January
A few days after I spent New Year’s Eve at home, I contacted Jim. I asked if he wanted to get coffee one Sunday, and he agreed. I went to Holy Mass that Sunday, and afterward, I met him at a café. Jim had recently returned from the US and had started smoking. We talked about high school and reminisced about the good times. I told him about my desire to join a monastery, and he replied that I wouldn’t be able to drink coffee or smoke there. I then told him about Mark Braun, flat Earth, the disc-shaped Sun, and the North Pole. He laughed. I couldn’t blame him; it all sounded crazy and surreal when I said it aloud. We left the café an hour later.
A few days later, I spoke with a priest from my local church about monastic life. He said it was a good path, but advised that, until I actually began living that way, I should get a job.
February
My prayer life, veganism, and desire to escape the world and live as simply as possible were at their peak. I remained in contact with the monk from the Mljet monastery, and when I told him I was vegan, he assured me it wouldn’t be a problem and that I would find something to eat. At the beginning of February, I traveled to Mljet to spend some time in the monastery. The monk and two nuns lived and prayed there. Before my trip, the monk mentioned that another person would be joining me. I boarded the bus and traveled as far as I could toward the island.
I met the other man, and we took a ferry to the island. During the trip, we discussed our perspectives on life and our religious experiences. I mostly listened as he described his trip to Slovenia to visit the Carthusian monastery I had contacted the previous year. He told me the Slovenian monks looked down on him because he was Croatian, which shocked me coming from such a religious person. He advised that if I ever wanted to visit the Carthusians, Germany would be a better choice. He then recounted his experiences spending several years in various monasteries.
He mentioned that some monks had sex with nuns while still living in monasteries. This was difficult for me to believe, as I had assumed everyone in monasteries adhered strictly to God’s word.
We arrived on the island late in the afternoon, where the monk was waiting for us. Despite it being a cold early February, he was wearing a robe, sandals, and socks. We greeted him with hugs. He had such an innocent and gentle demeanor. We got into his small car and drove toward the monastery. On the way, we prayed together briefly. After the prayer, he told us we would stop by an old village where small houses were being built for future monks who would live an ascetic life of solitude and prayer. We continued to the monastery, arriving just as night fell. We met the nuns who lived with the monk; they were very humble. The monk showed us to our rooms on the upper floor. I had a large room to myself, for which I was grateful. He showed me the radiator by the window and, as it was very cold, turned it on before leaving. After he left, I turned the radiator off. I wanted to be tough and endure some suffering as a form of sacrifice.
The nuns ate dinner in the dining room first, and then it was our turn. For some reason, we ate separately. While we ate, the three of us took turns reading from religious books. First, the monk read while we ate, then the other man read while the monk and I ate, and finally, I read while they ate. The monk explained that while we nourish our bodies, we should also nourish our spirits.
After dinner, the monk gave me a schedule for the next three days. It included several prayers throughout the day, gospel readings, some simple activities, and free time. I went to my room, and the monk came by and gave me a Bible. He was surprised to see that I had turned off the radiator. He told me it was cold and that God would want me to be warm, but if I preferred, I could leave it off.
We discussed my veganism, and he quoted Bible verses from Acts 11. Verses 5-7 read: “I was in the city of Joppa, praying, and in a trance I saw a vision. I saw something like a large sheet being lowered from heaven by its four corners, and it came down to where I was. I looked into it and saw four-footed animals of the earth, wild beasts, creeping things, and birds of the air. Then I heard a voice saying to me, ‘Get up, Peter; kill and eat.’”.Verse 8: “But I said, ‘Surely not, Lord! For nothing common or unclean has at any time entered my mouth.’”
Verse 3: “But a voice spoke from heaven a second time, ‘What God has cleansed, you must not call common.’”
The monk reiterated that it’s acceptable to eat animals and animal products, but if I preferred to remain vegan, that was also acceptable.
I went to sleep, and the north wind began to blow. Although the old wooden windows were closed, the wind still seeped into the room, making it cold. I prayed but refused to turn on the radiator. I woke up in the middle of the night; the wind was still howling, and the room was frigid. I put on my socks and piled 3-4 blankets on top of me to try to stay warm.
In the morning, I woke up and began reading the Bible. I randomly opened it, letting it guide me, and stopped at Romans 14. I read the verses pertaining to food: “2 One person’s faith allows them to eat anything, but another, whose faith is weak, eats only vegetables. 3 The one who eats everything must not treat with contempt the one who does not, and the one who does not eat everything must not condemn the one who does, for God has accepted them…21 It is better not to eat meat or drink wine or to do anything else that will cause your brother or sister to fall.”
I interpreted those verses as God speaking to me about my veganism. I saw verse 21 as God criticizing those who weren’t vegan. However, verses 2 and 3 seemed to suggest that I shouldn’t look down on those who eat everything, and that eating only vegetables was a sign of weakness.
My main takeaway was from verse 21, which led me to believe that people who ate meat were spiritually weak. It wasn’t until years later that I understood that a person’s diet was irrelevant to salvation.
The monk came to say good morning, and I showed him the Bible verses I had read. I felt special and close to God, and he was amazed that the Bible had opened to those specific pages and verses.
We attended morning prayer together with the nuns in a small room resembling a miniature church. It was located next to the main church of the monastery, but we didn’t pray in the larger church. After the prayer, I received my first task at the monastery. The monk brought me a bowl of walnuts, a hammer, and a wooden plank. I had to use the hammer to crack the walnuts and extract the kernels. I spent the next 45 minutes doing this in my room, sitting at my desk and enjoying the sunny morning. We had lunch later in the morning, and when the noon bells rang, it was time for another prayer in the church. Overall, I enjoyed being there and living a quiet, prayerful life with minimal human interaction. Later, I checked YouTube to see what Mark Braun was up to, and he was simply doing his plumbing routine. There were no hidden messages.
The following day, I had another task before the noon prayer. The monk brought me some old furniture that needed sanding before it could be repainted. He gave me an electric sander, and I sanded off the old paint and smoothed the surfaces in preparation for repainting. When I finished, the monk inspected my work and complimented me, saying I was a skilled craftsman. I told him I had worked in a carpentry workshop and had some experience. We had the midday prayer, followed by lunch, and then the afternoon prayer at 3:00 pm, as per Christian tradition.
The three of us, along with the two nuns, gathered in the small church room for rosary. After the rosary, Holy Mass was celebrated, a standard mass with one exception. During Holy Communion, the priest’s tradition was to drink wine from a chalice, eat a large wafer broken in half, and then distribute smaller wafers to the other believers. As I, the other man, and the nuns prepared to receive communion, we knelt before the priest. Instead of giving us the small wafers, he broke the large priestly wafer into four pieces, dipped them in the chalice of wine, and then gave us communion. It was a special moment for me, as I had never experienced this type of communion before.
On the third day of my monastery visit, I went to the monk’s office to talk. I told him about the loss of my youngest brother, which visibly affected him. I then shared my explorations into flat Earth theory, my creation of the Blood Over Intent ritual, and my interest in Mark Braun, who claimed to be Satan. I also described the wax table and the sigils I had created. I apologized for sharing such things with someone as holy and innocent as him, but he took it in stride. He said he had seen evidence supporting both flat and round Earth theories and that the Earth’s shape wasn’t of great importance to him. He was even interested in learning more about Mark Braun. He told me I seemed like a good person who had experienced difficult things in life. That sunny afternoon, I had free time, which I spent walking around the island, away from the monastery, to experience the ascetic hermit’s life in solitude. I walked through the vineyards and fields. The north wind had stopped blowing.
I felt at peace with nature and climbed a small hill to explore. I needed to urinate and did so in the woods on the hill. Only afterward did I realize the monastery was visible in the distance. I worried that someone from the monastery might have seen me, but I reasoned that even if they had, they likely wouldn’t say anything. I returned toward the monastery, but as I got closer, I veered off in a different direction and discovered some miniature abandoned fort. I went back to the monastery and told the monk about the fort. He and I went back to it, and he agreed it would be a good place for restoration, suggesting there might have been a small hermitage there at some point. We returned to the monastery, and he asked if I wanted to stay for two more days. To my surprise, I hesitated slightly, but ultimately decided to stay.
The next day was Sunday, and the other man and I went to a local church five minutes from the monastery to attend Holy Mass. It felt strange to be among a crowd of “ordinary” people after being with only a few in the monastery. It was my last night there, and the monk asked me to write something in a large notebook filled with other people’s reviews. I wrote, “Thank you for the opportunity, God bless you.” I was inspired by Mark Braun, who often said in his plumbing videos that he would thank his employers by saying, “Thank you for the opportunity, sir.”
The following day, I woke up, and we had our usual prayer time. The other man told me he would be staying at the monastery for a while longer, while it was my last day there.
In the evening, the monk drove me to the ferry. I was almost late, but I managed to board. I sat outside because it was a beautiful night. As the ferry departed, I looked at the stars and reflected on my time at the monastery. I arrived on the mainland about half an hour later, and I suddenly felt a strong urge to smoke a cigarette and eat meat. I suppose I had suppressed all my feelings with prayer and the desire to escape the world. I arrived home in the evening and went to sleep.
A few days later, I visited Uncle Benny and my grandfather in Split. Uncle Benny was watching a graphic wildlife documentary about Africa, showing hyenas eating carcasses. I returned home in the evening and checked YouTube. The Angel of Death had posted a video with irrelevant content, but the background music was Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World.” I believed the Angel of Death was aware of my trip to the monastery, my visit to Uncle Benny’s apartment, and the documentary I had watched. I thought the song choice was ironic, considering how animals eat other animals, and humans do the same.
A few days later, I was back at Uncle Benny’s. My grandfather from Split had made “sailor’s salad,” consisting of boiled meat, boiled and sliced eggs, and onions. I was very hungry, so I started eating it and thoroughly enjoyed it. My veganism ended just like that.
The next day, I remembered my conversation with the priest in January and started looking for a job.
March
I returned to the carpentry workshop and resumed smoking weed. A day later, a friend of one of the carpenters offered me a moving job. I joined a few other guys in a van, and we went to a business location to load furniture and transport it to another location.
This turned out to be the headquarters of a telecommunications company. While carrying furniture, I saw a poster featuring Jim Carrey from The Truman Show (1998). The poster read “on air, unaware,” referencing the film’s premise of Carrey’s character unknowingly being the star of a reality show.
That protagonist, Truman, lived in a giant domed studio that was a replica of the real world. He was unaware that he had been filmed his entire life and placed on an island where he lived and worked. He believed this was his reality, having been born and raised in this fabricated world, never suspecting he was constantly under surveillance. As the film progressed, he began to suspect something was amiss and eventually escaped. I began to think I was on the Truman Show, that my every move was being watched. I remembered Mark Braun saying that archons can replay your entire life before you. I concluded that the Illuminati had put up the poster to mock my belief in hidden messages.
The next day, the carpenter’s friend returned and asked if I wanted to drive a van for someone else. I agreed and got into the van. I drove north, to a different part of town, to meet the people. Their task was to deliver a new type of trash can to a neighboring town and install them.
My only task was to drive the van. We went to a large warehouse at the port of Split to pick up the trash cans. We loaded them into the van and drove to the neighboring town. After unloading and installing the trash cans, they offered me a full- time job. I accepted, and the next morning, I reported to their workshop north of my neighborhood. Their company specialized in billboards and advertisements. We cut plastic panels and glued advertisements onto them. Then, we drove into the city to attach these ads to light poles along the roads. One of the guys climbed the poles to install them.
He installed the ads and tried to teach me how to do the same. We drove to the next set of light poles in another neighborhood, and I climbed up and did the same. I was slower than him but eager to learn. Above the ads were small lights that illuminated them at night. The next day, we repaired some of the broken lights. We would arrive at a pole, remove the protective plate, and connect the battery to provide electricity. Then, we would climb the pole to replace the broken light. I found the job exciting because I was constantly moving around and learning new things. One day, two colleagues and I went to a neighboring town to install new trash cans. One of the guys asked me if I believed in Agartha.
Agartha is a legendary kingdom said to be located on the inner surface of the Earth. It’s sometimes associated with the hollow Earth theory and is a popular theme in esoteric circles. I was surprised that some of the guys I worked with knew about Agartha, which made me suspect, once again, that they were all Illuminati and were just toying with me. At the end of the day, I decided to quit because I was constantly preoccupied with thoughts of conspiracy theories directed against me. The next day at work, I told my colleagues I was quitting.
They asked why, and I lied, telling them I wasn’t satisfied with the job. My days of working with ads and trash cans were over.
April
On April 1st, I wrote on a piece of paper: “I intend to bring forth heaven on Earth and release everyone from bondage.” I planned to hike to the mountain north of Split, so I brought the paper, my phone, and a needle. The “Blood Over Intent” video is still on YouTube, and I used Lady Gaga’s “Eh, eh (Nothing Else I Can Say)” as the soundtrack. The song was inspired by a Venus video. I chose April 1st because I felt it was the real New Year, despite most people thinking it was April Fool’s Day.
I went to the employment service to look for another job. I was underqualified for most positions, and there were no openings in my field. I found an ad for a graphic design company. I contacted them and went for an interview the following morning. The company was located in a different part of the city. They prepared materials for billboards, printed ads on canvas, and printed promotional materials for various businesses and products. I met the head of the company, and he assigned one of his employees to train me. The employee showed me how to use some basic tools to create a hanging billboard.
He mentioned that the previous employees had quit because they disliked the work environment. This was supposed to be my first “red flag.” I stayed the entire day until 8 p.m. instead of 4 p.m., and then we ordered pizza. When we started eating, the boss’s wife arrived and was surprised to see me still there. That was supposed to be my second “red flag.” I ignored these red flags because I was determined to overcome the initial challenges of learning the job and eventually secure a permanent position.
I returned the next morning, and my task was to drive the van to another part of the city to pick up billboard materials. My boss jokingly told me to be careful, mentioning that the van wasn’t insured—the third red flag. I got into the van, which was larger than the one I drove at my previous job. I quickly got a feel for its size and drove it without issue to the pickup location. I met the people there, who helped me load the van with large plastic sheets that needed to be cut down to size at my company. Inside, they gave me the receipt and joked that my second day at the company was a record for a new employee—the fourth red flag.
I told them I wanted to persevere and learn something new. I returned to the company, and we unloaded the van. My next task was to assemble small canvas pieces with printed images on them into a larger canvas. This involved overlapping the borders of the individual pieces and then using a heat press to fuse them together. I assisted the employee who was training me, and overall, it was a productive day.
Five days later, I was back at work and asked the employee if I should write down everything I had learned. He replied that I should have already done so. That afternoon, I went home and talked to my parents.
Over the summer, we needed to find a temporary place to live so we could rent out our own place to tourists. I searched online and found a nice apartment in Stobreč. The agency had listed it for $300. I contacted them and scheduled a viewing for the next day. I went to work and told my boss I was looking for an apartment. He criticized me, saying I didn’t even know how to do my job yet and was already apartment hunting. I replied that I needed to find a rental regardless.
I finished work at 4:00 p.m. and went to Stobreč. The apartment was in a large house on a peninsula in the old part of Stobreč. I went up to the third floor and met the woman from the agency and the girl who was the owner. We toured the apartment. It was a cozy little place with two bedrooms. The living room and bedrooms were sparsely furnished, but we had a few military cots in our storage room at our Split apartment.
The view was incredible. From the north side, you could see the Stobreč bay. The only south-facing window was in my room, and from there, you could see a sliver of the sea between the houses. I mentioned that I would live there with my parents during the summer and then alone in the winter. I spoke a little longer with the agency representative and the owner, and they said they would call me if they decided to rent to me.
The following day, I received a call from a woman at the agency, informing me that the girl had agreed to let me rent the place. Her decision was mainly influenced by my intention for a long-term contract and the fact that I didn’t have any pets. I was thrilled by the news and felt proud of securing the apartment on my own. After work, my mom and I went to Stobreč to finalize the contract. I signed a one-year lease, and we paid the agency fee, security deposit, and the first month’s rent. The total came to around $900, which was within our budget.
May
I kept working at the graphic design company, but I was slow to pick things up. I wasn’t sure when or what to do, which sometimes frustrated my boss and coworkers. One day, I went into town with a colleague to put up ads for a fast food place. I was slow and confused about the task, which made my colleague annoyed. During this, I ran into a guy who was the child of my mother’s cousin from the suburbs, and the worker made fun of me in front of him. I felt so embarrassed, and I was starting to feel like I didn’t understand the job well enough and wanted to quit.
A few days later, a coworker and I were working on a heating press, and the topic came up about how I had tried being vegan. He got upset and mocked me, saying, “Go vegan!” Every time I had to start the heating press, he would loudly complain about how boring vegans were. He insisted that animals were here for us, not the other way around.
We returned to the company’s headquarters, and I was assigned the task of cutting papers for billboards. I was slow, and the boss got really frustrated. I wanted to quit right away, but at the same time, I pushed myself to keep going and persevere.
The next day, a girl drove to our company in her car, and I was tasked with driving a van to another company where we were picking up large pieces of plastic for advertisements. The workers there were surprised that I was still with my company. On my way back, I had to park the van parallel to the girl’s car and accidentally scratched it, causing significant damage. I got upset and went back to the company to tell my boss what had happened. He wasn’t angry, just disappointed, and told me to bring him $300 the next day to cover the damage.
The boss, the worker, and I went to a neighboring area where the boss’s company had another work site. I was tasked with cutting some thin plastic hoses, but I did it incorrectly. The boss laughed, likely because he was fed up with being angry. I asked him why he didn’t find another employee from the labor market, and he said there were probably 20-30 people like me out there, but he hired me because “at least he could have a good laugh with me.” I should’ve quit then, but I still wanted to stick with the job. The next day, my boss sent me to a brand-new hotel to do something on my own. I took on the challenge, but when I went to do my task, I ended up ruining the text glued to the plastic, making it all messy.
The next day, I forgot to bring the $300 my boss had asked for. When I arrived at work, he was upset about both that and the text I had ruined the day before. He left, and I was left to cut the canvas with scissors. I asked the worker if I should cut along the boundary lines, and he said yes. After he left, I mistakenly cut it the wrong way. When he returned, he put his hands on his head and made a pained expression. I had nearly ruined the entire batch of canvases. Then my boss came back and he was angry as well.
I explained to my boss that the worker had told me to cut it out immediately, but the worker had actually meant the opposite. After that, we went to the heating room to connect the parts, and then we had some trash to throw away. I didn’t realize there were garbage cans closer to the company, so I went to the ones that were much farther away. When I finished and came back into the company, my boss asked me why it took so long. I told him I had thrown the garbage in the further trash cans, and he was disappointed again.
He listed all my mistakes, including the fact that I hadn’t brought him the $300 for the damage. He was furious, and I stood there, trying not to cry, just listening. His wife came in to calm him down, saying it was enough, but he kept going. Their baby was crying in the other room, and in that moment, I thought it would be better for the baby to cry than for me. I left the place and went to get coffee, which helped me calm down. I went back home to Stobreč, where we were living at the time, and shared what had happened with my parents. My dad told me that I should’ve told my boss to “cool down,” especially since the van wasn’t even insured, and that should have been the end of it.
The next day, I went into work and told everyone I was quitting. They didn’t seem thrilled by the idea, probably because they saw my persistence, but they didn’t try to make me stay either. The guys from the big plastic panel company came in, and they were shocked that I was still there. I told them I was quitting, and they didn’t blame me for it. I think they even recorded my short time there as a new company record. After a month and a week, I finally left that nightmare job. I never did bring the $300 to my boss, and he either forgot about it or just didn’t care. I went out for a celebratory coffee, relieved to have escaped that hellhole.
I went back to my new home in Stobreč and told my parents that I had quit the job. They reassured me, saying that I would eventually find something else.
One afternoon, I went hiking on a hill above Stobreč and the suburbs. The hill had a quarry on its northern side, and I hiked through the forest on the southern side, making my way up to the ridge. I reached the edge of a cliff about 60 feet high and sat there, feeling strangely calm despite the danger. After a while, I descended into the woods as it started to get dark. It was the perfect time to roll a joint, so I did, smoked it, and enjoyed the sight of the full moon rising. I continued down to the river, smoked a bit more, and then headed home.
It was the end of May when I went with my mom to pick cherries. We had some land in the suburbs with cherry trees. As I was picking the cherries, my mom told me that God would provide me with a new job.
The next morning, I woke up around 9 a.m. and went to the store to get some groceries. When I was getting closer to the house, I saw a guy coming out of it. He looked tired, exhausted, and had dark circles under his eyes. I greeted him since he was my neighbor. Later, my brother came from Dubrovnik, and we went somewhere outside. As we were approaching the house, we saw the same guy from the other day getting into his car.
My brother told me that the guy was our childhood soccer coach, Ray, and that he had just come back from the parking lot in front of the house. The guy in the car stopped to greet us, and it really was Coach Ray. I didn’t recognize him the other day. We chatted for a bit, and he asked how I was doing and if I had a job. I told him I was unemployed, and he asked if I would be interested in working at a Coca-Cola warehouse for $1,000 a month. I said “yes,” and he gave me the boss’s number. I went home, contacted the boss, and told him that Ray had given me his number. He told me to come in for a job interview the next day.
The next day, I went to the city of Solin, which was next to Split, because the warehouse was located there. It was my first time in that part of Solin, and I was impressed by the size of the warehouse. I parked next to the gate and gave my ID to the security guards at the entrance. After receiving a reflective vest, I headed into the warehouse. As I walked in, I saw that it was filled with pallets of Coca-Cola, Coca-Cola Zero, Fanta, Sprite and many other drinks. The pallets were stacked three high, and the warehouse was about three to four stories tall.
I met my new boss, and he explained my job responsibilities. I would be in charge of collecting drink packets and placing them on empty pallets. I was also supposed to operate an electric pallet jack and navigate the warehouse. My shift would start at 7:00 p.m. and end at 3:00 a.m. However, I wouldn’t be directly employed by Coca-Cola but by a subcontracting company that worked for them. My boss advised me not to swim during the day because I would be too exhausted for the night shift. He also told me honestly that the work would be tough, comparing it to a “mine.” I agreed to the job and went to gather the necessary documents for my employment.
I reached out to Coach Ray and let him know that I would be working with him. He was happy to hear the good news. I also learned that Coach Ray was married, had two children, and lived on the first floor of the house where I stayed. I lived on the third floor, and the second floor was occupied by the owner girl’s grandmother, who was Ray’s mother-in-law, and her son.
A few days later, Ray and I drove to work together. He and his wife shared one car, so it wasn’t always available to him. We went to the Coca-Cola warehouse, where I met many new people, including other auxiliary workers like me, forklift drivers, and pallet controllers. My boss wasn’t there; he worked from 6:00 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. One of the pallet controllers, an older man close to retirement, saw me and immediately said, “Why did you come to work here? It’s a hellhole! You’d better find a new job as soon as possible.” We all laughed because he said that to everyone new to the warehouse.
We waited for the printouts. Each sheet listed the products for a single pallet, with some pallets requiring multiple stapled sheets. The sheets were categorized by product size: 2 liters, 1.5/1 liter, 0.5 liters, and glass/crates. After counting the sheets, the total was divided among the 10 auxiliary workers, including me. I received my stack of sheets, and a coworker showed me the ropes of pallet building. As a newbie, I started with the 0.5-liter products and a manual pallet jack, while most of the others used electric pallet jacks.
Someone explained how to build a pallet, and I began placing packages of various drinks onto a pallet according to the specifications on each sheet. As I proved capable, I was given increasingly complex orders. I made some mistakes, but so did everyone else. At the end of the shift, Ray told me the pallet controllers were pleased with my work. We finished around 11 p.m.; it had been an easy first day for me.
June
I continued working at the warehouse and progressed so quickly that I got my own electric pallet jack. It was hard work, mainly because of the night shifts, but I was up for the challenge. At the time, I smoked weed daily, and every night after work, I would roll a joint and go to the beach on the south side of Stobreč. I enjoyed smoking, feeling I deserved it after a hard day’s work. A few days later, I transferred to another department where Ray also worked. He would distribute the work orders in a way that benefited him, taking the easier orders while assigning me the heavier ones. It wasn’t fair, but I didn’t know how to assert myself.
On the other hand, I genuinely loved my job and didn’t mind stacking heavy pallets. I usually finished last. Once, I finished before Ray, and he asked me to help him, as if he didn’t want me to finish before him. As June progressed and the summer season approached, there were more pallets to prepare. Sometimes we stayed at the warehouse until 5:00 or 6:00 in the morning, witnessing the sunrise through the ceiling windows before heading home. I would always go home, eat something, and then smoke weed before bed.
Ray either didn’t know about me smoking weed or he pretended not to. In the mornings, I would smoke and spend a few hours outside. Depending on when my shift ended, I would get home between 8:00 and 10:00 am. I always made sure to go upstairs barefoot to avoid waking anyone up.
I’d often have strange dreams about the warehouse and would wake up around 5:00 or 6:00 p.m. to get ready for work. There were three public holidays in June, and our company offered an extra $100 for working on those days. I chose to work all three since most people would avoid working, especially during the holidays.
I still had thoughts about the Illuminati controlling me. One day, I was riding with Ray to work, and a song played on the radio with the lyrics “… in your thoughts, in your thoughts…”. Ray was singing along, and as he did, he glanced at me. I interpreted that as a subconscious message from him, as if the Illuminati knew my thoughts. Another “hint” came shortly after when I was driving with Ray to work again.
I was driving while Ray was on the passenger seat. Ray and I decided not to fasten our seat belts because we felt confident about it. However, we got pulled over by the police, and while they gave me a warning, they didn’t issue one to Ray. I started to think that it was somehow connected to the Illuminati police, and that everyone was targeting me. It reminded me of when Danny once told me that the police could never catch him.
On Wednesday, June 19th, I worked the night shift and got home around 3:00-4:00 in the morning. As usual, I ate something, rolled a joint, and packed extra weed to take to the beach. This time, I brought a towel with me so I could swim. I went to the gay beaches since there was no one there early, and I could swim in the nude. I enjoyed smoking weed while watching the dawn. By 8-9:00 in the morning, the sun was already high in the sky, and I went for a swim. I ventured further down the beach towards Split, finding a spot near a bunker-like structure dug into the slope. Afterward, it was time to head home and get some sleep.
For some reason, I lingered and started rolling another joint. Out of nowhere, two couples, one younger male-female and one older male-female, came and spread their towels near my spot. A younger couple settled to my right, hidden among the trees and bushes, while an older couple positioned themselves directly below me. They were all nudists. As I rolled my joint, I heard moaning from the younger woman to my right. When I glanced toward the older couple, I saw the woman stand up, sit on a rock visible to me, and begin oiling herself. I moved down and started smoking my joint closer to the sea, a little further from the older couple.
The sun was shining, and I was smoking weed naked. The smoke was amazing, and I loved watching it gently blow off the joint in the wind. I enjoyed every second of the experience and realized I would either sleep very little or not at all that day. I got high and went back to my place. It was already 1 p.m., and there was no sexual activity. I didn’t have sex, but it didn’t bother me—I probably couldn’t have gotten laid while I was high anyway.
I realized there would be no sleep for me, so I went home, ate something, and drove to Split to the nearest pharmacy. I bought red-eye drops, used a few drops in each eye, and drove to work. I was a little late and my colleagues had already started. I spoke to a truck driver and struggled to keep my eyes open. When I began working, I made a mistake and had to correct it. Somehow, I managed to get through my shift, went home, and finally fell asleep.
July
In early July, I received my salary of $1,300. When I arrived at work, everyone was laughing at Ray because he only got $1,000. Working on holidays really paid off. I spent the entire summer working, getting high in the evenings and mornings—that was pretty much my routine. On weekends, I’d go swimming at gay beaches, where I’d also get high. Some older gay men offered to give me blowjobs or even have sex with me, but I always turned them down. I recalled a time when an older gay fisherman talked about boats anchored near those gay beaches.
This reminded me of a few times on weekends when I was high and naked on the beach. I’d see boats anchored about 200 yards offshore. I could clearly see families on board, with children swimming and fathers looking at the beach. It struck me as ironic because they were heterosexual, married with children, and they were watching gay men.
A heatwave hit the Split and Stobreč area. One day, it reached 100°F, and I spent it near the sea on the gay beaches, high. It was so hot that I got sunburned hands, and I covered the burns with a wet t-shirt. Overall, I enjoyed the heat. I spent the entire day on the gay beaches, waiting for evening. I went home at night and climbed the hill. In the distance, I heard people talking, and when I reached an abandoned house, I saw a girl and two guys hanging out and drinking. They stopped me and asked where I was going. One guy asked for my ID and said he was a former police officer. I got scared and gave him my ID.
He read my name and, probably because he was drunk, said I was “their guy.” The other guy told me what he’d done was illegal, and then started yelling that he was going to call the police. I wisely remained silent. If I had told them not to call the police, they probably would have, and I would have been arrested because I had some weed in my bag. The girl suspected I had been at the gay beaches and asked why I got the urge to go there.
Because I had recently met a gay man who told me, “Whenever you have the urge to break free, you should do it,” I suspected these three people at the abandoned house were Illuminati who knew about that statement and were mocking me. Finally, one of the guys told me I should avoid the gay beaches because that’s where crime happens. When I asked what kind of crime, he said it wasn’t my business. The girl remarked that I had the guts to continue talking to them, so I left. I was annoyed by the encounter, but relieved that nothing bad had happened.
I put the irritating encounter behind me and continued to enjoy the summer. After work, I would often go to the beach at dawn and get high, staying there for hours. I frequently visited the gay beaches, enjoying the solitude. I’d take off my clothes, roll a joint, and light up. I savored the smoke and wandered naked along the shore. There were several pine trees that had fallen onto the rocks along the beach, and you had to climb over them to go further. Naked, I was walking through the shallows when I came to one of these trees. I climbed onto a rock and then stepped onto the tree trunk. Since it was barkless, it was slippery. I slipped, nearly fell, and could have been seriously injured. I don’t know how I managed to stay on my feet and keep my balance.
August
I worked regularly and continued my routine of smoking weed after work. I found a new weed dealer in Split. I traveled there monthly by bus, afraid of being pulled over by the police while carrying weed. The dealer offered me weed with moldy buds. It was cheaper and still got you high, but it smelled and tasted awful. I researched online and discovered that soaking the buds in water and then drying them could remove the mold. The moldy parts would dissolve, leaving only the usable material. I devised a system: I’d fill a jar with a rubber seal with the weed and then top it off with water.
I would let the jar sit for 24 hours, during which the water would become murky. I’d then pour out the water and repeat the process; the water would be less murky the second time. After pouring out the water again, I’d put the wet buds in an old t-shirt, shaping it into a bag, and hang it on the balcony to dry. Depending on the weather, they’d be dry within 24 hours. Then I could smoke the buds without the terrible smell.
One day, I cycled to work and brought weed with me, but I didn’t get high there. Instead, I decided to get high after work near a landfill between the suburbs and Split. It was a quiet summer night, with the moon shining brightly. I got very high, and about an hour later, I saw a dog-like creature walking in the dark. I realized it was a badger, and it ran away when it saw me. I then headed toward Stobreč, still carrying some weed in my bag. As I reached an industrial zone with many warehouses near the suburbs, I saw a police car patrolling the area.
I continued toward Stobreč, keeping an eye on the police car’s movements. I was on a straight road leading to Stobreč when I realized the police car would pass me in a minute. I stopped and waited until they were out of sight, then quickly grabbed the weed and rolling papers from my bag and threw them along the roadside, marking the spot in my memory. I continued cycling toward Stobreč, hoping the police wouldn’t stop me since my bike lights were on.
They drove past me without stopping, and I watched them continue toward Stobreč. Once they were out of sight, I turned back to the spot where I’d tossed the weed. As I approached the area, a car came up behind me. I kept cycling, trying to conceal the fact that I was searching the roadside. I found my weed and decided to get a little higher. I headed toward the intersection of Stobreč and the industrial zone, turning left toward the river mouth. There, I saw the same police car I’d seen earlier. I casually cycled past them, went to the river mouth, and then onto the path along the river.
The path was wide but unpaved. I headed toward the suburbs to get away from the main road. I found a quiet, dark spot where the river flowed gently. I rolled a joint and got high by the river. I sat on a bench near a path leading into the woods; an empty iced tea bottle was on the bench. After a while, I started to feel dizzy, fearing a heart attack or something similar. I suspected the Illuminati were bombarding me with harmful frequencies, causing my dizziness. Suddenly, I heard a car approaching from the north in the distance. Thinking it was the same police car, I quickly gathered my things and left, pushing my bike. The car was getting closer, and by the time I reached the path, I was farther from the river. I heard the car stop about 20 yards behind me. I continued along the path until it reached the road. Once on the road, I sobered up and cycled to Stobreč, filled with fear. I wondered if it had been the police car or just a couple looking for a place to be intimate.
On weekends, Ava and I would go to the nudist beaches in Kašjuni, Split, and swim naked. I wanted to have sex with her, but I had trouble maintaining an erection or ejaculated prematurely. It was frustrating to only last seven seconds, experience a surge of insecurities, and then cum inside her too quickly. My penis would then become limp and slip out of her vagina. I didn’t know why this was happening. Perhaps it was because we were in a relatively public place and there might have been people watching.
Perhaps it was my fear of getting her pregnant. Ever since high school, I’d wanted to find an older woman who couldn’t get pregnant and have sex with her, but now that I had, all these problems were occurring. It was incredibly frustrating.
September
My company informed me that I would continue working in the warehouse for another month, after which they wouldn’t need as many workers. This meant I would lose my job at the beginning of October.
October
In October, my employment at the Coca-Cola warehouse ended. Ray told me the subcontractor would be changing in December and that there was a chance I could be rehired. Even the warehouse manager called me, saying there was a possibility and that if the new company needed workers, I’d be first on the list. He explained that some of the current employees were planning to quit, which would create an opening for me. I was grateful for this and waited to see how things would turn out.
I had saved about $2,000 over the summer, which was a decent amount of spending money since I was planning to live alone soon. However, I was also unemployed. I tried to relax and waited for my parents to return to their place in Split. The day they were due back, I walked to the suburbs to visit my relatives there. When I got home, I received a message from my mom saying they had packed their bags and left. The apartment was finally all mine.
As I walked back to Stobreč, I felt a newfound sense of freedom. Even though I was unemployed, I was confident I would find something. From that moment on, I was essentially on vacation. It felt great to be home alone. I got high, and when I returned, I didn’t have to hide from anyone. I only had to be discreet around the other residents of the building, but that was the price of having my own space. I decided to take a bus to Makarska the next day. It was a 1.5-hour drive south, and I booked my ticket online.
The next day, I woke up early, feeling refreshed and ready to go. It was a new day, and I packed my things. I took the city bus to the Split bus station and boarded the bus to Makarska. It was a classic ride along the beautiful Croatian coast, and I listened to music as I traveled. I arrived in Makarska by 10:00 in the morning and bought some snacks—just some cookies and a few bananas. My next stop was Nugal, a famous nudist beach in Makarska, about a half-hour walk south. I wished Ava could have been there with me on this trip. I enjoyed the walk through the pine trees and soon arrived at my destination. Even though it was mid-October, people were still visiting the beach. I walked down and found a spot for my towel. Some people wore swimsuits, while others were naked. As I walked further down the beach, I enjoyed the sight of naked women. I’ve come to realize that everyone looks better naked, regardless of gender, race, or even the size of their genitals. I found my spot and undressed. Feeling hungry, I ate some cookies. I’d brought about a gallon of water, worried about dehydration. I rolled a joint and went to a more secluded part of the beach where there’s a waterfall in the winter to smoke it.
There was no waterfall at that time, just a large puddle surrounded by gravel and more forest, separating that area from the main beach. I smoked my mold-free weed, hoping no one would call the police. By the time I finished, I was quite high, so I returned to my spot. I went into the cold sea, diving in completely and swimming for a bit. I then came out and relaxed on the beach, listening to music. It was noon, and the October sun was still pleasantly warm. I enjoyed being high, free, and completely alone. About three hours later, I rolled another joint right there on the beach, discreetly using my bag as cover. I went to smoke again, got high, repeated the process, and by the time the high started to wear off, it was already 6:00 p.m. and time to go home. I returned to the bus station and boarded the bus to Split. Still slightly high, I listened to music during the ride. I got off at the bus stop near Stobreč and went to the southern beaches there to get high again. I stayed out until midnight before finally heading home.
The next day, I went to the gay beaches to get high and ended up with diarrhea because I’d only eaten cookies. I realized I needed to cook something substantial. The following day, I went to the store and bought meat, rice, and vegetables. I made beef broth, removing the meat afterward. I also made mashed potatoes and a lettuce salad. Finally, I had a healthy lunch. In the evenings, I would cook about two plates of rice before going out to get high.
Sometimes, while high, I wondered if there would come a time when I wouldn’t be able to smoke weed anymore. That’s why I tried to enjoy every time I smoked as if it were my last.
I made several more trips to Makarska, about two or three in total, before the end of October.
On October 28th, I went to the gay beaches to get high and noticed salt in a small hole in a rock near the sea. I took some with my fingertips and tasted it. It was the best, most intense salt I’d ever had. I returned home in the evening, and Venus posted a new video called “Slan | Berserk Eclipse.” I thought she knew about my salt tasting because “Slan” means “salty” in Croatian.
November
On November 1st, I spent the day at gay beaches. It was surprisingly hot for that time of year. I smoked a lot of weed that day. My usual consumption was about four joints a day, along with one or two cigarettes. However, when I was high, I didn’t feel the need for cigarettes. My typical “stoned session” lasted about three hours, after which the intense high would subside. The overall high lasted for about 6-7 hours, with the first three being the most intense, followed by a more relaxed, almost dreamlike state.
A few days later, I was at the gay beaches rolling a joint when my former boss from Coca-Cola called. He asked if I wanted to come back to work at the warehouse; the job was officially offered. I told him I’d give him my answer by the end of November.
The following Sunday was windy and cloudy, with a choppy sea. That didn’t stop me from going to the gay beaches to get high. On the way, I ran into Ray, who was talking to someone in a car. I greeted him and said I was going for a walk. The moment I saw the car’s license plate contained the number “3223,” I was convinced that he and the other guy were part of the Illuminati and knew where I was going and what I was doing.
Ultimately, I didn’t care because I believed everything was part of some kind of higher purpose. I went to an abandoned house to get high and later went home.
I continued my regular weed consumption. I would start each joint with a slight, internal panic that I wouldn’t get high. I smoked every joint completely, down to the very last bit of weed and tobacco. All that would be left was the filter in my hand. The panic would subside each time as the weed’s effects slowly but surely took hold.
One rainy night, I got high on the beach and then threw a joint into the sea. After spending some time there, I went home and quietly made my way to my floor of the house. I turned on the lights and noticed that the joint was stuck to my jacket. From that point on, whenever I got high on the beach, I would gently place the joint in the sea, watching it float and slowly drift away to make sure it was definitely gone.
The next day, I called my boss and told him I wanted to take the job at the warehouse. He was happy to hear that, and so was I.
December
I returned to work at the warehouse, which was a relief as I was short on cash. I maintained a healthy diet by cooking my own meals. My days fell into a comfortable rhythm: I’d wake up feeling good, prepare lunch, go to work, then get high on the beach, and repeat. For added privacy, I sometimes went to the gay beaches to get high before walking home along the rocky, dark shoreline. During these walks, I once realized I was navigating almost unconsciously, as if some protective force was guiding me.
On July 12th, I recorded a video of “tnetni revo doolB” from the “t h i c c” channel. I reversed the video and could hear words from a Lady Gaga song. I made out phrases like, “I am your Shiva,” “You are the one, nobody you’re than this,” “Oh, enough is said because we wish you well,” and “I ask for every word I feel well.”
When I reversed the video, which also had the song inverted, I saw a piece of paper where I’d written my intention to bring heaven to Earth. At that point in the reversed audio, I clearly heard the words, “Mmmm, we wish your wish.”
I uploaded the reversed video, titled “tnetni revo doolB.”
I hadn’t given up on my dream of reaching the North Pole and finding happiness. I explored the possibility of joining a trip organized by Barneo, an ice camp that’s set up near the North Pole each spring. My goal was to reach the North Magnetic Pole. My plan involved first traveling to Longyearbyen, a town on the Norwegian island of Svalbard, located within the Arctic Circle. From Longyearbyen, I would then make my way to the Barneo Ice Camp, which is positioned about 100-150 kilometers from the North Pole on the constantly drifting Arctic ice. From there, I believed my journey would become legendary.
By mid-December, my savings had dwindled, and I was waiting for my January paycheck. I went to Split to visit my parents and borrowed $300 from my mom. My desire to escape to the North Pole was so intense that I used the money to buy a plane ticket to Longyearbyen for April 2020. My plan was to fly there, then walk the 1,000 miles to the North Pole, finally leaving everything behind. The plane ticket cost $300. After purchasing it, I was browsing the internet and saw an ad that said, “They’re seriously coming.” The ad then changed to, “Discount in X store is coming.”
I interpreted the ad as a sign from the Illuminati, believing they were acknowledging my impending extraordinary act. I felt I was close to achieving something significant.
Although I recognized my walk to the North Pole as an act of madness, a part of me still held onto the hope that God would protect me.
Around Christmas 2019, I got a reply from Barneo informing me that the total cost of a trip to the North Magnetic Pole (not the Geographic Pole) would be approximately
$144,000—yet another sign from the Illuminati. Although traveling to the North Pole wasn’t financially feasible for me, my imagination remained vivid.
I quit smoking weed, believing that by making this sacrifice, God would recognize it and bring paradise to Earth sooner.
I borrowed another $300 from my mom to cover rent and basic expenses, but I kept secret the fact that I had also purchased a plane ticket to Longyearbyen.
I was reflecting on the number 441, the reverse of 144, and my imagination ran wild, defying all logic. Meanwhile, Mark Braun uploaded a video showing an “Interstate 441” sign, which felt like a telepathic message from him: “I know what you’re up to—just be patient, you’ll reach Heaven soon!” I also recalled him saying, “There’s no way to fuck this up,” which seemed directed at me, as if no matter what I did in this life, Heaven would ultimately arrive on Earth.
@Limbo 
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