasnt just adrenaline and fear or gratitude and a sense of mortality. It felt like I was living through a memory. It felt like I had already gone through all of this before, and I could see different versions of myself in those moments, each with different outcomes. Im not talking about running through potential scenariosit felt like I was actually remembering those experiences that hadnt happened and seeing them play out.

I could see myself lying in a pool of blood. I could see myself crawling over to the kitchen table and being hit by another bullet. I dont know any other way to describe this than by explaining to you that none of this was the result of fear; it was experience. I intricately knew about all the possible realities that could play out before me as if they were real. All the versions of me looked real, as if I could walk over and touch them.

The ambulance took me to the hospital in the same state I had been in when I was watching TVin my boxersso I had no wallet, no ID, and no clothes with me at the hospital. Since I didnt have any serious injuries, they discharged me that same night. I called an Uber and went home in slippers and a paper gown from the hospital.

When the Uber dropped me off, I realized that the cul-de-sac where I lived had been cordoned off. Helicopters flew overhead, cops held K-9s at the end of harnesses, and a standoff was in progress. I started toward my driveway, only to be stopped at the barricade. The police told me there was a hostage situation in place. They had traced the culprits back to a house across the street, where the whole ruined escapade was ending in a shambles. Standing there half-naked on the wrong side of the yellow caution tape, without any way to prove who I was, I just wanted to get back into my house and check on my cat (luckily, he decided to stick around!).

When the dust finally settled and everything was back in place, I realized that nothing was back in place at all. Things just seemedoff. At first, I blew it off. I thought I might be experiencing some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder that made everything seem a little strangebut enough oddities and reality shifts started to pile up that I could no longer ignore them.

Lots of stuff had changed. My kids were different. I noticed a lamp in the corner of the room that I did not remember buying. People called me acting as if we had talked just a few days before, when I had not spoken to them in years. There was suddenly an old building on the corner where there had previously been an empty lot. These are only some of the numerous shifts in my reality that were impossible to ignore.

Something had happened, though. A reality shift had happened. Previous to this incident I had been toying with and hoping to discover reality shifts, but I had no real concept of what they would actually mean.

I began to think that my near-death experience had been enough to propel me into a significantly different reality, but my scientific mind needed proof.

Had I written that sentence fifty or even twenty years ago, you would probably think I was insane. Perhaps even today you might wonder if Im a little off (although, if that were the case, you probably wouldnt be reading this book).

Conversations about parallel realities are becoming more and more commonplace as people notice little shifts in their memories. Things that seem to be concrete memories for millions of people are supposedly not true. Im talking about seemingly little details like this. Despite what you know you remember, it is fact that Captain Crunch cereal has always been Capn Crunch, Jiffy peanut butter has always been Jif, and Ed McMahon never worked for Publishers Clearinghouse. Theres even a name for instances like this when you know you remember something, only to find out that it is incorrect or never happened; its called the Mandela Effect.