Why Do Black People in Other Dimensions Look More Accomplished and Nourished? By General NobuNaga.

I clearly remember one particular occasion. This is actually a subject I don't even really want to share with the public. I don't want to get into the business of convincing anybody that I experienced what I experienced. People will either believe me or they won't. Some people don't believe their own parents, and some don't even believe themselves. I'm not interested in debating anyone.

And yet, for whatever reason, I have this feeling that I need to put some of this into the public arena. That's why I generally say: no debate. Where I can, I block replies and comments. I don't give a fuck. I'm not trying to convince anybody.

What I've been thinking about this morning is something I remember from what I can only describe as a visit to another world, another dimension, or perhaps a parallel universe. I know how strange and "woo-woo" that sounds. I don't particularly care. I'm describing what I remember.

On one occasion, I remember finding myself in a place that's best described by me as something familiar from London.

If you're familiar with London, you might remember the old McDonald's around King's Road in Hammersmith, just before the shopping centre. In this other place, there seemed to be something resembling that location. It wasn't exactly the same, and the furniture and interior were different, but there was something unmistakably familiar about the overall setting.

One of the things that immediately caught my attention was that there was an underground escalator or passage. The Earth version of the location didn't have that. I remember being at the top when some people came up from the escalator and met me there.

We briefly went somewhere that was more like a coffee shop inside a McDonald's. I didn't have any luggage or anything with me. We simply sat there for a while.

But I was paying attention.

When I'm out of body—or when I believe I am—I tend to investigate. I'm a researcher by nature. I try to remember details so that, when I come back into my body, I can compare what I experienced with what I know about the physical world. I want to see whether I can validate something, debunk it, or at least identify where my memory may have filled in the gaps.

There were also several occasions when I seemed to arrive in this same general place.

The first time, I remember wanting to get back to Earth because I understood that something had gone wrong. It felt almost like I had dialled the wrong number on the way back from a dream. I had projected somewhere I wasn't supposed to be.

The same thing happened a second time.

The third time, I thought: to hell with this. I'm going to explore the place instead of immediately trying to get back.

I'm not going to get into the technicalities of those experiences here. What interests me is something much simpler.

The landscape was slightly different.

I've noticed differences around that particular location more than once—four, five, six, seven times, perhaps even more. I've often put these observations down to dreams. But the differences were consistent enough that I noticed them.

The road itself seemed different. A junction that feels relatively minor on Earth appeared to be a major crossroads in this other environment. The proportions, the importance of the location, and even aspects of the surrounding landscape seemed subtly altered.

And then there is the thing that really got me thinking this morning.

Why did the Black people I encountered in these experiences seem to look different from Black people here?

They looked like me. They were recognisably Black. But there was something about their appearance that I have difficulty putting into words.

The closest comparison I can make is the difference between a photograph printed in England and a photograph printed in America using ordinary commercial printing. The American image can sometimes look slightly more glossy, richer and more polished, whereas the British one can look a little drier and closer to what I would call reality.

I'm not saying one is more real than the other. I'm talking about the visual quality.

That's how these people appeared to me.

Their skin seemed to have a very subtle gloss to it—a tiny suggestion of grey or silver within the black, almost like the surface was reflecting more light. Not metallic. Not artificial. Just unusually luminous.

And they seemed healthier somehow.

More nourished.

More accomplished.

That's the word I keep coming back to: nourished.

It wasn't simply that they were attractive. There seemed to be something about their physical presence that suggested better nutrition, better health, better circumstances—or perhaps simply a different visual rendering of the human body.

So why?

Why would Black people in these experiences appear to me as though they were slightly glossier, healthier, more nourished and more accomplished versions of the people I encounter here?

Maybe the answer is completely internal.

Maybe it's my memory.

Maybe the brain reconstructs faces during dreams and altered states of consciousness using symbolic associations, and what I'm remembering as a physical difference was actually an emotional or psychological impression.

Maybe my brain associates health, prosperity, confidence and wellbeing with particular visual qualities—skin luminosity, posture, facial symmetry, clothing, colour, lighting—and those qualities became exaggerated in the experience.

It could also be that the environment itself had different lighting. A different atmosphere, colour spectrum, contrast, or even imagined physics could make dark skin appear more reflective or luminous. If the experience was dream-generated, the brain could simply have rendered people differently.

There's another possibility that interests me.

Perhaps I wasn't actually seeing "better" Black people at all.

Perhaps I was seeing Blackness without some of the environmental conditions that I associate with Black people on Earth.

In other words, maybe what I interpreted as being more nourished or accomplished wasn't something inherent in the people themselves. Maybe it represented a different environment: different health, different economics, different social conditions, different history, different technology, different sunlight, different nutrition—or simply a different psychological state.

And if these experiences really were perceptions of another reality rather than dreams, then there is an even stranger question.

Would different versions of Earth produce different-looking populations?

Would differences in environment, history, genetics, nutrition, atmosphere or even the physical laws of that world produce subtle differences in how human beings appear?

I don't know.

I'm not presenting this as proof of another dimension. I'm not asking anyone to believe me.

I'm documenting an observation.

I've had enough experiences that I don't feel the need to manufacture certainty where I don't have it. I can say what I remember, distinguish it from what I think it might mean, and leave the question open.

What I remember is this:

In these experiences, the Black people looked like us—but somehow more luminous.

More polished.

More nourished.

And I've noticed it enough times that I keep wondering why.