Category: Uncategorized

January 

I returned home in the evening, and the north wind was blowing fiercely in Split. It was so strong that it felt bitterly cold. That didn’t stop me from going to the garage to retrieve my stash from where it was hidden on the power cords mounted on a metal rail. I rolled a joint but realized it was impossible to smoke outside in that wind, so I went to the lower level of the garage. I barely got high that cold night, and I remember that winter as the coldest of my life. 

Danny and I often went to the place where the Roman soldiers practiced marching drills. Danny had copied the key to the place, so we took advantage of it and went there to smoke weed alone. We’d get high and discuss various topics. We talked about the vastness of space. I wondered that if you could travel at the speed of light, where would you end up? I’ve always imagined our universe as a giant space you could travel through in a spaceship, but eventually, you’d encounter a massive, infinitely thick wall of rock. 

My weed-smoking habits had changed. I no longer smoked the way I used to, slowly inhaling through my mouth and then into my lungs. Now, I inhaled directly into my lungs. The weed didn’t have the same effect as it used to, and I just wanted to consume as much as possible. I was very tired of smoking, but I lacked the strength or will to quit. I even fantasized about being arrested for possession, thinking it would finally force me to stop. 

February 

I decided to quit college. I was in my second year again, and I realized that I no longer had the strength and will to learn. I felt relieved the day I signed the papers saying I was going to drop out. I went to the gay beaches and got high while listening to Jimi Hendrix’s “Freedom. 

I bought a book called “The Power of Intuition” by Gerd Gigerenzer. I tried to guess the price before buying it, and I was right; it was $20. My intuition was already proving useful. One cloudy afternoon, I drove to Kašuni beach to smoke weed and read the book. After getting high, I became engrossed in the reading. I then smoked a bit more. Time passed, but I still didn’t want to go home. 

I had a strange feeling, like a small voice telling me to go home, but I resisted it. Suddenly, a car appeared, and I recognized its license plate: it was an unmarked police car with two men inside. I expected them to simply turn around and leave, but they stopped next to my car and got out. One of them showed me his badge and asked for my ID. He seemed like a good cop. I rolled down the window and handed it over. He asked what I was doing there, and I said I was reading a book. 

He told me to get out of the car, which I did. He thoroughly searched me but found nothing. He asked if I had any drugs in the car, and I said no. Then the other policeman, who seemed like a bad cop, said I should have just told them if I had anything, and nothing bad would have happened. The good cop was still searching my car while the bad cop continued questioning me. Then I remembered I’d put some weed in the driver’s side door compartment, but I hesitated to tell them. They continued searching, and figuring they’d find it anyway, I admitted I had some in the compartment. The good cop found it, and the bad cop started scolding me like a father. I didn’t even argue about him saying earlier that nothing bad would happen; I just resigned myself to going to the police station. The good cop took the weed and got into their car, while the bad cop sat in the passenger seat of my car and instructed me to drive to the station. 

If I hadn’t been high, I probably would have been more shocked. I started driving with him in my car, and he asked me what I was thinking about, and why I was reading a book and smoking weed. I told him I wanted to create a better society where we wouldn’t need the police. He was silent for a few seconds, then started threatening me with a court summons, saying the judge would be merciless. I tried to concentrate on driving, but he became loud and agitated, likely trying to distract me and cause an accident while I was driving high, hoping to get me into even more trouble. 

I somehow managed to drive to the police station in my neighborhood and parked in front. We met the good cop there, and we all went inside. 

As I entered the station, the bad cop gave me a side hug and told me to hang in there. We took the elevator to a room, and they sat me down in a chair between their desks. They took my ID to write a report. They weighed the weed I had, and it was about a gram (1/28 oz). They asked where and from whom I got it, but I refused to say. A third officer arrived, eating a sandwich, and told me to sign the report. Then the good cop began a monologue, saying things like, “Drug dealers have the best money and women, while I read books on Kašuni,” trying to provoke me. I eventually gave in and told him where I got the weed, but I gave him a false location. The good cop and the third officer left the room, leaving me alone with the bad cop. I refused to sign the report, so he marked it as such. He then told me to strip down to my underwear to check if I had any more weed hidden. He asked if I had anything in my underwear, and I said no. I then got dressed, and they let me go home. 

A week later, I received a court summons at my home address and managed to retrieve it without my parents’ knowledge. 

March 

It was Sunday, March 19th, when I went to a choreography training session for the Roman soldier reenactment group I was in.

We had a relaxed training session, and afterward, I hung out with the whole team. Danny invited me for a beer, mentioning that Jim would be there too, so I joined them. We were having a good time when my phone rang. I answered, and my middle brother shouted, “GET HOME QUICKLY!! HENRY FELL OUT OF THE WINDOW!!” I grabbed my things, told Danny and Jim to take care of the drinks bill, and rushed to my car. I drove home, pumped with adrenaline. I ran a red light, seeing no other cars, but at the next intersection, I calmed down and waited for the green light. I made it to my neighborhood and parked near the building. I got out and saw police tape and some blood on the ground in front. I hurried upstairs, took the elevator, and unlocked the door. I found my parents, brother, and sister crying, surrounded by police officers who told us we needed to go to the emergency room. 

I remained calm, and our neighbor drove my parents and me to the hospital. We got into the car and drove in silence. During the drive, I broke the silence, asking, “He’s not going to die, is he?” The silence returned. We arrived at the emergency room, and they took us in to see Henry. He was sedated and connected to life support machines. Seeing him like that, I felt a sense of relief, smiled, and said, “Look at this beautiful boy.” He was just 9 years old. We left the room and went outside. I saw an unmarked police car approaching, and it was the same one I’d seen a few weeks earlier in Kašuni. My brother and sister got out of the car with a police officer, and I recognized him as the “good cop” from Kašuni. He didn’t recognize me, or at least he pretended not to. When I saw my siblings, I smiled, which made my brother angry. We stayed at the emergency room a little longer and then went home. On the way home, I texted Danny, asking if he could lend me some weed because I was out.

He replied that he was about to get high with a girl but had some weed for me. Later, I left my house to meet him, and he arrived by car. He asked what was wrong and why I’d rushed out of the bar earlier, but I didn’t want to tell him. I got high, remaining calm about the whole situation, though I was slightly worried. I returned home to find my family crying, and I joined them, pretending to cry to mask my red eyes. I ate some chocolate and went to sleep. 

The next day, Monday, I messaged my dealer and bought some weed. I could barely hold back tears as I left. I went home, a beautiful, sunny day with no clouds or wind. I dropped off my car keys and then went to a hill near my neighborhood to get high. I could barely walk, dragging my feet. I sat on a bench and started rolling a joint, crying as I did so. I lit it and smoked, sobbing, wondering why this had happened to our family. I questioned what we had done wrong for God to allow this. I returned home to find my family depressed. 

We went to the hospital, to the intensive care unit. My youngest brother was lying on the bed, hooked up to a machine with something in his nostrils. He was the only patient in the room. The doctors told us his life was in danger and that he could die. We all cried and then went home. My middle brother suggested we pray, but I wasn’t in the mood. Another day of sadness and depression passed, and after eating some chocolate, I went to sleep.

The next day, Tuesday, I followed the same routine of smoking weed on the hill. The weather was beautiful. I cried while smoking. Later, we visited my brother in the hospital ward and went through the usual routine. When we got home, I only ate chocolate. Eventually, we went to bed. 

The following Wednesday, when I woke up, my parents told me the doctors had called them. They’d said my youngest brother’s life was in serious danger. We went to the hospital again to see him. We were all calm and didn’t cry much. We went home, and I asked my family if we should call the bioenergetic therapist Ava had recommended to me. My sister dismissed the idea, saying there was no way a bioenergetic therapist could help our brother. I went up the hill to get high again. The weather was beautiful. While high, I messaged the bioenergetic therapist, telling him my youngest brother’s life was in danger and asking if he could do anything. 

He didn’t respond. About a minute later, my mom called. It was 1 p.m., and through tears, she told me Henry had just died. It was March 22, 2017. She told me to come home as quickly as possible. I walked home and called Ava. I was devastated and cried as I told her my youngest brother was gone. She cried too. When I got home, my whole family was crying. I felt an urge to break the TV, or anything, but I resisted. I became angry, and then my father became angry too. We avoided a fight. 

Then Uncle Benny and his friend arrived, both crying. We all hugged and cried together. My grandfather from Split arrived, also crying. My aunts came as well, and we were all devastated by the loss of my youngest brother. I was consumed by guilt, blaming myself for what happened.

My father took me to the hospital to speak with a psychiatrist. The doctor asked if I had ever told my brother to kill himself, and I said no. He then said it was simply an unfortunate circumstance. He told my father I had the option of taking a drug called Zyprexa. My father refused, and I later learned that Zyprexa is an antipsychotic medication. 

The following Thursday, my family and my grandfather from Split went to the morgue to see Henry one last time before the funeral. The attendant brought out a gurney with my younger brother’s covered body. She uncovered him, and there he was, dead, cold, and dressed nicely. We all cried. Even the attendant was crying. I couldn’t accept that he was dead, so I tried to open his eyes, but my grandfather told me to stop. 

I got one last glimpse of what he would have looked like if he were still alive. We left the morgue; it was a beautiful, sunny day. I pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter and lit one in front of my whole family. I figured there was no point in hiding it anymore, now that my little brother was gone. My mother hugged me, and my father just stood there, confused. My siblings and grandfather already knew I smoked. 

The next day was the funeral. The weather was beautiful. We gathered in the church at the Split cemetery, and everyone came to offer their condolences. I looked into the coffin and quietly told my brother to perform a miracle and wake up. The condolences concluded, though many more people wanted to express them. The funeral procession began, and we started to leave the church.

As we exited the church, I put on my sunglasses, stopped the procession, and gathered my family around me. I told them we could get through this, and then we continued the procession. On the way to the grave, I was struck by the silence, punctuated only by birdsong. We reached the grave, a niche in the cemetery wall. They placed the coffin inside, and it was over. Ava came to offer her condolences. Even Stacey came, accompanied, I believe, by her new boyfriend. Then came Jim, Barby Jo, and the rest of my high school friends. Finally, Harry, Danny, and the rest of the Roman soldier reenactment group arrived. Harry asked how I was feeling, and I replied “good.” He then commented that he was pleased with how I looked when Stacey arrived. My reaction was essentially, “Okay, let’s just get this over with. 

After the funeral, we went to the church in our neighborhood for a memorial service. I was calm, but in the middle of the service, I started crying loudly. The priest continued his sermon, while I continued to cry. My father hugged me. It was very uncomfortable, and I don’t know why I didn’t just leave the church to cry outside. Eventually, my crying stopped, and the rest of the service proceeded peacefully. We went home for dinner, and there were many people there. I managed to eat something, but while everyone was talking in pairs or groups, I just wondered why all of this had to happen. After everyone left, I was alone with my parents. 

They told me someone had informed them that I smoke weed. I admitted that I’d been caught with weed about a month prior and had to go to court. We anticipated that the court would order some kind of rehabilitation program. Dad mentioned he knew someone involved with a rehab community. We talked a bit more, and I expressed my desire to sleep with as many women as possible. My dad responded that there would always be someone who’d sleep with more women than me. He added that when I “look the truth in the eyes,” I’ll know, probably referring to some hypothetical woman I was supposed to marry. 

About two weeks later, I went to court. I handed over my ID card, and the judge began the interrogation while a clerk recorded everything. In short, I stated that I’d gotten high on Kašuni beach to make reading my book more interesting. They transcribed everything. The judge then ordered me to a three-month rehabilitation program. 

In April, my parents, sister, and I went to a “spiritual renewal” retreat in Samobor, a town near Zagreb. My brother couldn’t join us because he was at college in Dubrovnik. The retreat was a three-day program that included religious services and the “laying on of hands,” which meant standing in line to have a priest place his hand on your forehead. 

The idea was to experience some kind of divine intervention. It was around this time that Ava recommended a book called “The Biology of Belief” by Bruce H. Lipton. I read it whenever I could, hoping to discover the meaning of life and if there was a way to bring Henry, and everyone else who had died, back to life. One afternoon, we arrived in Samobor and went to our room to unpack. Afterward, we attended mass and then had dinner. We went to sleep, and I dreamed of my youngest brother.

He was crying, and I soon woke up crying as well. My family also woke up, and I exclaimed, “Fuck you, Virgin Mary!” My father scolded me for saying that. I fell back asleep and slept soundly. The next day, we had breakfast, followed by a break before mass. I was in the garden, sitting on a bench and reading “The Biology of Belief.” The book described a scientific approach to life combined with some supernatural ideas. Its main idea was that we ultimately become our thoughts. I went inside to attend mass, and while it was happening, I heard people screaming in another part of the building. 

My parents told me those screams were from exorcisms. The next day was the last of our spiritual renewal, culminating in the laying on of hands. Before it began, the priest led a prayer for the cessation of addiction, negative thoughts, misery, and basically everything unpleasant to the average person. The laying on of hands began, and everyone formed a line. Opposite the priest stood two men, there to assist. I watched what was happening, and the priest indeed placed his hand on people’s foreheads. Some laughed, others cried, and some even fell backward, only to be caught by the two men and gently laid on the ground. Those who fell spent a few minutes lying there before returning to their place in line. I waited my turn, and finally, it was my turn. 

The priest placed his hand on my forehead and gently pushed my head back. I resisted, not wanting to be one of those people who fell to the ground. He told me to relax and placed his hand on my forehead again. I experienced a sort of semiconscious state. I fell backward, feeling as if I’d landed on a cloud. I didn’t feel the two men catching me. I lay on the floor, and after a few seconds, I was back to reality. I got up and returned to my seat.

A few days later in Split, my parents and I went to the rehabilitation community in my neighborhood, and they introduced me to the director. He explained that I would have to take urine tests over three months. My parents left, and this man took me to the hospital for my first test. The doctors explained that each subsequent test would require a lower concentration of weed in my urine. Ironically, I began these tests on April 20th, the day most commonly associated with smoking weed. 

My urine tests were scheduled to be completed on July 20th. After the initial test, we went back to the rehab community, and I realized it was a faith-based, Christian organization. Some residents there made bracelets and rosaries, and I learned how to make them as well. I became quite good at it. The next day, I returned to the community and was with a girl when a song came on the radio. The lyrics mentioned a “window to the sunset,” which immediately brought to mind the window my younger brother had fallen out of. That window faced west, toward the sunset. 

They told me he jumped because they wouldn’t let him watch a movie inappropriate for those under 12. They had also taken away his phone. He then said, in front of his mother, “If the phone is going, I’ll go too,” opened the window, and jumped from the fifth floor. I almost started crying but held back in front of the girl. I went outside for a cigarette. The man in charge of the community approached and told me he knew a carpenter who needed help. The carpenter’s workshop was also in our neighborhood. The man took me to the carpenter, and I helped him feed some planks through a machine. Later, we moved some furniture. When we were finished, the carpenter offered me money, but I refused, as I didn’t think it was a big deal.

He told me he’d call me from time to time for help, since he worked alone, and I agreed. I continued going to the rehab community and taking the urine tests, which were progressing well. One day, while helping the carpenter, he lit a joint during a break. He offered me some, but I declined, citing the urine tests. 

In the following weeks, I settled into a routine of the rehab community, helping the carpenter, and taking urine tests. I was searching for the true meaning of life, who was in control, who or what God was, etc. I stumbled upon a website called returnofkings.com. Ironically, I’d been searching for things like “damn bitch,” referring to Stacey. The website contained content related to the actual behavior of men and women. If you had read the articles there, you could say you had taken the “red pill,” a reference to the movie The Matrix (1999). In the movie, the protagonist is offered a blue pill and a red pill. The blue pill would return him to his normal life, a kind of false reality, while the red pill would transfer his consciousness to the real world, a kind of real hell on earth. Although the red pill would place him in the real world where he had to fight harder for a good fate, it was ultimately better than being in the fake world of blue pills.

The returnofkings.com website was a right-wing site that espoused views against left- wing ideologies like feminism and the perceived decline of patriarchy. It described how women in the Western world had, in its view, morally degraded themselves and were all pretending to be innocent while secretly seeking casual sex. It also claimed that feminists often dyed their hair red or blue and insidiously used their positions of influence. This meant, according to the website, that they abused the human right to freedom of speech and attempted to impose vulgar sexual behavior, gay rights, and other similar ideas. 

I found that a man should be at least somewhat dominant in a relationship because it’s more natural than the alternative. I thought about my relationship with Stacey and how I felt psychologically abused, with no one to adequately help me. 

I learned about something called “The Game,” which referred to a man’s ability to approach and seduce women. I thought back to the Australian girl I’d wanted to sleep with in the summer of 2016. I remembered a moment when I was leaning against the door wearing only a towel. I’d given up on the idea of sleeping with her then, missing an opportunity. What I should have done, according to “The Game,” was go to the couch with her and undress completely. This would give her a reason to have sex with me, a concept called “plausible deniability.” This meant not directly asking a woman for sex but indirectly creating a situation where it would happen. For example, if I had stripped completely in front of her, she would have likely thought, “That’s it, we’re having sex.” The underlying idea was that she would probably tell her friends about it anyway, but she wouldn’t want to appear promiscuous.

I clicked on many articles on returnofkings.com, some of which discussed how morally degraded and perverted Hollywood was, according to the site. I was introduced to the idea that a hidden “elite” group, called the Illuminati, controlled Hollywood, the media, politics, and the rest of the world. The articles claimed that anyone wanting to be a successful actor in Hollywood had to participate in certain rituals to gain control. These rituals allegedly consisted of public or private shaming ceremonies. The articles mentioned homosexuality, pedophilia, zoophilia, and transgenderism. I read about the so-called “27 Club,” comprised of famous singers and actors who died at age 27, including Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain, and Amy Winehouse. I researched further and read that on the night of Amy Winehouse’s death, neighbors reported hearing drums and screams coming from her apartment. I also read about how the Illuminati supposedly sacrificed people in satanic rituals and about the MKUltra (Mind Kontrol Ultra) program. 

This program reportedly involved hypnosis and brainwashing to the point where some people would have a “breakdown.” For example, it was written that actress Britney Spears was a victim of MKUltra and experienced a meltdown, culminating in her shaving her head. I read that the Illuminati use so-called “minor magic” to subtly inform ordinary people of their plans. Since the Illuminati controlled the media and politics, which in turn gave them control of the entire world, they placed subtle signs in movies and news. One example cited was news anchors making a pyramid sign with their hands while delivering the news.

I came across an article about an 11-year-old boy who committed suicide. He had fallen in love with a girl at his school, and after she publicly rejected him, he hanged himself in his closet. It made me both angry and sad. I started crying and showed the article to my father. He was speechless. 

Over time, I developed a conspiracy theory. I believed my younger brother had been abused and sacrificed on the night of his death. In fact, I thought my whole family was the target of some destructive force. I believed I was next and that I would probably die at the age of 27, which was five years away. I was watching the news with my family when I noticed the news anchors making a pyramid shape with their hands. I pointed it out to my family as if I’d made a significant discovery, but they dismissed it as nonsense. 

Summer 2017 began, and I was still attending the rehab community and taking occasional urine tests. One day, after a test, I bought some food and sat down in the park to eat. A guy approached and asked if I had any tobacco; he needed it to roll a joint. I gave him some. After lighting up, he offered it to me, but I declined, explaining that I was in rehab and taking tests. He encouraged me to hang in there, saying I’d be able to smoke weed again in a month, something I was eagerly anticipating. 

My whole family and I moved to a different neighborhood in Split so we could rent out our apartment to tourists. I started working in a carpentry workshop, and since I knew nothing about carpentry, I had to learn everything from scratch. The carpenter gave me some basic tasks, which I performed well. I told Harry I would soon no longer participate in the Roman soldier reenactment group. I wanted to learn a trade and have a real job.

Every Friday, the carpenter’s friends gathered at his workshop for a barbecue, smoking weed and drinking beer. I had to be patient, as July had just begun. 

Ava told me she wanted a small wooden staircase for her apartment and asked if I could make it for her. I accepted, but every time I tried to do something myself, the carpenter would say things like, “Don’t use that type of wood, I need it,” or “You’re not going to do it that way.” It was frustrating because I wanted to learn carpentry, but he constantly blocked me. He had a small female dog that he’d bring to the workshop. 

Every time he returned, he’d find the dog had rummaged through the trash can looking for food. He’d get angry and physically, though mildly, abuse the dog, picking her up roughly and shouting that it was inappropriate. I told him he was exaggerating, but he insisted he was doing nothing wrong. 

The carpenter told me he was divorced and had a son. I met his son when we went to pick him up from kindergarten. One Friday in July, the carpenter’s friends gathered again for a barbecue, weed, and beer. It was just a week before I would be able to smoke weed again. I stared at the fire from the grill, and a few days later, one of the largest, if not the largest, forest fires engulfed the wider area of Split. From our new apartment, we watched flames larger than trees devour pine trees for two days. Fortunately, no one was injured or killed.

July 20th finally arrived, which also happened to be Danny’s birthday. I spent the early afternoon swimming at a gay beach, and later went over to Danny’s apartment. I was the first to arrive, and we celebrated by smoking a joint together. It felt great to be high again, although I kind of wished I’d been able to do it on my own to mark the occasion. 

I also started smoking with the carpenter; he was able to supply me with weed. I was living in a different neighborhood of Split because we were renting our apartment to tourists. One night at the end of July, I went to sleep and my eyes were closed. Suddenly, I saw the pale gray number “10”. It was a strange feeling, and I wondered what it meant. 

August 

One afternoon in early August (either August 4th or 5th), I worked as a Roman soldier with Danny, posing for pictures with tourists. An American man approached us, took a photo with us, gave us a tip, and left. He returned later, asking if we wanted to meet some of the girls he was traveling with. I accepted the offer, while Danny declined. I told the American my shift would be ending soon and that I would meet him later. 

I went to change out of my Roman soldier costume and got dressed. I met the American man near where we’d been taking pictures, and he took me to a nearby apartment. 

Inside, there were indeed two girls. He introduced me, and we started talking. They were drinking and offered me some, which I accepted. We chatted for a while, and they were impressed with my English. One of the girls asked if I could get them some weed, and I told them, “I know a guy.” The American and I exchanged numbers in case they needed anything.

At some point, a guy and one of the girls mentioned they were heading out to buy cigarettes. Once they left, I found myself alone with another girl. By that time, I was fairly intoxicated, and she appeared to be quite drunk as well. She approached me and said, “Let’s have sex.” I led her to a room, and we both undressed. After some foreplay, I mentioned I needed to go back to the living room to grab a condom. I put it on and returned to her. I was on top of her, kissing her before we proceeded further. She then mentioned she had a boyfriend. At one moment, she looked at me with a distant, empty gaze, as if staring into nothingness. 

Then she slapped me, and I slapped her back, thinking she might be into that kind of dynamic. I tried to proceed, but she began to resist. After a brief struggle, I stopped and let go. Realizing something was wrong, I went back to the living room, removed the condom, and threw it away. She left the room angrily, accidentally breaking a glass in the process, and went to the bathroom. I got dressed and messaged the American guy, explaining that the girl was acting strangely and asking where they were. He never responded, so I left the apartment. 

I went to the place where we changed into our Roman soldier costumes to get high and ended up falling asleep there. The next morning, I woke up and we had a performance scheduled on a nearby island. Our group gathered and boarded a boat to the island. The performance was part of a formal event and took place in the afternoon. We delivered a solid performance, and afterward, we enjoyed some time swimming in the sea. In the evening, there was a gala dinner near the venue, and our entire group was invited. I went to remove my Roman costume, and after getting dressed, I checked my phone.

I noticed a missed call from a landline number and called back. It turned out to be the police, who instructed me to come to the local station once I returned to Split. I ended up missing the gala dinner, opting instead to eat canned tuna outside. Later, my friends joined me and mentioned how extravagant the dinner had been, with an abundance of food and a $200 price tag for those who weren’t invited. They laughed when I told them I’d just eaten tuna. 

We all packed up and boarded the boat that was supposed to take us back to Split. Instead of enjoying the warm, starry summer night on the ride back, I was preoccupied, wondering why the police had contacted me. When I finally arrived in Split, I called the police. It was 3 a.m., and they informed me that a police car would come to pick me up. They arrived and took me to the station. Inside, I was seated in a room with a police officer who explained that the girl I had attempted to sleep with the previous day had filed a complaint against me, accusing me of engaging in non-consensual sexual activity. 

It wasn’t classified as rape, but hearing the accusation was still unsettling. They took me to the hospital for a body swab to determine if non- consensual sexual activity had occurred. Afterward, they drove me back to the station. Since it was the middle of the night, they placed me in a detention cell in the basement of the station. At least it was cooler underground. They confiscated my belongings, and I was put in a cell about the size of a small room but with a 15-foot-high ceiling. I was monitored by a camera and given a bed with a blanket. Somehow, I managed to fall asleep. The next morning, the police brought me in for interrogation. They also took photos of the messages on my phone, particularly those exchanged with the American guy.

I was in the office with a police officer, and he mentioned that the American’s statement was helping my case. The American had told the police that the girl who accused me was known to drink heavily and had expressed a desire to get pregnant while traveling in Croatia. It felt like an eternity before they finally released me. My phone and clothes were taken as part of the investigation. I got my phone back weeks later, but I never saw my clothes again. 

A few days after all this, I remembered something: the number 10 that had been stuck in my head. It turned out that exactly 10 days before this incident, an American woman had accused me of non-consensual sex. 

In the fall, we returned to our neighborhood. I had a court case because of the woman who had accused me, and I had to present my side of the story. After the hearing, I never received an official court decision, but my lawyer informed me that the charges had been dropped. 

During this time, I continued to search for deeper truths and grapple with life’s big questions. On the living room counter, there was a picture of my late brother wearing a T-shirt that said “Research.” I took it as a sign from God. Even my mother mentioned having a dream that included some kind of image involving me. When I asked her what it meant, she said it was something I would have to figure out on my own.

I grew tired of returnofkings.com’s “feminism bad, patriarchy good” mantra and turned to YouTube. I watched videos about the Hollywood Illuminati. They described how MKUltra had a sub-program called Monarch, named after a species of butterfly. The name “Monarch” was supposedly chosen because MKUltra victims subjected to programming processes felt dizzy and light, like butterflies. I found a video filled with images of actresses and singers accompanied by butterflies. In another video, I saw various actors and singers covering one eye, supposedly mimicking the all-seeing Illuminati eye. They would also allegedly “draw” the number “666” with their fingers.

Many even made the pyramid sign with their hands and positioned it around their eye, again mimicking the Illuminati’s all-seeing eye. I found a video of Jim Carrey on Jimmy Kimmel Live. When he came on stage, he made the pyramid sign with his hands, placing them around his mouth. He then stuck out his tongue and made various movements. 

He then said he would expose “Illumi-nutty” (a pun) and everything about them. I felt like I had discovered something significant that many people weren’t aware of.

I recalled reading somewhere that actress Queen Latifah supposedly “initiates” other actresses by having sex with them using a strap-on, a type of sex toy involving a fake penis. Months later, I watched a movie starring her, and at one point, she commented on the appearance of another female character, saying something like, “Yes, she is beautiful, she gives me my female erection. 

I watched a video called “All the Truth in 60 Seconds.” It featured a voiceover of a man claiming to reveal truths that many people didn’t understand. One statement that stuck with me was, “There is a dome above your head.” That’s when I started considering the idea that the Earth is flat. 

I found a YouTube channel called Justin Beers. It featured voiceovers discussing various conspiracy theories. He was a “truther” who covered topics such as Hollywood, the Illuminati, flat Earth, and more. He exposed alleged pedophile networks created by a powerful elite, known as “PizzaGate,” because it supposedly centered around a pizza place in an American city. I saw some disturbing videos he presented. One showed a parent dressed as Spiderman playing with a toddler in a way that bordered on child abuse. The baby was placed in a cradle and covered with various toys, presented as normal play, which Justin Beers exposed. In another disturbing video, a person was filmed from the chest up, covered in some kind of white substance, with only their eyes visible. This person said, without blinking, “I’m eating a little baby’s ice cream, it keeps me young.” Justin Beers claimed this video was broadcast on TV.

YouTube recommended a channel called Quasiluminous. He was also a “truther,” but unlike Justin Beers and other truther channels, he had a completely different approach. He was very direct and used profanity. He not only described conspiracy theories but also, between the lines, offered advice on how to become a better human being. His main idea was that the planet Earth is not only flat but also a literal hell, a kind of labyrinth, and you had to reach the center of the labyrinth (the Earth) before you died. 

He spoke of a paradise on Earth that could be established if 144,000 people performed “Blood over intent.” This was a process in which a person writes on a piece of paper, “I intend to bring forth heaven on Earth.” Then, the person waits for an injury or pricks a finger and puts some blood over the written words. The entire process is recorded and uploaded to YouTube with the title, description, and tag: “Blood over intent.”

January 

Quasiluminous, whose real name was Mark Braun, was a 46-47-year-old white man living in Coral Springs, Florida, USA. He was married and had a son. I watched as many of his videos as I could because they were packed with information. In his videos, he discussed his belief that the Earth is flat and that its shape resembles the United Nations logo. 

According to Mark, the North Pole was actually the South Pole because the north end of the compass needle was pointing toward the South Pole. At the true North Pole (which he believed to be the center of the flat Earth) stood an invisible magnetic mountain called Mount Meru. Mark claimed that reaching it before death was crucial. He said, “Either you join me publicly in blood, or you die of old age or stupidity.” Once at Mount Meru, the source of eternal life could be found. Anyone who drank from the waters of eternity there would become an immortal superhuman. It was also said that the tree of life could be found at this location, and it had the power to resurrect the dead. 

Mark talked about the various “viruses” that people had contracted, such as the shoe virus, the religious virus, the gay virus, and the language use virus. He believed that language was a tool for communication, but he also claimed that language is what a computer uses to speak. 

Mark discussed the concept of the deadly trap of the soul. He believed that when you die, you might encounter deceased loved ones who would encourage you to go into the light. However, he warned against entering that light, as he thought these loved ones were actually harmful entities. According to Mark, the light would erase your memories and send you into a new life cycle, placing you in a new embryo on Earth. He claimed that this system of control was created by the Archons, who were reptilian beings seeking to dominate the human race and feed off people’s soul energy. Instead of following the light, Mark suggested that you should enter the darkness, turn your consciousness inward toward your heart, and say “Take me home,” which would bring you to your true home. 

Mark Braun was the final step in my search for the truth. His explanations seemed to make sense, even though I couldn’t completely believe in a flat Earth. At the very least, I became doubtful of the concept of a globe Earth. 

A brief description of the flat Earth theory Mark presented: it resembles the United Nations logo, being shaped like a flat disk surrounded by an ice wall (Antarctica). The Sun is a disk, 32 nautical miles in diameter and 3,000 nautical miles away at noon. It levitates around the Earth, moving in a spiral pattern, which causes the seasons. The Sun begins its yearly journey by spiraling outward from the Tropic of Cancer (North Tropic) on June 21, and when it reaches the Tropic of Capricorn (South Tropic) on September 23, it spirals inward. This process repeats. Above the Earth, there’s said to be a glass dome. When traveling with a compass, you’re essentially circling the Earth, as the compass always points north.

I saw that the United Nations logo was divided into exactly 33 sections.

It was a hint from the Illuminati, suggesting they controlled this place, as the number 33 holds special significance to them. 

Mark’s statements were often difficult to comprehend. He would say things like, “One side of the light hole is the black hole, the Sun above you is Jesus, and it must place its light in the holy hole at the center of the flat Earth plane. Through this process, the great dragon Typhon was born.” 

Mark would say things like, “You’ll either publicly join me in blood, or you’ll die from your own fucking stupidity. When you have sex with someone, you’re a necrophile because everyone is considered dead when they arrive,” and so on. He believed everything was controlled by the law of the sea and the law of the land. According to him, if you’re “lost at sea,” you are “presumed dead in the eyes of your masters.” This meant that you are seen as a vessel that holds your spirit, which, in his view, is your true self. Mark discovered a form of lesser magic in wordplay. For example, he said that you aren’t “born” by a doctor, but “berthed” by a “dock-tor,” referencing the law of the sea (explanation: “dock” is a sea dock, and “doc” refers to the one who accepts you at the dock). He believed that when you’re born, your footprints are taken and sent to the Vatican, symbolizing that they are taking your soul/soles (since “soul” and “sole” both refer to the foot). This, according to Mark, makes you a stillborn—dead upon arrival. He also argued that when you fill out forms with your first and last name, you’re essentially using your “strawman name.” He believed that looking at a blank form with empty spaces reveals that the true spirit has no name, age, or other identity. 

I’ve come to realize that there is a lot of lesser magic in the world. This suggests that the Illuminati or some other group has embedded subconscious messages everywhere, so that in the end, you wouldn’t even recognize their influence unless they explicitly told you. These hidden messages are in movies, TV shows, and even in the words and language we use. You’re constantly in a state of war. For instance, the typical American flag is actually a military flag because the U.S. is always at war. In the image below, you can see the real flag placed over the usual one. This flag is supposed to be used during peacetime, which never truly happens. 

There’s a lot of wordplay related to the concept of war. For example, every morning you wake up and put on your “war-drobe,” and then you go to “war-k” (work), essentially meaning “war.” 

Mark introduced me to the concept of reverse speech. He explained that when you record something and play it backward, you can hear hidden subconscious messages. While these messages aren’t always clear or easily recognizable, with enough focus, you can make out the words. For example, when the phrase “I love you” is played backward, it sounds like “We evil yeah,” but Mark interpreted it as “We will die.” Similarly, “God loves you” played backward becomes “We shall die.” He also pointed out that when former U.S. President Barack Obama’s famous motto “Yes we can” is reversed, it sounds like “Thank you Satan.” Other examples include reversing “You’re officially dead and a necrophiliac” to hear “I leave for heaven in a nice new ship, hurry!” and many more. 

Mark would occasionally Skype with a woman named Venus_14, who was a white woman from Los Angeles. Her real name was Phoebe Rosa Castillo, and Mark once referred to her as his personal assistant/manager. During their Skype conversations, they would discuss everything Mark talked about in his videos.

I noticed that in the comments of Quasiluminous’s videos, a person named Saturn often appeared. He commented that Quasiluminous is “mythical.” Mark Braun, now claiming to be Satan, said that he was the Devil incarnate. He explained that he had fully taken on the role of the devil with all his blood, and anyone who tried to oppose this would have to kill themselves on the spot. He quoted 2 Corinthians 4:4, saying, “This is my fucking world.” Curious, I looked up the Bible verse, and it read: “Satan, who is the god of this world, has blinded the minds of those who do not believe. They are unable to see the glorious light of the Good News. They do not understand this message of the glory of Christ, who is the exact likeness of God.” 

I wondered whether I should do Blood Over Intent because it went against everything I had been taught, including making a blood contract and aligning with Satan. One night, as I drifted between reality and the dream world, I suddenly “saw” the number 30 in my mind. It reminded me of when I saw the number “10” before having sex with that American girl who later sued me. I fell asleep and woke up the next day, still puzzled about the meaning of the number. I realized it must be connected to January 30, so I googled significant events from that day. When I checked the Wikipedia page for January 30, I was shocked to find that in 1835, there was an assassination attempt on 

U.S. President Andrew Jackson. Since my name is Andrew, I felt like I had uncovered something important, and that I might be a threat to the Illuminati or the Archons, who might try to kill me. I interpreted it as a warning or some sort of divine intervention, suggesting that Blood Over Intent was the right path to take because it was good.

I waited patiently for January 30, praying to God that everything would turn out well. One afternoon, I went to the gay beaches to watch the sunset, and afterward, I saw a boat sailing by with a light that changed from green to red. I decided to count to 10: if the light was green, I’d do Blood over intent; if it was red, I wouldn’t. But before I even started counting, I realized that red could mean both “don’t do that” and “red is the color of blood.” I quickly dismissed the idea and went home. 

When January 30 finally arrived, I went to buy donuts. I stopped to eat in front of the store, and a woman approached me asking if I had any money. I gave her a few dollars, and we started talking. I told her about Blood over intent, and surprisingly, she seemed to find the idea pleasant. 

It was a pleasant idea for me as well. I remembered something Mark Braun had said: “If you stand firm in truth, you will gain the favor of your Creator.” I also thought that if my intention was good and pure, God would indeed be on my side. 

The next day, I decided to make a Blood over intent video. I used a blue marker to write, “I intend to bring heaven to Earth and release all from bondage.” Then came the difficult part – I had to draw some of my blood. I didn’t want to wait for an injury, so I took a razor blade and cut the inside of my left index finger, closer to the palm rather than the tip. It barely scratched the surface, and it was already painful. I pushed through the discomfort and managed to get some blood by squeezing the wound. I turned on the camera and recorded a shot of the paper with the words written on it.

I said, “I intend to bring heaven to Earth and release all from bondage,” then placed some of my blood over the written words and finished filming. I posted the video on YouTube with the title, tag, and description “Blood over intent.” A few hours later, I started receiving my first subscribers and comments. One person commented, “Witnessed, blood.” Others commented, “Blood is thicker than water.” Later, I saw that Quasiluminous had re- uploaded my video to his channel with the title “Proof of Life Andrew.” I felt a bit exposed at first, worried that someone might Google me and discover my strange ritual, but as time passed, it started to feel less and less strange to me. 

February 

In one of his videos, Mark Braun mentioned that he was “standing on gallons of motherfucking blood.” He explained that, because he had donated blood multiple times, he had received several “one-gallon certificates” from the South Florida Community Blood Centers. Mark also had another channel called The Prince of Darkness, where he posted a video on 07/06/2015.

The video was titled “The Prince of Darkness Speaks” and was age-restricted. In it, Mark Braun was publicly declaring that he was indeed The Prince of Darkness, believing that this declaration would eventually grant him supernatural powers. The description of the video read: “I, the Prince of Darkness, intend to love everyone and intend to bring Heaven to Earth. Prince of Darkness (Avoid the 1st light you see after death, it is a trap for your soul). Head towards the darkness and turn your consciousness inward into your heart and say ‘Take me home.’ You will be home instantly.” 

I have been known by many names: 

Antichrist, Apollo, Nimrod, Brahma, Ra. 

I am here as an extension of The Grand Architect, tasked with bringing Heaven to Earth. My mission is to free everyone from the constraints of time and money. Heaven will manifest on Earth in your lifetime. 

In one of Ǫuasiluminous’s videos, he explained that you can unlock supernatural powers by following his method. You choose your unique deity, create a video similar to Mark’s on his “The Prince of Darkness” channel, make it age-restricted, and upload it. 

He also mentioned the concept of the Matrix Verification Code#, which is a kind of test. The question was, “When does 2/1 = 333?” The answer, according to him, was February 1st because there are 333 days left in the year from that date.

I chose a Greek deity named Aeolus, the ruler of the winds. I researched other gods I could consider and found various names online, such as Vayu, Ehecatl, and Szélatya. To make sure no one else had used them, I searched for videos like “Vayu speaks” or “Ehecatl speaks” on YouTube. After confirming that these names were available, I created a new YouTube channel called “Aeolus.” I wrote my intention to bring heaven to Earth once again, wrote “Aeolus” beneath those words, added some of my blood on top, and began recording. The video showed a piece of paper with the blood on it while I said, “I am Aeolus and I intend to bring forth Heaven on Earth and release everyone from bondage.” I then uploaded the video to my Aeolus channel and included this description:  

“I, Aeolus, intend to love everyone and intend to bring Heaven to Earth. 

Aeolus (Avoid the 1st light you see after death, it is a trap for your soul). Head towards the darkness and turn your consciousness inward into your heart and say ‘Take me home.’ You will be home instantly. 

They called me by many names: 

Vayu

Shu

Ehecatl 

Szélatya 

(I forgot the 5th name) 

Matrix Verification Code#” 

I wrote “2/1=Y3ST3RD3Y” because I uploaded the video on 02/02/2018, and 02/01 was the previous day. I found it interesting that the matrix code verification number lined up so perfectly with the date. The following day, an earthquake with a magnitude of 4.3 struck near Makarska, which made me believe that my videos could alter reality and have an impact on events. 

Mark Braun suggested in his videos that we all create “Holy Grail videos” that point to the Holy Grail, which he believed was located in the center of the flat Earth. We were encouraged to either repost videos about it or create our own. I wanted to be as original as possible, so I thought back to movies or TV series I had watched that might contain hidden messages. One film that stood out was “Total Recall”, which I had watched multiple times. In one scene, the protagonist has an alien encounter where he flies over a location and discovers a button with a palm and four fingers engraved on it. Inspired by this, I opened Google Earth and flew to the North Pole. When I zoomed in between the North Pole and Russia, I noticed a white line that resembled the “frost bridge” leading to the magnetic mountain.

Around the North Pole, there was a sea with underwater trenches. When I watched the scene from “Total Recall” where the protagonist flies over the ice, the grooves in the ice seemed to match the underwater trenches I saw on Google Earth. As he flew back to the button with the engraved hand with four fingers, I interpreted it as a reference to the North Pole, especially since four rivers flowed from there. I then downloaded DU Screen Recorder, an app that captures both the screen and audio from my phone, and began recording my first Holy Grail video. After uploading it, I gained a few more subscribers and received some comments. 

I then took a screenshot on my phone of an episode of “South Park”, where the characters were discussing a lawsuit against a deceased person. They initially thought it was impossible to sue the dead, but the lawyer explained that anyone could be sued. This seemed like a reference to how court cases usually work, where people are summoned, and in this case, even the dead could be summoned. It reminded me of my own summons, the one I received when I was caught with weed. Instead of addressing me directly, like “Andrew, please come to court,” it was written in the third person, like “Andrew is summoned to court.” 

Saturn, another channel associated with Mark, had a video titled “Beat Any Court Case.” Although I couldn’t locate that specific video, I found the same content uploaded by another channel. In the video, he explained that all modern courts are rooted in witchcraft and the ancient Babylonian court systems. He pointed out that when you are summoned to court, it’s typically done in the third person singular. Upon arriving in court, you automatically present your ID, and the legal procedure begins from there. You have the opportunity to defend yourself in court by handling your name correctly. Instead of saying “I am Andrew,” you should say “Andrew is indeed present in court.” This would confuse the judge and make them realize they have no control over you. The key is how you address your name. In a Skype conversation with Venus_14, Mark shared an experience where he went to court and stunned the judge. He handled his name properly, which caused the judge to leave the courtroom. Mark stayed put, and the judge returned dressed as a priest. Mark persisted, and the judge left again. When the judge came back a third time, he was in full captain’s attire. Once again, Mark handled his name correctly, and the judge left for the last time. Only then did Mark leave the courtroom, having won the case. 

I found another cartoon called “Conan the Barbarian.” In one episode, Conan fought reptiles disguised as humans. When he killed them with his sword, the magic broke, and they transformed back into reptiles before running away. I recorded this scene and uploaded it to YouTube with the title “Reptilian Shapeshifters.” 

Another prominent figure in the Blood Over Intent community was The Angel of Death. He appeared to be in his late 30s or early 40s and was white. His name was Adam Rudseal. He frequently uploaded videos discussing the Bible and showed great knowledge of it. His content often featured rock music, and he occasionally posted about Hinduism as well. Sometimes, his videos aligned with my thoughts, leading me to believe that both he and Mark Braun were aware of everything about me.

The Angel of Death posted a video with a title that included the words “Rakija” (a Croatian word for ”alcoholic beverage”) and “adomeaboveyourhead.” This further reinforced my belief that he had a deep understanding of me. 

In some of Quasiluminous’s videos, he delved into the nature of our reality, highlighting how many logos from famous brands contained symbols like rings, eyes, or cubes. For instance, the Nike logo included a portion of a ring, and the Mastercard logo had two interlocking circles, which represented the shape of our reality. Quasiluminous also pointed out that the Alfa Romeo logo depicted a dragon or reptile devouring a man, symbolizing the idea that reptiles rule over humans, with humans being considered the food class. Additionally, he suggested that the Windows logo represented the four rivers flowing from the North Pole. 

Mark explained how barcodes, found on most products, have a specific arrangement of numbers and letters, each carefully chosen with significance. He also introduced me to sigils, which are symbols created by writing out a specific intention or desire on paper. Once the sigil is formed, it is then burned to release the intention into the universe, a practice that ties into Mark’s broader teachings about the power of symbols and their role in manifesting reality. 

To create a sigil, you first choose a phrase that represents your intention, such as “I intend to bring forth heaven on earth.” Then, you remove the vowels and any repeating consonants, leaving you with something like “NTDBRGFH.” Next, you write this phrase in black letters on a piece of paper and mirror it with red letters above the black ones. You surround the sigil with a triple border and place two circles on the left side, one red above the black one. I made my first sigil to assist a flooded area in my country. My second sigil was for my uncle Benny’s healing, to help with his hands and arms. I’ve since made more sigils, focusing on intentions like world peace and bringing heaven to earth. 

March 

I created a few more videos about the holy grail, but eventually, I ran out of ideas. 

One day, I came across the book “God is Young” by Pope Francis, which my brother had bought. I read a portion of it, and the Pope wrote, “When he thinks of God, he sees a young man – God is always new.” For a moment, I wondered if I was that God, though I hadn’t yet figured out how to use my supposed superpowers. I also started to suspect that the Pope might be part of the Illuminati and that he somehow knew about me. In another part of the book, the Pope wrote something like, “To be good Christians, we must ‘dirty our feet’…” This made me think it was a reference to my experience with that woman in Barcelona, where we had been on the side of the road in the bushes. 

One evening, I visited Danny’s house, and he was wearing a T-shirt featuring the Illuminati all-seeing eye. 

I asked him if he was a member of the Illuminati, and he went to grab a pair of scissors. At first, I thought he was going to harm me, but instead, he cut out a sticker from his T- shirt and handed it to me. When I read it, I was surprised to find it referenced “Galatians 6:17,” a verse from the Bible. The verse said, “From now on, let no one cause me trouble, because I wear the marks of Jesus on my body.” While I was relieved that I hadn’t been hurt and that everything was tied to a Bible verse, I was still puzzled as to why Danny would wear such a T-shirt.

One afternoon, I hiked up a mountain on the north side of Split, where I had previously grown weed. It was a sunny day, and the sunset was approaching. I recalled Mark Braun’s advice about looking at the Sun while standing barefoot on non-conductive ground, either in the morning or late afternoon, and speaking your intent to it. Although all I found at the top of the mountain were rocks, it didn’t bother me. I got barefoot, gazed directly at the setting Sun and said, “I intend to bring Heaven to Earth, kindly give me the knowledge of the ages so that I may accomplish my purpose.” At that moment, I was reading the Bible and remembered Isaiah 40. It was verse 9, and it read, “You who bring good news to Zion, go up to a high mountain. You who bring the good news to Jerusalem, lift up your voice with a shout, lift it up, do not be afraid; say to the cities of Judah, ‘Behold your God!’”. I hesitated to shout from the top of the mountain, debating whether to yell, “God, get us out of the hands of evil!” I gathered my courage over a few minutes, seeing all of Split below and wondering if anyone would hear me. Eventually, I shouted, “GOD, GET US OUT OF THE HANDS OF EVIL!!” It felt 1% uncomfortable but 99% liberating. Afterward, I went home. 

The next day, I went to Danny’s place, and we smoked weed while watching TV. He had some palo santo, a fragrant wood that burned with a pleasant smell. At one point, he pulled out a small, dark purple rolled-up piece of paper tied with black thread and handed it to me. He told me to open it and read it. The words were barely visible, written in black, and they said something like “… my soul shines high…”, followed by the signature “babe”.

As soon as I read it, I felt a wave of nausea. I started to think that I was under some kind of spiritual attack, possibly exposed to black magic. I began to suspect that Danny was involved with the Illuminati and that they knew about me shouting to God from the mountain. The phrase “… shines high…” seemed like a reference to my position on the mountain and my soul, which I believed to be pure. In my slightly dizzy and disoriented state from the weed and the unsettling message, Danny asked me what was wrong, but I struggled to find the right words. I handed the message back to him, and somehow, we were able to continue our conversation normally. I didn’t mention the spiritual attack or black magic; I just said I felt strange after reading the message. He didn’t have anything particularly significant to add, though I don’t remember the exact details. The conversation shifted to discussing homosexuality, and he mentioned a situation where a gay man was in front of him, but Danny said he couldn’t do anything with him because it was “disgusting.” He used the same word I had used when I was at the gay beaches. I began to think that Danny was connected to the Illuminati, part of a larger network of people who knew every detail of my thoughts and actions. I recalled Mark Braun’s statement about the Archons being able to replay someone’s entire life on a computer screen. I felt like I was being followed, monitored, and persecuted by the Illuminati. 

The second time we got high at Danny’s, we watched “The Matrix” (1999). As I stared at the digital clock on the DVD player under the TV, I thought I could “sync with the time and master it.” In my mind, I started counting down from 7 to 0, and when I hit zero, the clock moved forward by a minute. It reminded me of the times back in elementary school when I used to guess the correct time by counting down from 10 to 0. 

I kept watching the movie and really enjoyed it. In the final scene, the main character, Neo, played by Keanu Reeves, dies and then comes back to life. As I watched that part, I got so excited that I cheered and clenched my fists. Danny asked me why I was acting that way, and I explained that I was so moved by Neo’s achievement because I felt like I was seeing myself in him. 

After that, I tried multiple times to stare at the clock and guess the exact time when the minutes would change. I came across a video from a member of the Blood over Intent movement, where he analyzed the meaning of letters and numbers. When he discussed the letter Q, he explained that it was like an “O” with a small line, and that it represented “one goes to zero.” This idea made me want to become “the one.” 

One day, as I was walking home, I heard a phone ringing in a phone booth about 15 feet away. It reminded me of a scene from “The Matrix” I had recently watched, where characters transition from one world to another by answering a phone call. I thought that if I answered it, I could escape this matrix for good. It was a strange feeling, but before I could act on it, the phone stopped ringing, and I just continued walking away. 

I had some thoughts about members of the Blood over Intent movement, like Mark Braun, The Angel of Death, and Venus_14. As I mentioned before, some of their videos seemed to reflect my own ideas and thoughts. For instance, one night I decided to sleep on the floor because I was curious and thought that the hard surface might help my lower back, which had been injured while rowing. A few days later, I was watching a Skype conversation between Mark and Venus, and at one point, Mark said something directed at people who hadn’t or wouldn’t do Blood over Intent. He asked, “What have you given up in this life? Have you tried sleeping on the floor for one night?” It made me believe that not only the bad people from the Illuminati were aware of my every move, but also the good people from the Blood over Intent movement. My suspicions grew stronger after watching one of Mark’s videos, where he said, “I’ve been shown things that would shake you to your motherfucking core!” I started to think that he might have somehow seen my deceased brother Henry in the morgue. 

Some of the other members of the Blood over Intent movement included ZEU5, Mary Barnes Mackovich, Kel Dy-nasti (I hope that’s the correct spelling), and a woman whose channel was called Lucifer. 

I realized that Mark Braun was very insightful because sometimes he would say things that were both logical and humble. For example, he mentioned that when you try to lift something off the ground, you are essentially bowing down to it. He also pointed out that when you point a finger at someone, you are actually pointing three fingers back at yourself, reminding us to be mindful of how we judge others. 

I went for a spring swim with Ava, and we were alone on the beach. I wanted to have sex with her, but I struggled with maintaining an erection. Even when I managed to penetrate her, I would climax within seconds. It felt like I couldn’t have normal sex anymore. Frustrated, I went home and watched Mark Braun’s videos. In one of his Skype conversations with Venus, he laughed and mentioned the phrase “One pump chump.” I couldn’t help but feel like it was directed at me. 

Mark again mentioned in a video on The Prince of Darkness channel that he was on Earth in the name of the Grand Architect. I recalled that in his description, he had written, “I am here on behalf of the Grand Architect…”. I created my own description as Aeolus, but left out that part, thinking no Grand Architect had sent me. This led me to believe that I must be the Grand Architect myself and somehow have a hand in making decisions about everything. I began to think I was God but wasn’t fully aware of it yet. 

However, I didn’t want to get carried away and preferred to stay rational and humble. 

But one day, the Angel of Death posted a video about Trimurti, the trinity of the supreme deity in Hinduism. It consisted of Brahma, the creator, Vishnu, the guardian, and Shiva, the destroyer. I can’t remember the description clearly, but it read something like, “X is first, Y is second in progress. You’re the third.” I thought it was addressed to me. I thought that they and I were somewhat special and that we were on a special mission here on this Earth.

Mark Braun used to say “Your creator is watching” in his videos. I thought it was also aimed at me because I was that creator, and I started watching his videos. 

I continued drawing sigils and made about ten of them with the intention of world peace and the general welfare of everyone in the world. I used A4 paper, creating a large triple border near the edge. I then created a smaller triple border in the center, filling it with calligraphy in black and mirrored red letters. Below the smaller border, I wrote the wish and the resulting consonants. I planned to make a video about the Holy Grail in which I would burn all the sigils, hoping it would change our reality. 

I discovered a Quasiluminous video in which a guy who knew a lot about ancient magic was talking about King Solomon’s brass vessel. There were only short clips from the original one-hour video, but they were enough to grab my attention. The guy described how to perform an invocation ritual that uses a raised, table-like platform.

I wanted to make a replica of that table and burn the sigils above it. I didn’t truly believe it would change our reality, but I was hoping it might. I wanted to at least try, especially considering my good intentions. 

One day I was at the carpenter’s workshop when a friend of his came to visit. The friend asked me if I wanted to work for him for a day. I agreed, as there wasn’t much work at the carpentry workshop at the time. I joined some of his regular crew, and we went to remodel an old house in the center of Split. I used a jackhammer and carried bags of construction debris, like old tiles and pieces of concrete. Later, we had to dig a trench for the water pipes. I returned home happy because I had been productive and earned good pay. 

While watching YouTube, I saw a video posted by Mark (I was subscribed to some of the “Blood over Intent” members, including Saturn) of him using a pneumatic hammer to dig a trench for water pipes. This reinforced my belief that he was one of the “good guys” who knew my every move and was, for some reason, imitating my actions. Or perhaps I was imitating his. 

I planned to make a bunch of sigils and a replica of that table. I was getting more and more ideas about what to write on them. I wanted to address as much of reality as possible, meaning I wanted to change the world and the rest of the universe forever. I would write simple sentences like, “Let there be peace.”

After removing the vowels and extra consonants, I was left with “LTHRBPC.” I first wrote it in pencil to create a good template. I wanted it to look good in calligraphy, so I bought thin felt-tip pens in black and red. The manuscript consisted of beautiful calligraphic curves, with varying line thickness. Once I had the letter template, I would paint over it with black and red ink, emphasizing calligraphic details like thin and thick lines. I made many sigils, such as “Let 144,000 bring heaven on Earth,” “Let there be no pain,” “Let there be no infrastructure,” “Let everyone understand each other,” and many others. 

I bought some large candles, intending to melt them down to create a large slab of wax on which everything would be placed. In March, there was a mineral and gem fair in my city, which I attended. I bought about 20 different crystals and minerals to decorate the table. I decided against using a crystal ball like the one in the video. When my brother died, Danny had given me a small crystal, hoping it had healing properties. I included that crystal in my collection. I went to a hardware store and bought metal plates on which I planned to melt the wax. I also bought small candles to place underneath the plates to generate enough heat. I had some money left over from side jobs I’d done for a friend of the carpenter, but sometimes I had to ask my parents for money. When they asked what it was for, I told them I would explain later. They agreed. I kept the writing and drawing of sigils a secret from them. My father went to Spain on the El Camino pilgrimage and was away for those months. My brother was studying in Dubrovnik, my sister in Denmark, and I was living with my mother. I had plenty of space and privacy to draw the sigils. I had my own table, the necessary materials, and a lot of patience. 

When I conceived a sigil, for example, “Let there be no pain,” I meticulously analyzed each word, consulting dictionaries. I would start with “Let,” whose definition was “to allow something to happen or for someone to do something without doing anything to stop the action or giving their permission.” I would then analyze the words “allow,” “something,” “happen,” and so on, until I reached a point where the words could no longer be broken down. Only then did I consider the sigil “approved.” It was like zooming in on an image and analyzing every pixel to understand its composition. I was extremely thorough, but I had my reasons, and those reasons were for the benefit of every being everywhere. 

One day, while I was at home, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find two women. They introduced themselves as Jehovah’s Witnesses and asked if I wanted to join them. I told them they knew nothing of the truth and that this was Satan’s world. I quoted 2 Corinthians 4:4, which confused them, but they persisted, so I began arguing with them. I was arguing with these, in my view, misguided souls, when my mother came to the door. She tried to close it, but I continued the argument. I told the Jehovah’s Witnesses they should perform the “Blood over intent” for Heaven’s sake. My mother returned and told me to close the door and leave them alone, which I finally did. A few days later, Mark Braun released a video in which he filmed Jehovah’s Witnesses at his front door in Coral Springs, Florida. He quoted 2 Corinthians 4:4 to them and went through a practically identical situation as I had. I felt that Mark and I were connected on a deeper level. 

April 

In April, I decided to build the table at home. I envisioned a large, square wax slab measuring 6 feet by 6 feet. It was to have wax candles in the corners for support, just like the original table. I planned to arrange all the sigils on it before burning them. I was making good progress with the sigils, having created about 50 to 60 by then. The topics ranged from anti-war and anti-pain to knowledge and other subjects. I had a strong feeling that these sigils were incredibly important, and I imagined the Illuminati/Archons were going crazy because of them. One night, I googled “Grand Architect” and one of the search results was a drawing of a man sitting at a table with papers in front of him. I felt it was a hidden subliminal message meant for me because I saw a strong resemblance to what I was doing. 

I read somewhere that sigils could be “charged.” One method described involved masturbating or having sex, and then, at the moment of orgasm, staring at the sigil symbols to “charge” it, supposedly making the desired outcome happen sooner and more effectively. This is why, most of the time when I masturbated, I tried to do so selflessly, for Heaven on Earth. I would take a piece of paper with a sigil drawn on it, and as I approached climax, I would stare at it. I had to resist the urge to close my eyes or look at myself. I would reach orgasm and ejaculate while staring at the sigil. It was a strange feeling because I didn’t feel anything in particular.

I took a break from making sigils, as I had become quite consumed by it. I went for a bike ride around the peninsula and then headed to the center of Split. I stopped for a break in an area called Matejuška. I noticed some interesting drawings on the ground, made of stone slabs, and took pictures of them for fun. A few days later, while scrolling through my phone’s gallery, I noticed the image of the drawing had three white spots on it, as if someone had used Photoshop. I hadn’t altered the image in any way, and I suspected the Archons had done it to scare me. 

May 

By mid-May, I had drawn approximately 96 sigils. Each one described Heaven on Earth in its own unique way. I created every sigil to cover every aspect of Heaven on Earth, hoping that burning them would somehow bring it into being. In one of The Angel of Death’s videos, it was recounted how a young Mark Braun had filmed Coral Springs police officers beating a woman for no apparent reason. Mark streamed his recording live so the police couldn’t delete it. In the video, police officers surrounded Mark’s house and threatened to break in without a warrant. He was on the balcony, visibly scared, when the police burst into his house, shouting, “GET DOWN ON THE GROUND, GET DOWN ON THE GROUND, NOW!!” The recording ended abruptly. Then, The Angel of Death released a reversed version of the police breaking into Mark’s house. The officers, who had been shouting to get down, were now heard, in reverse, shouting, “I’m the guy with the knife, the guy with the knife.” The next scene showed Mark in a hospital bed, beaten and with a deliberately inflicted wound on his arm.

I saw another video of Mark and Venus talking on Skype, where Mark said, “If they want to catch you, they’ll catch you.” I believed the police were working for the Illuminati and were searching for anyone who threatened their world order. I thought they were looking for me as well. First, they’d caught me with the weed. Then, I saw the same police officer on the night of my brother’s suicide. 

Then one day, I had lunch on the balcony with my dad and Uncle Benny. I saw a police officer entering the police station wearing black gloves and carrying a black garbage bag. I think my dad and Uncle Benny had gotten a little drunk, and everyone was happy. They offered me more meat and potatoes, even though I didn’t want any more. Immediately after I saw the police officer, they insisted I eat a little more and then remarked to each other that I should feel good. 

I believed that if I burned my sigils, the police would invade my home, torture me, and kill me. I felt that I was being persecuted not only by the police, but by the entire world, with the exception of the 144,000 good people. 

At night, while I was drawing sigils and organizing the development of the table, I would hear the sound of police cell phones near the police station. 

One day, while sitting on the balcony on the 5th floor, I saw a man in the square walking by wearing a hat with a black and white checkerboard pattern. He looked up at me and pointed at his hat. I believed he was a member of the Illuminati, as the checkerboard pattern is associated with them, and I interpreted his gesture as a warning to “be careful with my actions.” 

One night, while cycling around the peninsula, I noticed a couple walking ahead of me. The guy was on the phone, and as I passed by, he said, “yes, he just passed us.” I thought he was talking about me, but I also wondered if he had seen someone he knew. As I continued my ride, I didn’t see anyone else until I finished my route. I concluded that the guy was part of the Illuminati and was intentionally messing with me. 

I felt a strong calling to create the sigils on the table, believing it to be a sacred act that no one else in the world had done, either before or after me. While there might have been some copies of the table I was making, I wondered if anyone had ever drawn all the sigils that I had drawn. 

I would stay up all night, drawing as many sigils as I could, sometimes falling asleep at dawn. I’d wake up around noon and watch new YouTube videos. One day, The Angel of Death released a video with a heavy-metal song in the background that included the words, “Are you with us or against us? Choose your fucking side!” I thought he knew I had fallen asleep, and that this was his way of criticizing me. 

Mark Braun claimed that he was the Devil and that he held the Spear of Destiny. A few months ago, he started learning the plumbing trade. I believed he and I were connected, especially because of my time spent drawing sigils. These sigils had triple borders painted in black, red, and green. Mark, who had been an apprentice plumber, worked on projects called “ground rough,” where he would dig trenches for future pipes. Instead of using spray paint on the ground, he would tie red and green ropes in perpendicular directions to outline the trenches. These ropes resembled the patterns of my sigils. I began to think that the world was a game, and I was a special player, along with 144,000 others, including Mark, Venus, and The Angel of Death. 

In mid-May, I completed all the sigils and one morning, I cut them all out for further burning. Each sigil was 6”x3”, and there were 96 A4 sheets with holes of the same size in the middle. After cutting them all out, I felt a sense of accomplishment because there were times when I had to repeat a sigil due to ink smudges or mistakes, forcing me to start over. Once I finished, I arranged all 96 sigils on the floor in the shape of a circle, and the dimensions of the table seemed adequate for the display. 

The next step was to create a table made of wax. I bought several large candles with the intention of melting them to form the table. To shape the borders, I used L-profiles made of plastic, planning to pour the melted wax into them. I melted the wax using small candles as the heat source, placing the wax on a metal plate. There were numerous times I failed to create the table, and once, I even burned the wooden floor of my room with a small candle that continued burning after it had finished. 

Mark appeared on a Florida radio talk show, and he later posted the audio from the show as a YouTube video. You could hear both his voice and that of the hosts. During the show, Mark talked about the concept of Heaven on Earth and the idea of Blood over intent. The host commented that even though Mark’s language was vague and filled with swearing, she could still feel love radiating from him. Towards the end of the interview, Mark asked the hosts if they knew what was the most secret thing. When they asked him to elaborate, he responded by asking, “Who has Satan’s direct e-mail?” After they admitted they didn’t know, he answered, “Nobody,” and a large green exclamation mark appeared on the YouTube video. 

I believed I was that “Nobody” because, from my point of view, all the things that seemed like coincidences were actually signs pointing to something much deeper. 

One day, I was by myself at home and decided to undress. I faced Jerusalem while reading the Bible, believing it was necessary for bringing Heaven to Earth. 

One day, I came across a forgotten chapter that led me to conclude that my wax table was a positive thing, and I decided to cut some of my hair to burn it along with the sigils. I read Psalm 119, verse 119, which said, “You cast away all the wicked on earth like slag; that’s why I love your laws.” The Croatian translation interpreted it as: “… therefore I kiss your laws.” After reading that, I literally kissed the Bible in front of me. I also came across another verse that warned those who lean on their elbows while reading the Bible should be ashamed. From then on, I was always careful not to lean on my elbows when reading, whether sitting or lying down.

The next day, while my mom was working in the afternoon, I practiced burning my sigils. I used giant tweezers to hold and light the old sigils, burning them in my room. 

Suddenly, I heard sirens outside, and I thought that my sigil-making days were over. But when I looked out the window, I saw it was just a fire truck passing through the neighborhood before leaving. I thought someone must have called the fire department because of the smoke from the sigils. I quickly returned the sigils to their secret place. 

I went to the bathroom and cut my hair with scissors, collecting it in makeshift paper bags to burn along with my sigils. Afterward, I hid the bags in their secret place. When my father came home from Spain, he was shocked to see that I’d cut my hair in half. He asked why the hallway smelled of smoke, and I realized the smoke from my burning sigils had filled the hallway, leading someone to call the fire department. I told him I was lighting something, and we managed to avoid discussing the real reason behind my haircut. He went to a neighbor to get shaving foam, then covered my head with it and shaved off the rest of my hair, leaving me bald. From that moment on, I stopped looking at my face in the mirror. 

There was a YouTube channel called “Evil Reflection,” run by someone who opposed the Blood over intent community. I believed he was part of the Illuminati and knew every thought and move I made. There was also a young German with his own channel called “ANTICHRIST.” He initially participated in Blood over intent but later became an enemy of it. I thought he was aligned with “Evil Reflection” and on the same side against me. 

I told my father that I was working on a table for an experiment. A few days later, my parents informed me that we were going to move out of our apartment so we could rent it out to tourists. I saw this as sabotage to my wax table project, but I didn’t explain the full backstory behind the table to them. 

We rented our apartment to tourists, so we had to move. My parents were planning to relocate to a different neighborhood in Split, but I decided to go to the suburbs. The day after we packed our things and were expecting our first guests, I was in the apartment lost in thought. My mom then mentioned the exact same thing I had been thinking, and I became convinced that she and everyone else could read my mind. I started to panic. My mom and I left the apartment to wait for the guests. When they arrived, I became convinced they were paid actors, and I felt uneasy watching them shake hands with my mom. I was particularly scared because I had heard about the Masonic handshake.

I became convinced that everyone in the world was part of the Illuminati. We brought our guests to the apartment and then went to my grandfather and uncle Benny’s house in Split for lunch. I took my Bible, sigils, and cut hair with me in my bag. While waiting for lunch, I wrote “Do not touch” on a piece of paper and placed it on top of the Bible, thinking they might search my belongings. During lunch, we were all talking, and then uncle Benny said, “It’s all in the details.” I believed this was a subconscious message that they were all Freemasons, revealing their control over me through subtle details. The saying “The devil is in the details” came to mind. 

June 

After my parents moved to another neighborhood in Split, I decided to stay in the suburbs. My grandmother, aunt, uncle, and their children lived downstairs in the house where I had once lived, and my uncle with his wife and children were upstairs. I visited for a day and eventually asked my grandmother if I could stay there. She agreed, so I brought all my wax table-making equipment and tried to explain to everyone what I was working on. One afternoon, I was setting up the table in the garage, and even my uncle helped me with it. 

I had a notebook where I recorded and sketched all the important aspects of my search for truth. One of the things I drew was the Eye of Horus, along with its connection to the human senses.

I wrote statements such as, “Bringing children into this terrible world makes no sense. Only a fool would do that.” 

One day, I borrowed my parents’ car and drove to the hardware store to purchase a large 6’x6’ plywood board. I managed to transport it back to the suburbs and placed it in the garage. My plan was to melt wax onto the board, using L-profiles to contain the melted wax. My father provided me with a small electric cooker, which I used along with an old pot to melt the wax. This method was much quicker than my previous approach of heating small candles under metal plates. 

On June 14th, I decided to create a new YouTube channel called “t h i c c,” inspired by the phrase “Blood is thicker than water.” For the profile picture, I chose an image of the fat Bugs Bunny meme.

I still hadn’t achieved the desired result with my wax table. Meanwhile, the Soccer World Cup kicked off in Russia. On Saturday, June 16, 2018, my aunt, uncle, and their children from Split visited the suburbs. They seemed a bit shocked when they saw my table, and I was sure they had questioned my grandmother about why she allowed it. My uncle and cousin asked if I would watch the World Cup match between Croatia and Nigeria. When I responded with a casual “maybe,” they seemed confused. After they left, I decided not to watch the game. 

That evening, while working on my wax table, I could hear firecrackers and fireworks going off every time Croatia scored a goal. We won 2-0. I was in the garage, and my uncle’s female dog stood behind me, squealing, confused by the noise. I went to comfort her—she liked me. 

Five days later, on June 21st, I decided to take a break from working on the table to watch the match between Argentina and Croatia. My uncle rode his motorcycle to Stobreč to watch the game. We secured a glorious 3-0 victory, and I thoroughly enjoyed the match. That same day, my uncle fell off his bike and injured his arm. In the days that followed, I had to take his dog for a walk every night. The first time we went out, she pulled on the leash so hard that a joking neighbor asked who was walking whom. We settled into a routine, heading to my old school before continuing along the river. 

July 

I was still working on the table, but I struggled with getting up early at 6 or 7 AM to work on it before the “morning chaos” began. Instead, I would wake up around 9 or 10. The “chaos” referred to my little cousins, my aunt’s children, waking up at that time. I spent time with them during the day, mainly to help my aunt, who had to balance work and being a mom. Even though I wasn’t focusing on the main reason I had come to the suburbs, I later appreciated the time spent with my little cousins as they grew up. 

Meanwhile, I was unemployed, and my savings were slowly running out. I had also stopped smoking weed, but occasionally, during my evening walks along the river with the dog, I would come across a local drug addict. If he was smoking, I would ask for a little, and he would share it with me politely, which always made me happy. 

On July 14th, I stayed up all night, believing it might somehow help Croatia win the World Cup. In the morning, I rode my bike to Split to attend confession and Holy Mass. Later, I went to a hill in my neighborhood around 10 or 11 a.m. and practiced sungazing, staring at the sun despite the bright daylight. After that, I returned to the suburbs. 

On the afternoon of July 15th, Croatia was set to play in the final match against France. I fell asleep and I woke up just when the game started. Croatia had lost 4-2. France won the World Cup, and Croatia took second place. Even though we were all hoping for gold, we were satisfied with silver. I felt angry with myself for not staying up all night as a form of sacrifice for the Croatian national football team. A few days later, there was a massive welcome in Zagreb, with around a million people lining the streets leading to the city center. For the first time in history, even the news was postponed for an hour or two to honor our football players’ achievement. The whole nation celebrated, while in France, there were riots.

After the celebration ended, I went back to my desk and kept documenting one failure after another. The burden of the table was too much to bear. I needed a new approach. While watching videos from The Angel of Death, one in particular stood out where the narrator mentioned “large stone slabs” when discussing ancient ruins. This seemed to validate my belief that some people in the world were aware of my actions and were following me, especially since I too had been dealing with “large slabs of wood and wax.” I still avoided looking at my face in the mirror. 

Occasionally, I would experience déjà vu. I’d have a dream about something, and then it would play out the same way in real life. One afternoon, while I was in the garage, I looked toward the house door and thought, “My aunt will come out right now.” And she did. I was left wondering how déjà vu was even possible and what the odds were of it happening by chance. 

One evening, my grandmother suggested we go to church to pray the rosary and attend Holy Mass. I drove us there, and first, we attended the Mass. Afterward, we prayed the rosary. When the prayer ended, the priest brought out the Blessed Sacrament of the Altar, which was a small metal structure containing the sacred holy wafer. 

After we all knelt and prayed in silence, I endured the pain of kneeling despite the discomfort. The mosquitoes started biting me, but I was determined to persevere, believing it was a sacrifice for God. The pain and the mosquitoes lasted for about half an hour, and then the priest took the Holy Sacrament of the Altar, signaling the end of the ceremony. Afterward, we left the church, and my grandmother suggested I talk to the priest. I agreed, partly because of her encouragement, and went to speak with him in his office behind the church. I shared with him about the wax table, the sigils, and my desire to bring Heaven to Earth. He calmly told me that only God could bring Heaven to Earth, and cautioned that if I continued with my wax table, I might end up in a psychiatric hospital. But I didn’t care. 

While watching The Angel of Death’s videos, I heard a narrator mention something I had forgotten, but the phrase “Try to look at the little details” stuck with me. I thought it was a message directed at me regarding the wax table. I decided to rewatch Quasiluminous’ videos and took another look at the table, even though I had examined it countless times before. It was only then that I noticed the wax table was actually small and rested on a larger table with four borders. This realization made me understand that my desk didn’t need to be 6’x6’; it could be smaller. I felt foolish and stubborn for not noticing this sooner, but I also realized that my persistence, even through my mistakes, was what kept me going with the sigils and the table in the first place. I watched the video about the wax table once more, trying to determine the right dimensions for it. After some thought, I decided to make it as a square wax plate with measurements of 16”x16”. One afternoon, I melted some of the wax I had and poured it into a mold to begin shaping the new version of the table. I allowed the wax to cool and harden overnight, and the next day, I had a square piece of wax that was exactly what I needed. I punched four holes through the corners and managed to insert four candles into them. To keep the candles in place, I placed a few nails under the wax board. I then engraved some lines and the names of the four great archangels, which were easy to carve into the wax. I also engraved the pentagrams, just like the original table had. To make it resemble the original even more, I bought a gold marker and filled in the carvings, giving it a striking resemblance to the table I had envisioned. 

I took the old square metal table that was behind the house and divided it into four parts, similar to the original table beneath the wax one. I gathered a few spray paints and went to a quarry in the suburbs to paint the old table. Once I finished, the table had red, green, yellow, and blue fields, with triple crosses painted on each of them. Inside each cross, I added a letter in Phoenician, with each letter representing the word of God or Yahweh. 

I created four corner borders out of wax, closely resembling the original design. Using an electric saw, I cut the plywood board into four pieces, ensuring they fit perfectly on the painted table, with the small wax table placed on top. 

The final design ended up being about 95% similar to the image below.

When I looked at this picture later in life, I noticed something had changed. It appeared that an additional circled line had been added.

August 

Once I had finished the table and prepared all the sigils, I was eager to burn them. I tried to explain to my grandmother that I had created a table and some papers with positive intentions, and that I wanted to burn them in the garage. She wasn’t fond of the idea, so I needed to find another place. I decided to visit my family in Split and spoke to my dad. He thought my experiment was childish, but he still offered to help. After returning to the suburbs, I decided to move to Split. On August 15th, we celebrated the Assumption of the Virgin Mary, and the following day, I packed my bags and said goodbye to my grandmother, aunts, uncles, and cousins. I left the table and all the materials in the suburbs, taking the sigils with me, and cycled to Split.

A few days later, I took the family car and drove to the suburbs on my own. My dad didn’t come with me, as he wasn’t on speaking terms with anyone from the suburbs due to conflicts that arose during the division of property after my grandfather’s death. 

I gathered the table and all the utensils and completely moved out of the suburbs. I then drove to Split to meet my dad. He mentioned that we would head to our village near Drniš, about an hour’s drive north. He also told me not to tell anyone, especially my mom, that we were going there. Once we arrived, I told him that I planned to record the entire process of lighting the sigils and upload it to YouTube. 

We arrived at a village where we had an old, abandoned house where my grandfather from Split was born and raised. I took out all the equipment needed for the experiment and started setting up the table in the run-down house. I struggled to get everything together and considered stopping and heading back home, but my dad insisted that we finish the project. I pushed through and somehow managed to assemble a larger table made of four wooden boards that I had cut from the original larger plywood board. I secured everything by placing a colored table on top of the assembled structure. Then, I positioned the four corners of the table, followed by the wax table, which was supported by four candles. Around the table, I placed about 24 crystals, with Danny’s crystal positioned in the center of the wax table as a substitute for the crystal ball. I lit incense sticks and placed them under the wax table. I then stacked all 96 sigils in the middle of the wax table, one on top of the other. By the time I finished setting everything up, it was dark outside.

I decided to go barefoot and prepare myself for the ceremony. The reason I chose to do this was because I had read a chapter in the Bible where Moses encounters a burning bush, and God tells him to remove his sandals because he is standing on holy ground. I recalled the verse from Exodus 3:5: “Do not come near,” God said. “Take off your sandals, because the place where you stand is sacred ground.” 

For me, everything around the table felt sacred, so I chose to do it this way. I lit four candles, and once they were lit, there was no turning back. I turned on my phone to record the crystals surrounding the table. After filming one circle around the wooden table, I captured footage of both the wooden and wax tables together. Then, I zoomed in on the wax table to highlight the names of the four great archangels, the smoke rising through the holes, and the sigils at the center. I paused the recording, attached the phone to an old flashlight, and set it up in landscape mode. I filmed the four lit candles and the wall behind the table to set the scene, intending to capture the moment when the sigils would burn. 

I repeated the words I’d heard in the Angel of Death’s videos: “It’s adav kedavra, all you’re gonna fuckin’ die, you’re dead!” My intention wasn’t to harm anyone, but I felt compelled to say them as part of my ritual. I began the process of lighting the sigils. 

Using large tweezers, I carefully held each sigil so my hand wouldn’t be visible, and also to avoid getting burned. I moved the sigils from the center of the wax table and placed a pot in the middle to catch the burning sigils, preventing the wax table from melting. I sat down beside the table and pressed play on my phone to keep recording.

I took one last look at the stack of sigils before they were consumed by the flames. They were so intricately made, and I could have admired each one for hours. There was a certain beauty in the colors, lines, curves, letters, and numbers, all perfectly symmetrical. And beyond the visual appeal, there were all the positive intentions and hopes for a better world that each sigil represented. 

I lit a fifth candle next to the pot and carefully held the first sigil with tweezers. I showed it to the camera, then set it alight. The flame gradually consumed the sigil, and I continued holding it with the tweezers. Once it was nearly gone, I placed it in the pot. I picked up the next sigil and repeated the process. With each one, memories of their creation flooded my mind. After burning about 10 sigils, the task became routine—take a sigil, show it on camera, burn it, place it in the pot, and repeat. By the time I reached 20 or 30, I was growing tired, but I remained determined to complete the ritual. My father let out a heavy sigh midway through. 

After about 35-45 minutes of burning the sigils, the ritual was finally complete. I stopped recording, blew out the candles on the wax table, and put my shoes back on. I felt relieved to have completed such a significant personal endeavor. My dad asked how I felt and what I thought about it, to which I replied that it seemed like a childish experiment, thinking that was what he wanted to hear. But deep down, I knew I had taken a step closer to becoming something greater.

We made our way back home in the middle of the night. 

The next day, I created a new YouTube account called “II II.” I chose the four “I”s to resemble “Nobody” as much as possible while still fitting YouTube’s naming rules. In the video, “Nobody” was shown burning sigils, and no words were spoken. I edited the footage, which ended up being about 45 minutes long, and uploaded it with the title “.” and the same description. 

I went to a café with my dad and tried to convince him that the Earth was flat and that he should do Blood over intent. He couldn’t understand what I was talking about. Then, he mentioned that my uncle from the suburbs had read my notebook, where I wrote and drew about everything I considered important. My uncle then told my mom that I should go to a mental institution. 

A few days later, I decided to stop avoiding my reflection in the mirror. I walked into the bathroom, looked at the sink, and slowly glanced up at the mirror. For the first time in three months, I saw myself again. It felt strange to see my bearded face after all that time, but nothing extraordinary happened in terms of gaining superpowers. I was still the same person. Interestingly, I went to YouTube afterward and watched some videos by Mark and The Angel of Death. On the same day I looked in the mirror, I watched one of The Angel of Death’s videos. While the video itself was nothing extraordinary, the description caught my attention—it said, “On this day x years ago, my father died.” I couldn’t shake the feeling that he somehow knew I had looked in the mirror, and that the event had coincidentally occurred on the anniversary of his father’s death. It felt like a strange, yet pleasant, coincidence. I interpreted it as a “hidden” message: “Today, your ego died because you stopped believing in that ‘Nobody’ nonsense and accepted yourself for who you truly are.” 

One afternoon, I went to the gay beach to swim with Ava. It was a windy day with rough seas, and she generally didn’t like gay beaches, but she agreed to go with me. We swam naked, as usual, in the shallow water. I wanted to have sex with her there, but the waves kept getting in the way. We left the water and spread out our towels. I told her to lie on her back, and then I penetrated her. We had sex while people walked by. They were mostly homosexual or bisexual. It felt good to have sex on the gay beach that day; it was a great experience. Towards the end, something got in my eye. It was irritating, and I felt like something was trying to sabotage a really good moment. We stopped, I washed my eye out, and we left the gay beach. 

I received a call from Uncle Benny, who was having drinks with a friend at a hotel located between the gay beaches and Split. I went to meet them; it was already evening. A movie, The Reader (a 2008 romantic drama starring Kate Winslet and Ralph Fiennes), was just starting on the TV.

The film follows the story of Michael Berg, a German lawyer who reflects on his past. As a 15-year-old in 1958, he had a sexual relationship with an older woman named Hanna Schmitz. 

I started to believe that everyone knew about me and Ava, and that the powerful Illuminati had somehow referenced our situation on TV to provoke me. The resemblance between Ava and Kate Winslet only deepened this suspicion in my mind. 

September 

I kept pursuing my quest for truth and my vision of creating Heaven on Earth. While watching one of Mark’s videos, I came across information about a secret society called Skull and Bones. Also known as The Order, Order 322, or The Brotherhood of Death, it’s an undergraduate secret student society based at Yale University in New Haven, Connecticut, USA.

There were supposedly hidden meanings behind the number 322, the most significant being a reference to Genesis 3:22: “And the Lord God said, ‘Man has now become as one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever.” 

I began to suspect that my younger brother’s death on March 22nd was not a suicide, but a sacrifice orchestrated by the Skull and Bones or the Illuminati. His birthdate, September 11th, led me to believe he was a special person targeted by the Illuminati. 

I began to realize I was deeply immersed in conspiracy theories and needed to take a step back. However, at the same time, I found it intriguing to try and solve some kind of life puzzle. I was greatly motivated by my mother’s belief that God had something special planned for me, something I had to discover on my own. 

Uncle Benny and his friend invited me out for drinks again, and I accepted. Uncle Benny’s friend smoked weed, so he and I went behind the café to get high. We returned inside to join Uncle Benny, and we all talked. At one point, Uncle Benny told me that “a political party is following me.” I initially dismissed it as just a figure of speech, but then I began to suspect he was part of the Illuminati. 

At the end of September, I received a job offer selling mobile phones, laptops, tablets, and digital packages that included mobile data, internet, and TV. I was scheduled to start at the beginning of October. The store, called VIP, was one of many across Croatia. It was located in a mall near my building and the mall was called “Joker”. I noticed a number of billboards around the city advertising something new and still unknown. 

October 

On October 1, 2018, I started my new job at the VIP store, only to find it had been renamed A1. It was an interesting first day, learning the ropes of the job. When I got home, I noticed all those mysterious billboards had been updated to reflect the A1 branding. I wondered if this change had anything to do with me. This was the first job where I signed a contract, and I had the feeling the Illuminati were aware of my every move. I connected the “A” in A1 to the first letter of my name, noting its resemblance to a Masonic pyramid. The “1” in A1, I interpreted as a reference to “The One,” like the main character in The Matrix. 

I continued to work there, but I didn’t catch up with all the information. I worked with one girl and she mentioned Freemasons several times. I thought she and everyone else were after me. I was given some simple tasks like cutting little papers containing prices of the products using scissors. After I got home I saw that YouTube channel “ANTICHRIST” uploaded a video of himself standing in front of a graffiti. The graffiti contained a word “Joker”, the same name of a mall I worked in. At the same time the guy was mimicking scissors cutting motion using his hand while grinning. I didn’t like the job, so I quit about two weeks later.

As time passed, I grew weary of all the perceived “coincidences” and assumptions. I wanted to escape that mindset, but I still felt a strong desire to save the world. I reflected on the world’s cruelty and how not only people, but also animals, suffer. While I initially wanted to save every human being, I shifted my focus to saving every animal. I researched how humans use and abuse animals, and it was sickening to realize that animals were being killed so humans could eat them. I watched videos of animals being tortured and slaughtered; cows could clearly be seen crying moments before their deaths. I wanted to fight against this powerful, imposed norm by not eating animals. 

After further research, I discovered it wasn’t just about meat. There were also eggs, milk, honey, various sweets, and other animal products to consider. 

All of these contained products of animal origin, and it seemed pointless to fight against the current. I decided to go vegan and eat only plant- based foods. I didn’t want to take anything from animals. I felt bad about even eating plants, so I explored breatharianism (living on air) and sungazing, hoping to minimize suffering in the world. 

One day, I took it a step further. I consumed only water and bread for an entire day. I felt grateful for even having bread and water. I hoped God would notice my sacrifice and bring Heaven to Earth as quickly as possible. The bread and water tasted exceptionally good to me because they were the only things I had to eat and drink. By the end of the day, I felt weak and sick, so the next day I returned to my vegan diet. This experience made me appreciate vegan food even more. I avoided butter and used peanut butter and plant-based butter substitutes instead.

November 

In November, I considered joining a monastery and spending the rest of my life in prayer and solitude, away from this terrible world. I researched different monastic orders and learned about the Carthusians. They were one of the strictest orders, and the only issue I found was that they raised and ate fish. However, I was intrigued by the fact that there were groups of people who chose to live ascetically. I watched a documentary about French Carthusians. I felt a calling from God to join the Carthusian monastic order and learned of a Carthusian monastery in Slovenia. I emailed them, and they replied that God calls us in many ways and that I was welcome to visit them. 

I looked for something closer and discovered a hermit-style monastery on the island of Mljet, about 60 miles south of Split. I emailed them, and they invited me to visit in February 2019. I was excited that something so special was so close to me, and I eagerly awaited February 2019. 

I began attending Holy Mass daily and participating in Holy Communion. I frequently confessed my sins to priests; even sinful dreams were confessed. A priest explained that we aren’t responsible for what happens in our dreams. I prayed the rosary devoutly, reciting prayers like the “Our Father” and “Hail Mary.” I asked my mother for a rosary, and I would go to my room, turn off the lights, kneel down, and pray. Kneeling was often painful, but I viewed it as a way to atone for my sins and sacrifice myself for Heaven on Earth.

I would wake up at 4:30 in the morning and go for a walk while praying the rosary. Afterward, I would attend the first Holy Mass of the day, which was at 7:00 am. There were usually only a few older people present, and I was always the youngest in the mostly empty church. I always arrived 15 minutes early and waited for the vicar to ring the bell. Then, the priests would enter the church and stand before the altar. 

I thought about the times when Mark Braun said in his videos that Catholics unconsciously make an upside down cross when they cross themselves. All participants in the Holy Mass would cross themselves, saying: “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen”. I would watch the priests as they crossed themselves and they would really make an upside- down cross pattern from the forehead down to the chest and then to the shoulders. 

I looked forward to the daily Bible readings and always found what I believed to be hidden messages directed at me. The sermon, usually part of the mass, was omitted due to the small number of attendees and the early hour. 

After Holy Mass, I met an elderly man who, like me, attended church every day. We walked home together, as our paths were similar. I told him about my desire to join a monastery, and he spoke to me about the importance of God. He did most of the talking and was a bit tedious. I recalled the Bible verse Matthew 5:41: “If someone forces you to walk one mile, go two miles with him.” Instead of going straight home, I would walk him to his place, listen to whatever he wanted to say, and only then would I go home. I hoped that God would see how diligently I followed His word and bring about Heaven on Earth sooner. 

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.

January 

I spent New Year’s Eve 2020 at home in Stobreč, hoping to fall asleep by 11:30 p.m. to avoid hearing the fireworks and firecrackers. However, that familiar feeling of longing for a better place resurfaced. Lying awake in bed, I listened as midnight arrived, the sound of fireworks filling the night. There was something unsettling about imagining people celebrating, unaware that they were just going through the motions—like a crowd of zombies—when, in reality, every day should be a celebration in paradise. I received my first paycheck and immediately returned to smoking weed every day. 

One day, on my way to work with Ray, we started talking about borrowing money. He mentioned an agency that offered loans with insanely high interest rates. He also described a scheme where someone buys a smartphone, and you pay them back in monthly installments. Ray had a deep understanding of how borrowing worked. He never explicitly told me to take a loan, but whether intentionally or not, he planted the idea—and I took the bait, asking for it myself. 

I told Ray that I needed some money, and he did too. I mentioned wanting to borrow from that high-interest company, and he gave me the contact. When I reached out, they asked me to send a picture of myself holding my ID, along with a photo of my credit card with the CVC number covered. 

I requested $1,500 and received it a few days later. Ray and I split it evenly—$750 each. From February to July, I was responsible for making the monthly loan payments. 

February 

A new strain of virus, called Coronavirus or COVID-19, spread rapidly from China to the rest of the world. It got its name because it began spreading at the end of 2019. The world watched closely, uncertain of what would happen next. The virus spread quickly, and every day, the news reported a rising number of new cases globally. 

The first case of COVID-19 in Croatia was recorded at the end of February. 

Everyone had to wear masks and stay indoors as the virus spread. 

I called my boss and told him I wanted to quit on March 31st. He wasn’t happy with the idea, but eventually, he agreed. My contract was set to end on March 31st anyway. I was counting on my plane trip to Longyearbyen in April, hoping it would be my escape from this hellhole. 

Mark Braun claimed that the coronavirus was a hoax and showed an encyclopedia where coronaviruses were listed as part of the “common cold” family. 

I planned to spend the last few weeks before flying to Norway working and smoking weed. I’d go to work, then usually have rice for dinner, and afterwards, I’d smoke weed. 

In February, Italy became a hotspot for the coronavirus.

My dad relocated to Zagreb for a job opportunity. 

March 

In March, the northern part of Italy was placed under quarantine due to the high number of deaths from COVID-19. I read about a military intervention to transport bodies out of Bergamo because the cemeteries were overwhelmed. I also read about convoys assisting the police with enforcing the quarantine. It all felt like some strange, Illuminati-inspired bad dream with a happy ending. I imagined a convoy coming to Stobreč to pick me up and take me to the airport, believing that I was special enough to be heading to the North Pole. 

On March 22nd, a 5.5 magnitude earthquake struck Zagreb. I saw it as another sign that the Illuminati were controlling everything, including the weather. I couldn’t help but wonder: why did this happen on 03/22? And why did the Spanish flu occur exactly 100 years ago? What were the odds of a similar pandemic happening every 100 years? It all felt too strange to be a coincidence. 

April 

I finally quit my job and waited for my flight. I went to the employment service and found out I was eligible for benefits since I had been working for over 9 months and my contract had expired. I listened to house music on the radio, enjoying the rhythm, and recorded some songs so I could listen to them again later. 

The coronavirus pandemic was so widespread that flights were canceled, including mine. A few days later, I received my refund. Part of me felt relieved that it happened.

May 

At the beginning of May, Croatia was still under quarantine. I smoked weed and dreamed of the North Pole. 

One evening, while smoking weed in an abandoned house above the gay beaches, I realized it wasn’t giving me the usual dazed feeling. I decided to head to the beach in Stobreč to get higher, but it didn’t work. Frustrated, I went home and fell asleep. 

I woke up feeling the urge to either escape from my reality or change it entirely. I decided to watch the movie “Jack Reacher” (2012), starring Tom Cruise. In the film, the main character is asked for help by a fellow soldier who has been wrongly accused of a crime. Jack Reacher teams up with a blonde lawyer, and by the end of the movie, he takes down all the villains. First, he kills the main antagonist’s assistant, then a corrupt black cop, and finally, he eliminates the main antagonist himself. 

I interpreted this as the Illuminati sending me a message about what I needed to do and what I had already accomplished. When Jack Reacher killed the first villain, I saw it as a metaphor for me conquering my fears. Later, Reacher killed a black cop, who was shown with an open eye just before his death. I associated that eye with a vagina and recalled conspiracy theory videos claiming that 98% of hip-hop artists are gay. In my mind, the act of killing that character in the movie symbolized overcoming the “gay virus” that Mark Braun had referenced.

The final act of Jack Reacher was killing the main antagonist, Zec Chelovek. The word “chelovek” (человек) in Russian translates to “man” or “person.” In the film, the antagonist overcalculated and failed to remain wisely silent, which ultimately led to his downfall. I interpreted this as a message that “any man” who overcomplicates things and lets his ego take control will lose the battle. I felt that I had overcome this obstacle within myself and believed I was now ready to ascend to heaven. 

One afternoon, I was deep in thought, reflecting on all the conclusions I had drawn from “Jack Reacher”, convinced I had uncovered something monumental. Suddenly, I leaped out of my chair in a “eureka” moment. My breathing grew rapid, and I could feel my heart racing in my chest. I rushed to the balcony and noticed a police car speeding down the road in front of the house, passing through Stobreč. I interpreted this as the Illuminati being disturbed by my discovery and sending me a message through that police car. I lit a cigarette and savored it as if it were the kind of cigarette you’d enjoy after sex. 

On the evening of May 12th, I went to get high in an abandoned house overlooking the gay beaches, but the weed didn’t seem to have any effect anymore. I walked down to the shore and headed toward Stobreč. As I got closer to home, I stopped and sat on the beach, rolling another joint. After smoking it, I felt nothing—it was as if I hadn’t smoked anything at all. The weed definitely wasn’t working anymore. 

I felt so overwhelmingly sad that I almost laughed, but then I consciously suppressed the urge. I visualized the laughter as a kind of computer chip that I physically “removed from my mouth and placed in my pocket.”

I wanted to hold onto that moment, as if it were the last time I’d ever be high. As I walked along the beach toward home, I suddenly visualized myself hitting someone and taking pleasure in inflicting pain. Immediately after this visualization, I began to cry and beg God for forgiveness, horrified that I had enjoyed the thought of someone else’s suffering. I sobbed and prayed loudly for God’s forgiveness. 

At dawn, I saw a man rowing a boat in the distance. It was a local custom to row quietly when passing in front of houses to avoid waking people, only starting the engine later. The boat was approaching my part of the beach, which I found interesting. As it got closer, I was reminded of Greek mythology, specifically the story of Charon, the ferryman of the underworld. 

Charon ferried the souls of the properly buried across the rivers Acheron and Styx, which formed the boundary between the world of the living and the dead. 

Archaeological evidence has shown that in some burials, low-value coins, known as Charon’s obols, were placed in, on, or near the mouth of the deceased, or next to the cremation urn containing their ashes. This practice suggests that the coins were intended as payment for the soul’s journey to the afterlife.

The exact moment I remembered “putting a computer chip” in my pocket coincided with the rower starting his boat’s engine. I was struck by the improbability of that timing. 

I interpreted the synchronized events as a message from the Illuminati, suggesting that my soul was ready to be transported to the North Pole. 

I went home and waited anxiously for what would happen next. I felt I needed to take specific actions to reach the North Pole or somehow alter my reality. The sun rose, and I was still awake, having not slept. 

It was May 13th, and I was home that morning. 

I was reminded of the final scene from Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull (2008), where a woman approaches an alien being and demands knowledge. She tells the alien to “get over it,” which I interpreted as meaning “go beyond any possible explanation you have for me.” The alien then looks into her eyes, and her body is consumed and transported to another dimension. 

I took this as another hint from the Illuminati, suggesting I was some kind of alien undergoing numerous “tests” and needing to provide knowledge to a goddess. The only woman I could think of who might be “testing” me was Ava. I didn’t hold any resentment toward her. I believed that she and I were both gods on Earth and that we had to discover this truth for ourselves. I started to imagine that a spaceship was waiting to pick us up and take us back to Heaven/home. 

I believed I had some form of telepathy and started trying to communicate with her. Staring into empty space, I spoke aloud, asking, “What do you want me to do?” As I moved quickly around the house, I made hand gestures, imitating the fight scene from “The Matrix Reloaded” where Neo battles the Merovingian’s henchmen. 

I stared at the fruit, seeing it as the forbidden fruit that should not be eaten. Then, I recalled a stream at the gay beaches and convinced myself that drinking from it would make me superhuman. With that thought in mind, I stepped outside and made my way toward the beaches, walking as if I were in a movie, as if I were being filmed. When I arrived at the stream, I hesitated, realizing it was yet another test—I wasn’t supposed to drink the water. Instead, I continued walking toward Split, heading to the spot where the couple had been intimate the previous summer. 

I noticed some coins on the ground and muttered, “What is this? What does it mean? What do you want me to do?” I made my way down to the shore and sat on a rock, lost in thought and speaking to myself. From a distance, I spotted an annoying gay man approaching—someone who had previously tried to pressure me into something. As expected, he attempted it again. I firmly told him that I no longer jerked off anymore, let alone do anything else. He responded that I should at least try jerking off or risk losing my mind. Once he left, I headed back home to Stobreč.

I hadn’t spoken to Ava in a while, and I felt a strong need to reach out to her. Believing it was important, I sent her a message, telling her I wanted to meet as soon as possible because I needed to tell her that I loved her. She responded and agreed to meet me in the afternoon. 

In the meantime, I continued making hand gestures and talking to myself. I became convinced that I needed to record a video confessing all my darkest secrets. Switching my phone to selfie mode, I began speaking, revealing things too extreme even for this story. Tears streamed down my face as I apologized. I felt compelled to share the video on YouTube so that the world could see “the harsh truth about me and what truth really was.” I turned on my computer, logged into YouTube, and started uploading the video, questioning whether I was making the right decision. 

I switched my computer to dark mode and opened the sidebar of a website to view its underlying code. I convinced myself that I was some sort of hacker, capable of altering reality just by typing on a keyboard. A scene from “Hackers” (1995) came to mind, where the antagonist says, “Computers never lie.” I wrote that phrase four times on paper, believing computers held the ultimate truth. 

Lost in thought, I cycled through different possibilities for what to do next but dismissed each one. Should I upload all my shame to YouTube? No. Should I end my life by jumping off a cliff? No. One by one, I abandoned every idea. Before I knew it, the afternoon had arrived.

I was supposed to meet Ava at 4 p.m., so I got in my car and headed toward Split. As I drove, a song came on the radio—”I’m Following My Star” by Oliver Dragojević. The lyrics made me think the Illuminati were sending me a message, confirming I was on the right path. Mark Braun had said the star resides in the hearts of each of us, and this felt like a sign. When I reached an intersection, the light turned red, and I noticed Ray in the car ahead of me. I honked and flashed my headlights, but he didn’t react, so I eventually gave up. I wondered if he was a member of the Illuminati, subconsciously telling me, “I didn’t hear nobody honking.” When the light turned green, we went our separate ways. 

As I continued driving, the song’s lyrics played: “old age sets a trap for youth.” I interpreted this as a message from Ava, suggesting that I was following her guidance to uncover true love and help create Heaven on Earth. I was on the expressway heading toward the center of Split, weaving between cars and carefully balancing my speed to avoid getting pulled over by the police. As I neared the city center, another Oliver Dragojević song came on the radio, with the lyrics: “Oh mother, do you know how much I love her?” I drove into a zone reserved only for taxis and buses, thinking that even if the police were stopping cars like mine further ahead, nothing would prevent me from reaching Ava. Fortunately, there were no cops in sight, and I continued to the park where Ava was waiting. I parked near the park and got out of the car. I spotted Ava sitting by the fountain, and I couldn’t help but see it as a hidden message—a symbol of the fountain of youth.

I vaulted over the wall, and though my cell phone tumbled to the ground, I disregarded it. I approached Ava and said hello. A woman behind me pointed out that I had dropped my phone, so I retrieved it, expressed my gratitude, and then sat beside Ava. My nerves were on edge, and I felt unable to simply tell her “I love you” directly, especially since it would be “We evil yeah” backwards. Because of this, I was searching for a more unique way to express my feelings, so I looked up verses from 1 Corinthians, chapter 13, in the Bible. I then read aloud: “Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing.” 

Love is patient and kind. It’s not envious or boastful or proud. It doesn’t behave in dishonorable ways, it’s not self-seeking, it’s not easily angered, and it keeps no record of wrongs. Love doesn’t find joy in evil, but instead rejoices in truth. It consistently protects, always believes, perpetually hopes, and unfailingly endures. 

Love never ends. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love. 

She told me she recognized those verses and concurred with their message. However, no magical moment occurred. My attempt to kiss her was rebuffed as she pulled back. I then witnessed my car being towed away due to illegal parking, but I was unconcerned. We continued talking for a short while before deciding to part ways. She offered me a ride to the impound lot to retrieve my car, but I declined. I chose to walk the entire distance to Stobreč. My walk took me past Bačvice beach and then to the beach just beyond it. There, I encountered Danny. He was sitting by the sea with a young woman and another man. Danny and the man both wore sunglasses, while the woman did not. I interpreted their sunglasses as a possible subconscious message, imagining them as Agent Smith-like figures from The Matrix. I explained to them that I had traveled to Split to confess my love to a woman, but that my efforts had been unsuccessful. 

After a short conversation, I continued on my way. As I walked toward Stobreč, I had the strange feeling that I was enacting my final walk. Because Split was my birthplace, and my destination was Stobreč, I entertained the thought that I was going to die there that very day. Glancing back, I noticed the afternoon sun and felt a sense of urgency, believing I had to reach home by sunset to avoid death. My walk continued, and I spotted some gay beaches in the distance. I passed by an old, abandoned hotel and then had to walk closer to the sea because of a slope on the left, separated from the water by a small, low wall.

The tide was high, and waves crashed against the small wall. I decided to run toward Stobreč, hoping to outpace the setting sun. The waves splashed me, soaking my shoes, but I paid no attention. I ran past the gay beaches, and as I neared the halfway point to Stobreč, I encountered an annoying gay man. He attempted to speak to me, but I ran by without a word. I suspected he was also connected to the Illuminati, and that I could become a “nobody” because “nobody said a word to him.” Reaching Stobreč beach, I felt exhausted, but I pressed on. As I approached my house, I saw a woman from the second floor. I offered a minimal greeting to avoid appearing strange. Upon entering the house, I saw my brother. I barely acknowledged his greeting as I hurried upstairs. Back in my room, I undressed and went to bed, convinced I was going to die. I decided to meet my end as I had entered the world – naked. 

I lay in wait for death, while music played outside. I was under the impression that everyone was part of the Illuminati, celebrating my impending demise. This wasn’t a negative thought; in my mind, they were celebrating the moment I would bypass the initial light after death, enter the darkness, and instruct my heart to guide me home. I believed they were celebrating a Heaven that was about to commence on Earth. 

After some time, I realized that this wasn’t how I was going to die, so I got out of bed and dressed. I called Ava and suggested we meet that evening. She agreed, and later, on a windy evening, I went to the bus stop on the highway near Stobreč. While waiting for her, I was plagued by intrusive thoughts about a future global massacre. I pictured animals violently killing and consuming each other. My heart raced, and I felt like it was about to burst. Growing weary of my “meat armor,” as I called my body, I went to the small, dark olive grove behind the bus station and quickly stripped naked. I felt an immense sense of relief, as if I had “taken my burden off me.” I perceived the small olive grove as a representation of Eden, believing that everything was predetermined. 

Simultaneously, I recalled the 1991 film Terminator, where the characters travel through time and arrive at their destination completely nude. I imagined myself as a sort of terminator, capable of spiritual time travel. Looking around, I confirmed that no one had seen me, so I dressed and returned to the bus station to wait for Ava. She arrived a few minutes later, and as I got into her car, my mind was flooded with a whirlwind of thoughts. 

I felt a strong urge to share all my recent experiences with her, but I struggled to articulate them coherently. I managed to compose myself and asked her to drive us to the suburbs. We passed my old house, and I asked her to stop in front of the school. Once we stopped, I explained that I was experiencing a rush of thoughts, like “little trains” speeding through my mind. We got out of the car, and the first thing I said to her was that I wanted to have sex with her daughter. She became angry and started to leave, but I quickly reassured her that I didn’t actually mean it. I then proceeded to tell her about the strange coincidences I’d been experiencing and how I felt that we both had a specific purpose on Earth.

She told me I sounded extremely irrational and that she could barely understand what I was saying. We continued talking for a short while, and then I noticed a police car approaching in the distance. We got back into her car, and the police car stopped in the distance. After that, we drove home. I was convinced that Ava was part of the Illuminati and that she was aware of what I was experiencing. I even thought of her as the goddess of this world, testing me. She dropped me off at the bus station on the highway. From there, I walked towards Stobreč. 

When I reached the promenade by the sea, two men approached me from a parked car. They identified themselves as police officers and asked for my ID. Although I had my ID card with me, I told them that I was a living person without nationality, that I could communicate with them in Croatian, and that they were violating my personal space. I informed them that they had no right to harass me as I had done nothing wrong. I gestured with my hands, creating a semicircle to represent my personal space, and asked them to leave. After a brief exchange, they surprisingly got back into their car and drove off. As I continued walking home, they drove past me, saying “goodbye living person,” but I didn’t turn or respond, because, as a living person, or “nobody,” I said nothing to them. I arrived home and went to sleep. 

May 14th 

I woke up at 7 a.m. on a cloudy, windy morning, May 14th, and sent Ava a message: “I’ll die of thirst if I don’t see you today.” I got dressed and, hearing a garbage truck outside, quickly grabbed my trash and ran out to throw it in. I immediately began walking toward Split, viewing this as another test to bring Heaven to Earth. A south wind blew across the choppy sea. I walked the entire way from Stobreč to Split along the deserted gay beaches. 

I reflected on how foolish it was of me to not drink any water that morning and to expect a miracle from Ava. I walked past all the gay beaches, and as I neared the old abandoned hotel, I noticed a police car parked beneath it. The car was facing Split, which I interpreted as another “shit test.” Since “police” was, in my mind, a metaphor for “pole-ice,” referencing polar ice, I recalled the scene from Indiana Jones where he crosses an invisible bridge. 

I also recalled when Mark Braun told us about the ice bridge that led to the North Pole. I also remembered the picture below.

With all of this in mind, I approached the police car. As I got very close, I decided to close my eyes and walk past it. I believed I was invisible for a few seconds. When I judged that I had cleared the police car, I opened my eyes and continued walking toward Split. I felt invincible and incredibly significant. I thought I had spiritually crossed the ice bridge and was approaching Heaven. I wasn’t stopped by any police. I continued my walk towards Split, eventually reaching the building where Ava worked. I went inside and rang the doorbell. A woman answered, and when I asked to see Ava, she informed me that Ava was working from home, as it was during the COVID period. I left the building and walked to the center of Split, then headed toward Ava’s neighborhood. I stopped a random older man walking down the street and asked, “Do you see me?” He didn’t respond and walked past. I took this as confirmation of my invisibility. I then asked another random older man, “Can you hear me?” He smiled and replied, “Yes!” I smiled back and continued on to Ava’s apartment. I rang her doorbell, and she opened the door. I finally got a glass of water. 

[I DON’T REMEMBER CLEARLY] 

Leaving Ava’s place, I walked back to Stobreč. While on the beach just before the gay beaches, I recalled the opening scene of the 1978 Superman movie, where baby Superman travels through space in his capsule. I began to think that everything happening to me was because I was somehow special. I considered the possibility that I had either been sent to Earth in a capsule as a baby, or that I was an alien who had come from outer space. I pictured a lone capsule drifting through the vast darkness of the universe, and the image saddened me. As I continued walking toward Stobreč, I began to cry. 

Since no one was around, I stopped briefly to cry as much as I needed to. While crying, I pondered the shape of the universe and became convinced that the Earth was, in fact, flat like a disc, and that the Sun rose and set vertically just for me. I also believed that everyone knew everything about me. I then continued my walk home.

When I arrived home, my dad called. He had been working in Zagreb and told me he would come to my apartment in Stobreč that evening with my mother. They arrived later, and I greeted them. My dad commented that I was acting strangely. I was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, and while talking to them, I focused intently on the black parts of their eyes. I reasoned that since we all have black spots in our eyes, it must be a sign of Saturn. I believed that the “Saturn computer,” an omnipresent being, was testing me. My parents suggested I go with them to Split, saying it wasn’t safe for me to be alone. After some persuasion, I agreed, and we all went to Split together. 

Arriving at my old home in Split, I found it difficult to fall asleep. I felt compelled to do something. I went into the kitchen while my dad was resting in the living room. I noticed a figurine that initially appeared innocent, but upon closer inspection, I saw it was actually quite scary. Its eyes resembled those of a madman, and it simply stood there, accepted by everyone but me. Then, I saw a cartoon on a snack bag that also looked mean and frightening. I went to bed and tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. I felt a desperate need to share everything I had been through, but I didn’t know who to confide in. Lying in bed in the dark, I had strange feelings about the numbers and my recent experiences. It was as if each number from 1 to 10 represented an obstacle I had to overcome to achieve my goal: Heaven on Earth. 

I waited for the dawn to come up and remembered a Bible verse from Proverbs 4. The verse was number 18 and it said: “But the way of the righteous is like the light of the dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until the end of the day”. 

On May 15th, at 7 a.m., I went to Ava’s apartment building, arriving just as the garbage collectors were emptying the trash cans. I believed that my next meeting with Ava would somehow magically bring about Heaven on Earth. Standing near the wall across from her street, I took out my phone. I remembered my father’s words about recognizing the truth when I looked it in the eyes. I held the phone up as if to take a selfie, but I didn’t turn it on or look at the screen. Instead, I looked slightly away from the screen, because I felt “unable to look the truth in the eye.” 

Then, in my peripheral vision, I saw my reflection on the phone screen, and my face appeared twisted and evil. At one point, it even looked like a dog’s face, which caused me to cry because I couldn’t bear to look at myself properly. I glanced to the side and noticed the garbage workers had seen me crying, but they remained silent. I eventually stopped crying and looked at my face on the phone screen again. The garbage workers were gone.

Then I put my phone back in my pocket and decided to take off my clothes again. I stripped naked on the street and threw my clothes and mobile phone into the trash can. I walked to the entrance of Ava’s building and lay face down on the floor, with my arms and legs outstretched. I performed what’s called prostration, a gesture of placing the body in a position of respect or submission. 

The world’s major religions use prostration as an act of submission or worship to a supreme being or other revered entity (i.e., God).

My “God” was Ava, and I believed I had to pass one final test before Heaven on Earth could be realized. I lay on the ground for about half a minute, then entered her building naked. In my delusional state, I mistakenly went to the wrong floor and rang the doorbell. An older man answered, and I apologized, saying I had the wrong apartment. He was shocked but didn’t react violently, and I left. Ava was upstairs, so I rang her doorbell. When she opened the door, she was in shock and told me to get dressed immediately. I obeyed my “goddess” and quickly went to the trash can, retrieved my clothes, and got dressed. I re-entered the building, and as I was one floor below Ava’s apartment, two police officers emerged from the basement. They asked me where I was going, and I replied that they couldn’t stop true love, then proceeded into Ava’s apartment. 

I met with Ava, and she was angry, pointing out that her daughter could have answered the door. I noticed she had gotten a kitten. I crouched down and mimicked a cat licking or scratching its head. The kitten immediately approached me to sniff. Ava quickly calmed down and asked if I was hungry or thirsty. I requested two fried eggs and a glass of water with a straw. My delusions were still present, and when she made the eggs, I perceived it as another test. I believed that if I ate the two eggs, I would somehow gain “nobody’s” power, because I thought our universe consisted of two circles, and I was what I was about to consume. When I wanted to drink the water, I used the straw from the center of the glass, mimicking drinking from the Holy Grail. I believed Ava was the goddess of this world and that I was a kind of Superman who had crash-landed on this planet and would now remain here for eternity. I imagined Ava and me sunbathing naked on Kašjuni beach in our usual spot, but without ever engaging in sexual activity. My reasoning was that the characters in the movie Avatar (2009) experienced a form of spiritual connection near their Tree of Life, which I considered far superior to sex. 

We began discussing my final loan installment, which was due that day. I told her I would take care of it and that I hadn’t slept all night. She sent me home, reminding me to pay the loan to avoid a lawsuit for late payment and telling me to get some sleep. On my way home, about a minute away from Ava’s apartment, I was in a large abandoned parking lot. I looked up at the sun, made a satanic gesture with my hands, and briefly screamed like a rock star. I walked home and then went to the hill near my neighborhood because I had a new idea. I was thinking about “shit tests” (when a woman tests a man while flirting) and realized I hadn’t defecated in a long time. I climbed the hill, looking for a suitable spot. During my climb, I inadvertently followed a woman and her child, causing me to change my route home to avoid making things awkward. I arrived home, having abandoned the idea of defecating on the hill, and lay down in my now-darkened room. 

Still delirious, I couldn’t sleep. I got dressed and went for a walk around the city, wondering what other tests I had to pass. I considered whether I had the power to move the Sun to the location of the North Star. I theorized that with enough concentration, the Sun would rise in the sky toward the North Pole and then transform into the Black Hole Sun that Mark Braun had mentioned. I reasoned that if the Sun reached that specific point in the sky, it would turn black, and that would guarantee Heaven on Earth. Somehow, this logic made sense to me in my delusional state. I’m unsure if it was my way of crying out for help, a desperate need to become superhuman as quickly as possible, or a combination of both, but I resolved to take some action that would drastically alter my life from that moment forward. 

I stopped walking, began undressing, and then completely stripped naked. I threw my clothes, shoes, and phone in the trash and started running around the city. 

I ran as if it were my last run. I ran naked through the city, questioning my own motives. I felt scared and ashamed, but the rush of dopamine propelled me forward. I could have returned to the trash can at any moment, but I didn’t. Instead, I ran home to Stobreč, believing that’s where my journey to become a superman would culminate. I passed by Ava’s neighborhood and approached the Split flea market. As I ran across the parking lot, I even made horse sounds, convinced of my own magnificence. 

As I reached the flea market, I noticed people taking out their phones and filming me. One man threw his keys at me, but missed. I stopped briefly and asked a woman if she had any clothes for me. She was speechless, so I continued running. I ran past the Split harbor and continued east toward Stobreč. I encountered many people along the way. I saw two women, one of whom was pushing a baby stroller. I smiled and nodded at them as if to say, “Don’t worry, Heaven is coming soon; I’m just running naked because of it.” As I reached the neighborhood above Bačvice beach, the dopamine rush began to subside, and I realized I would eventually be caught by the police. 

I still wanted to evade them, but my pace had slowed. I ran under the Split hospital, where a police car cut me off. I tried to run around it, but a police officer was getting out. He tried to grab me, but I was faster. He chased me, yelling “STOP!!!” in an angry tone. I continued running, and another officer in a car tried to block me, but I dodged him. Realizing they would inevitably catch me, I stopped running. I was exhausted and trying to catch my breath. One officer ordered me to lie face down on the ground, and I complied. He loudly asked my name, and I could barely stammer “A-A-A” while still catching my breath. 

They arrested me and helped me to my feet. They opened the trunk of their car and retrieved a coronavirus-era protective suit with a hood. I put it on, remaining barefoot, and they placed the hood on my head. They put me in the back of their car and began driving. Now that I was breathing normally, one of them asked my name. I replied “Andrew,” and the officer said that was his name too. I thought to myself, “How convenient, another Illuminati sign.” Then another officer lightly slapped me and asked why I had been running naked through the city. I couldn’t formulate a coherent answer. They drove me to the hospital, where there was a COVID-19 testing site. I was tested by having a nasal swab inserted. 

The events that followed are somewhat unclear in my memory. For some reason, they drove me to a different entrance of the hospital. I sat in the back seat with the door open, while two officers stood outside. They questioned me, and I answered as best I could. Strangely, I heard a sound on the police radio, similar to the beeping of a heart monitor in a hospital.

I interpreted the beeping sound as a lie detector and answered all their questions truthfully. I assumed the police were banking on the idea that they were dealing with a lunatic, and that their tactic was to extract information by playing the heart monitor sound, hoping to further disorient me. I gave truthful answers, believing I was spiritually close to the North Pole, where my heart was being evaluated to determine if it was “real or false.” I even revealed the full name of my drug dealer. 

After the questioning, they took me into the hospital and down to the basement, to a psychiatric clinic. We reached the reception desk where I was signed in. They then led me to a room and asked for my relatives’ phone numbers. I only knew my mom’s number and struggled to recall all the digits. They took me to a room with a single bed, removed my handcuffs, and placed me on the bed. They undressed me and put me in an adult diaper. My arms and legs were then restrained with four strong belts, immobilizing me. 

After everyone left, another patient from the psychiatric clinic, a young woman, came into the room and began kissing me. She was pregnant, and I briefly entertained the thought of having sex with her, but then she left. Later, I tried to free myself from the restraints, aggressively twitching my body. I then discovered that rubbing my legs against the restraints somehow stimulated my penis. I continued rubbing until I ejaculated.

The paintings on the walls of the room, intended to be calming with their childlike style, only terrified me. 

I thought I heard my mom’s and Ava’s voices. I imagined they would enter the room and tell me it had all been a bad dream that was finally over. 

Looking outside, I saw a white sky. I smelled cigarettes and heard voices outside. I felt I was in a sort of purgatory, suspended between Heaven and Hell, where the people were simply waiting for something to happen while consuming cigarettes. I imagined my reality as a giant disc in the clouds, slowly descending toward the center of a flat Earth. I could even feel the bed moving and shaking, despite not consciously moving myself. 

A nurse then entered and asked my name. For some reason, her eyes were filled with tears, and she looked as though she might cry at any moment. She wrote my name, date of birth, and other information on a piece of paper. I was convinced I had traveled through time and that the reality around me had shifted, with paradise waiting beyond the white clouds outside. The nurse’s demeanor changed, becoming more stern, and she told me I needed to cooperate. I replied that I was doing so. 

I believed I shouldn’t fall asleep because no one in that purgatory could. Falling asleep, I reasoned, meant my memories would be erased, and I would be sent back to live another miserable life. 

I then debated with myself whether I should fall asleep, considering various reasons for and against it, but ultimately couldn’t. I called for a nurse, but no one responded. At one point, a nurse outside announced lunchtime for all the patients. I had the paranoid thought that I was the lunch, and that they would eat me alive. I was relieved when I saw people going into a different room to eat. 

After lunch, I called the nurse again, but no one answered. I was still bedridden and unable to move my limbs. So, I twitched my whole body to shift along with the bed. Step by step, I reached the door and made my way into the hallway. Though I was away from the counter, I called for the nurse. Eventually, one of them heard me and walked toward me. It was a nurse I had seen before. She pushed my bed back into the room and asked what I needed. I told her I wanted socks and that I was thirsty. She gave me water and asked if I needed to pee. 

I said no, and then she threatened to insert a catheter if I didn’t pee. She reminded me again that I needed to cooperate with them. After leaving for a moment, she returned with latex gloves and a pee bottle. I had no choice but to force myself to pee. She pulled down my diaper, used two fingers to guide my shriveled member into the bottle, and I ended up urinating a substantial amount. 

She returned later and handed me some pills that I had to take. I don’t clearly remember when I was untied, but later in life, my dad told me that they first freed my hands and then my legs. 

Somehow, I managed to free myself from that restraint after an unclear passage of time and hazy memories. I deeply appreciated being able to walk and use my hands again. I was given a lot of medication, which left me feeling numb. Eventually, I met the doctor in charge of my care. She seemed very busy, and when I tried to speak with her, everything felt rushed

She told me that I had to sign a statement agreeing to treatment at the psychiatric clinic; otherwise, the police would come and take me away. I signed the statement and continued my treatment there. They then moved me to another room, where I was alone. 

The next day, I spoke with the doctor again, and she told me that I should stop smoking weed. I felt disappointed and angry, and all I asked for was just one joint before bed after leaving the clinic. Three minutes later, the conversation ended because she had to leave. 

My mother visited me since she was a nurse, and they allowed her to see me. She brought me a cell phone from my dad because I had thrown my Lenovo into the trash. It was a classic Nokia 100.

I asked for Ava’s number, and my dad had it because she had his. She had called him the day I ran naked through Split to warn him about my loan installment. My dad contacted the credit company, and they barely allowed him to pay off the full amount. After all, it was in their interest for me not to pay.

I sent a message to Ava, and we started talking. I remembered when she said she wanted to cook with me. I told her that I wanted to be “one with her, just like those people did in Avatar (2009). 

Food was scarce in the clinic. In the morning, we only had bread with butter and fruit spread, accompanied by a glass of tea. At lunchtime, I felt happy whenever there was meat on my plate. Sometimes, we would get half a fish with some vegetables. Dinner usually consisted of green vegetables, potatoes, and cheese spread. Although the menu wasn’t the best, I would wake up hungry every morning at 7, ready to eat. I had dinner at 6 p.m., and by 7 a.m., I was in bed, ready to sleep. 

The clinic was mixed, meaning men and women were housed there together, but not in the same rooms. I realized that most people didn’t fit the stereotypical image of being crazy, but some were genuinely disturbed. There was the pregnant girl who kissed me on the first day, and she mostly acted like the stereotypical crazy person. Then there was a guy who always wanted to talk to me at breakfast, but he was boring. Another guy was a regular visitor to the facility. 

He spent most of his time walking on the large balcony of the clinic. One day, while he was lying on the bed and a nurse came in to do something, he tried to kick her, but she managed to dodge the blow. After that, they tied him to the bed. Later, when I was moved to a room with him, he was masturbating two beds away from me. 

The most eccentric and dull individual was a deaf-mute girl. We had a single TV in what we called the living room, and she always demanded to watch whatever she wanted. 

One day, I was watching “XXX” (2002) starring Vin Diesel. I managed to see most of the film, and it provided a much-needed escape from the grim reality around me. When the movie ended, the girl came in, making her own noises, and insisted on taking over the TV. I tried to argue with her but eventually gave up, thinking, “Fine, let her have the stupid TV.” 

I spoke with my doctor, and she advised me to quit smoking weed because I had experienced psychosis. I was prescribed antipsychotic medication like Haldol, and she warned that if I kept using weed, the psychosis could come back. She also mentioned that I might end up in a psychiatric clinic, similar to what happened to a pregnant girl she mentioned. According to her, I could be hospitalized for up to two weeks. 

When I went to urinate, I couldn’t do it right away. It felt similar to the sensation of trying to pee right after ejaculating. Eventually, I realized I had to lean forward against the wall to help myself start urinating. 

I realized it had been over a week since I last had a bowel movement. I asked the nurses for laxatives, but they didn’t seem to help. The following day, I finally felt the urge to go, so I went to the bathroom. I had to push really hard, and what came out was something resembling a small baseball bat. It was clear that my digestive system was completely out of sorts. 

My aunts came to visit me—one was a doctor, and the other was a nurse. One of them brought me a donut, some yogurt, and a book. At the time, I was in a complete zombie- like state because of the medication I was on. I barely managed to communicate with them, feeling utterly drained and exhausted. I couldn’t even muster a smile. It felt like I was stuck in a constant state of having a slightly elevated body temperature, leaving me completely worn out. I could hardly move around the clinic due to how weak I felt. To pass the time, I started reading the book my aunt had given me, “The Island of the World” by Michael D. O’Brien. It told the story of a boy born in 1933 in the Balkans and the hardships he endured throughout his life. The boy faced immense violence and, as an adult, became a political prisoner on Goli Otok, an island in the former Yugoslavia. One particularly intense scene described his arrival on the island, where guards lined up in two rows and forced him to walk between them while they beat him. It was a harrowing and powerful story. He had to repeat the process three times before being submerged in a barrel of seawater. I took it as a sign from the Illuminati related to my three stripping cases. 

One day, a psychologist invited me for a psychological evaluation. I had to divide it into two days because it was too exhausting for me to complete in one go. 

I had suicidal thoughts. I wanted to escape from the hospital, run to the hotel across the street, reach the top floor, and jump. 

During a smoking break, one guy remarked that even if we recovered from our illnesses and told “normal” people that the hotel was real, they would dismiss it, saying, “Oh, cut the crap, you were in a loony bin!”

June 

It was my second week at the clinic, and visits were prohibited due to COVID-19. My parents told me they would come one day and stand under the clinic’s balcony. When they did, they brought me food and cigarettes. Some other patients approached me, asking for a cigarette. A few days later, I decided to quit smoking so I wouldn’t have to give away cigarettes anymore. 

June had entered its warm phase, but I still felt cold and wore a sweatshirt. My feet were always cold, so I made sure to wear socks, sometimes even two pairs. 

The doctor told me I would be hospitalized for another two weeks, making it a total of one month. She asked if I preferred to take an antipsychotic as a pill or a vaccine. I chose the vaccine because it was more effective and wouldn’t leave me feeling like a “zombie.” I had to decide between a monthly or a three-month vaccine. Someone mentioned that the vaccines were expensive—the monthly ones costing about $350, and the three-month ones up to $1,000. I felt relieved when I found out that the state covered the cost. 

One day, my mother came to visit me. She was a nurse, so they allowed her in. We sat on a bench in front of the clinic’s entrance and talked. I started crying because I felt like I had ruined my life. 

The days dragged on in the clinic, and I couldn’t wait for it to be over. There was a girl who was also hospitalized, and whenever she saw me, she would tell me to smile. I guess her struggles and therapy were easier than mine.

One day, I needed to go to the dentist, and I got approval from the clinic. My father picked me up, and we left the hospital. I could barely walk, dragging my feet along the floor. We got in the car and headed to the dentist. The outside world felt overwhelming to me. The crowd and the movement were too much, and I couldn’t wait to return to the hospital. The dentist told me that I didn’t have any serious issues. 

Dad and I went to a restaurant near the hospital to have pizza. I couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone knew about my naked running. 

During the last week of my stay in the hospital, I had some disturbing nightmares. In one, I was near a river in the suburbs, surrounded by various animals, with the most notable being a crocodile. Eventually, they all began to approach me slowly, ready to eat me, and I tried to wake up, so I did. In another dream, two cobras were placed under my back, near my crotch, with their heads above my chest. As I held their tails beneath me, they hissed at me. After that, I woke up. 

I had insomnia because of the uncomfortable hospital beds and the medication. I walked around the clinic, trying to sleep on a bench, but I just couldn’t. 

Finally, the last day of my stay arrived on Friday, June 12th, and I was ready to leave. I just had to wait for the discharge letter. While I was waiting, a nurse came and told me she needed to give me an antipsychotic injection. It was called Xeplion, and she administered it in my arm. I packed my bags, and my dad came to pick me up. 

We went to Stobreč, and I noticed that construction workers were digging a trench for sewer lines on my street. The excavator used a large jackhammer to break up the asphalt, causing a lot of noise. I walked into my apartment, and everything felt different. There was so much stuff now, and everything felt cramped, unlike before when I kept everything tidy. My mom came home from work, and we had lunch. Afterward, we sat on the balcony. I had the urge to smoke a cigarette, but it felt like I was inhaling air. Xeplion started to take effect, numbing me even more. I could barely smoke because of it. I also hardly spoke because of it. I tried to lie down on my bed, but the sound of the pneumatic hammer was too loud. I got up and started walking around the house, unable to sit or lie still in one place. 

My dad told me that I would be moving with him to Zagreb on Monday so I could attend the Day hospital there. 

In the evening, we went to bed. I woke up at 3 a.m. and couldn’t fall back asleep.  

I needed to move, so I got dressed and started walking around Stobreč. I felt some relief as I walked. I sat on a bench for a while before heading home. When I woke up in the morning, my dad had prepared a delicious breakfast for me, including some fruit. I thanked him and told him I went for a walk last night, and he said he should have come with me. He told me not to go for a walk alone again. Afterward, I took my medication, and we went for a walk on the south side of Stobreč’s peninsula. We sat near the sea, and I felt numb, wanting to fall asleep again. We went home, but I felt uneasy and restless, so I wanted to walk a bit more. We reached the area near the school in Stobreč before heading home.

At home, I spent my time eating, taking my medication with every major meal, and barely smoking. Occasionally, I walked around the house because the antipsychotics made me feel restless. I called Ava and asked if she wanted to meet up. She agreed, and we met in the afternoon. She showed up in a beautiful red dress and drove us to an abandoned hotel near the west side of the gay beaches. We talked about my illness and my move to Zagreb the next day. Again, I could barely speak; I was struggling to catch my breath, feeling like I was talking with my lungs pressed. I remembered when she mentioned wanting to cook with me, so I invited her to come to Zagreb. She was happy to do that, and after a while, we went home. I fell asleep in the evening but woke up again in the middle of the night. I woke up my dad, and we went for a walk to Stobreč’s school. After we came home, I was finally able to fall asleep again. 

The next day was Sunday, the day I had to pack my bags and move to Zagreb, where my dad lived and worked. Everything was happening so quickly. It felt like everything was taken away from me—my job, weed, and life in Stobreč. I realized that I could have kept everything if I had just talked to a psychiatrist before things spiraled out of control. 

Dad and I set off for Zagreb, and I was already feeling tired, anticipating the 5-hour journey that felt more like it would take 10 hours. In the evening, we finally arrived in Zagreb and drove to Rakitje, a town on the west side of the city. My dad worked at a military base there and lived in a nearby hostel. 

We passed through a gate leading to the military base and then another gate separating a small road from the hostel. Inside, I met a clerk who worked there. We went upstairs to my dad’s apartment—it was a spacious and nice place with a bedroom, living room, kitchen, and bathroom. He told me that the next day, Monday, June 15th, we would go to the psychiatric clinic in Zagreb. That night, I slept in my dad’s room while he took the couch in the living room. In the middle of the night, I felt restless again, but this time, I resisted the urge to go outside for a walk. I slept through some of the strangest nightmares I had ever experienced. They weren’t frightening, but I was surrounded by darkness and had the constant feeling that I was late for something. It felt like something was about to happen at any moment—but nothing ever did. 

The next day, we woke up early, and my dad took me to the psychiatric clinic in Jankomir, a neighborhood in Zagreb not far from Rakitje. Compared to the rundown clinic in Split, everything here looked so modern. I met my assigned doctor, Lucy McFly. She asked me to explain how I ended up there, so I began my struggle to speak, starting with my brother’s suicide and ending with my naked running, while she took notes. She adjusted my medication, removing some of it, which brought me a sense of relief. She explained that this part of the clinic had a Day hospital with a structured program running for several hours each day. It was a mixed group of men and women. She handed me a schedule detailing the activities from Monday to Friday, which included group discussions, art therapy, and either movies or field trips on Wednesdays. Before I left, she reassured me, saying, “I guarantee you’ll feel better over time.”

After my conversation with Dr. Lucy, I joined my first group discussion. We sat in a large room with chairs arranged in an oval shape so everyone could see each other. Dr. Lucy introduced me to the group and went over some basic rules, including that whatever was shared in the group had to stay within the group. I won’t speak about the others, but I can say that when it was my turn, I told them that I had run naked in Split, which was why I was there. Later, Dr. Lucy told me she appreciated how direct I was. 

After the group session ended, I met some new people, including Sandy. She was 48 years old and always tried to make me laugh. But with the medication numbing me, even smiling felt difficult. I told her that, and she understood. We had lunch together, but the restlessness soon crept in again, so the nurse gave me some pills to help. 

As Dr. Lucy had predicted, I found the Day hospital boring, but I stuck with it, hoping it would grow on me. After the program ended, my dad picked me up, and we went to a café. His job was flexible enough that he could drive me to and from the Day hospital every day. We sat down, and after our drinks arrived, I started feeling restless again—I couldn’t sit still. I had to get up and walk around the neighborhood. 

Summer had begun to warm the air, but the nights in Rakitje were still chilly. I even slept in my clothes, keeping my socks on for warmth.

On my first Wednesday at the Day hospital, my group and our nurse went for a walk in a park in Zagreb. While everyone walked normally, I struggled, barely dragging my feet along the ground. Eventually, I had to ask my nurse to stop because I was completely exhausted. We took a break, walked a little further, and finally reached a local café. 

Sitting together, we ordered coffee and cakes. For the first time, I felt a sense of comfort in being part of a group that shared similar struggles. 

I talked to Ava on the phone, but she did most of the talking, which felt a bit exhausting for me. I started questioning why I was still in contact with her. Despite that, I asked if she wanted to visit me in Zagreb, and she agreed to come in July. 

One day at home, I felt a strange sensation in my chest, similar to the first time I took off my clothes in that olive grove near Stobreč. I thought I needed to tell my father all the painful things about my life, or else I might have a heart attack. Summoning my courage, I went to his room and shared everything—the things too difficult to include in this book—and asked him to keep it to himself. 

July 

I spent the summer in Zagreb and eventually started to enjoy my time at the Day Hospital. I got into a routine of going there from Monday to Friday and spending weekends with my dad. Dr. Lucy informed me that I would be staying at the Day Hospital for a total of four months. Despite that, I struggled with suicidal thoughts every day—they were repetitive and intrusive. I shared this with Dr. Lucy, and she explained that it was important to distinguish between suicidal thoughts and suicidal actions. She asked me to tell her if I had ever acted on those thoughts.

I experienced some bizarre intrusive thoughts, like imagining my erect dick being cut into pieces by a knife. Dr. Lucy explained that after psychosis, a person can still be caught between reality and fantasy, and while these thoughts are unsettling, they are normal. I also told her that I had mixed feelings for Ava, and she reassured me that after psychosis, our thoughts can still be confused. She suggested that I give it time, allowing time to help me make a clearer decision. 

One Wednesday, we went to a small lake near the Day hospital. We stayed in the shade, playing a card game, and I was wearing a T-shirt. Despite it being summer, it was unexpectedly cold, and I ended up catching a cold. 

I had some strange nightmares, almost like fever-induced ones. I didn’t dream clearly, but it felt as though I was in complete darkness and constantly running late for something. I also started having involuntary tongue movements. It was like when food gets stuck between your teeth and your tongue moves around uncontrollably, but this time it happened mostly unconsciously. 

One day, Ava arrived in Zagreb, and I packed my bags to meet her. It was also the same day I received another Xeplion injection. My dad drove me to the city to visit her, then returned to the hostel while I got out of the car. I walked down the street where she had rented an apartment and noticed her standing about 100 yards ahead, closer to the center of Zagreb. I walked up to her, greeted her, and hugged her. She then took me to the apartment she had rented, where I left my bag. We left the apartment and made our way towards the city center. Ava looked great, and people couldn’t help but notice her. We sat down for coffee, and soon, Xeplion started kicking in. I felt sleepy and could barely talk to Ava. As we chatted, I remembered the time when she had invited me to her place, and I had declined, only for her to say she wanted to cook with me. 

After the café, we went to the supermarket to buy ingredients for stuffed bell peppers with minced meat. We picked up everything we needed and headed to the apartment on the third floor. Once I unpacked and went to the window, I started feeling uneasy about my suicidal thoughts. I shared my feelings with Ava, and she became concerned, but I reassured her that I wouldn’t go through with it. 

We went to prepare dinner, and as evening came, I started to regret coming to her apartment. A wave of panic hit me, and I told her it would be better if we didn’t see each other again. I started crying, feeling stupid and worthless. We went to sleep, each in a separate bed. 

We spent the rest of Ava’s trip exploring Zagreb. On the day she was leaving, we went to the main station to wait for her train. We visited the underground mall, and as we were leaving, we got to the escalator. I went up first, and she followed behind me. A guy stood a bit too close to her, so I asked him if he could move over. He got angry and questioned what the issue was as we were all going upstairs. Once we reached the top, he realized I was from Split, which seemed to annoy him even more. He mumbled something and walked off. This incident made me continue to see Ava as a magnet for trouble. We went to a café, and she told me that during the time we weren’t talking, before my psychosis, she had another lover. I felt sad, but I couldn’t blame her. After our coffee, we parted ways, and she went back to Split while my dad picked me up and took me back to Rakitje. 

August 

I searched online for the video of my naked run through Split. If you’re outside Croatia, you can find it by searching “Gol trčao po Splitu.” I found several articles titled “A man ran naked through Split!” and a few videos taken by people who witnessed it. I watched one where you could see me running naked through Split. One person filming from their car said, “Man, you’re totally crazy!” In the next part of the video, someone filmed the police arresting me. My face and private parts were visible, and I became angry as I watched it. I stopped the video and didn’t continue watching. I was furious that journalists censored other trivial details, but left me exposed. 

I experienced involuntary tongue movements, a side effect of the antipsychotic medication I was taking. This period was marked by frequent, intrusive suicidal thoughts. Each thought triggered a cascade of similar thoughts, constantly replaying in my mind. I repeatedly pictured myself jumping from a cliff, similar to one I had hiked in Stobreč, approximately 60 feet high. These suicidal ideations were overwhelming, occurring hundreds of times each day. 

My sister, visiting from Denmark, and my mother, from Split, joined my father and me for a hot weekend. While we were walking to get drinks in the city center, I saw a man wearing a jacket and talking to himself. It made me think that perhaps mental instability can affect one’s perception of temperature. 

September 

A short family trip to Split in September was an uncomfortable experience. I felt as though everyone was aware of my previous incident of running naked. I returned to Zagreb a few days later. 

October 

I was discharged from the Day Hospital at the beginning of October, the same day as Sandy. We celebrated our discharge with a final drink together and exchanged contact information. 

My antipsychotic medication was administered monthly via injection into my buttocks, rather than my hands. These injections were painful, and the pain sometimes persisted for several days, making it difficult to walk. 

I decided to treat myself to a new smartphone and purchased a Xiaomi Poco F2 Pro for $500. 

My primary reason for choosing the Xiaomi Poco F2 Pro was its uninterrupted screen, achieved by a pop-up front camera. I began watching Mark Braun’s plumbing videos on YouTube. I had discovered his channel by searching “Plumbing video log MM/DD,” and he uploaded daily content. His videos typically showed him driving from his home’s parking lot to various plumbing jobs around Miami. Each video concluded with a shot of his driveway and the time of day. 

The following day, I noticed a large truck parked in Mark Braun’s driveway in his latest video. I took this as a sign that I should return to YouTube. On October 5th, I created a new YouTube channel called “one of 144,000” and began re-uploading videos. My profile picture featured half of Keanu Reeves’ face from the movie The Devil’s Advocate (1997).

The Keanu Reeves image I chose was from the scene in The Devil’s Advocate where his character shoots himself in the head to escape a nightmare. This felt like an appropriate representation of my current state of mind. 

On October 7, 2020, I wrote the following on a piece of paper: “I intend to bring heaven on Earth, release everyone from bondage, give everybody eternal life, passage into the Garden of Eden and forgiveness for our filthy souls.” I then recited these words aloud. Afterward, I pricked my finger with a needle, smearing the blood onto the writing. I filmed this entire ritual and uploaded it to YouTube under the title “Blood over intent. Again.”

Having deleted my previous YouTube channel, I began recreating some of my old videos. This sparked new ideas for content. I recalled the scene in the movie Ghost (1990) where Patrick Swayze’s character, upon death, chooses not to enter the initial light, instead waiting for another. This, along with other examples from films and television, led me to believe that the Illuminati had embedded subliminal messages about a “soul trap” after death. I titled all of my videos exploring this theme “Avoid the 1st Light After Death (x).” I also remembered Mark Braun’s suggestion to either create videos about the Holy Grail or re-upload his own. 

While re- uploading some of Mark Braun’s videos, I also developed further ideas for my own content, which I titled “The Holy Grail Video (x).” One video concept, “Mason 33° Explained,” was inspired by Mark’s observations. The common perception is that 33rd- degree Freemasons are the most dangerous. However, I posited that Masonry is actually a metaphor for a process of thought. Just as water exists as ice at 32 degrees Fahrenheit (0 degrees Celsius) and begins to melt at 33 degrees Fahrenheit (0.5 degrees Celsius), Freemasonry’s degrees extend far beyond 33. For example, performing the “Blood over intent” ritual and allowing four years to pass—representing 1,460 solar cycles around the Earth—would, according to this logic, make someone a 1460th- degree Mason.

I also created videos using reverse speech, in which my face and torso were visible. I would record myself speaking, then reverse the audio to uncover hidden messages. One commenter said I looked like a zombie, a remark that struck a nerve. I realized I did appear zombie-like, likely due to my therapy. It later occurred to me that I could have retorted, “Yes, but you’re a zombie too, you’re just unaware of it.” However, I had already deleted the videos that showed my face by then. 

I discussed my videos with my father and Dr. Lucy, and they both advised me to stop making them, explaining that these videos were a contributing factor to my psychosis. I told them I would stop after I had explored all my ideas. 

December 

I decided to take some time off before returning to work, either at my old job or a new one. I was living with my father in Rakitje, near Zagreb. I was preoccupied with the thought that everyone in Split, including my former bosses and colleagues, knew about my naked run through the city. My mother reassured me that they likely had no idea. I contacted my former boss about my job, and he told me I could return to work in March 2021. 

I contacted Sandy one day, and she told me she had just been thinking about me. We met for coffee in Zagreb and had a pleasant time catching up. I mentioned to her that I planned to move to Split the following January.

January 

I moved back to Split to live with my mother and brother. I stayed in contact with Sandy, who, having experienced psychosis herself, was one of the few people I could openly discuss it with.

Dr. Lucy informed me that she was leaving the Day Hospital to start her own private practice. While this meant I would have to pay for therapy sessions, I agreed to continue seeing her. We scheduled bi-weekly Skype video calls. I also needed to find a new doctor in Split to prescribe my medication. Fortunately, I found a wonderful doctor who not only agreed to prescribe my medication but also offered to provide therapy sessions.

While I appreciated the new doctor, Dr. Lucy had a deeper understanding of my mental and physical state, especially in the early stages of my recovery. I felt more comfortable and unrestricted in my conversations with her. Dr. Lucy explained that I needed to address a significant void left by the psychosis, which meant finding ways to experience joy and well-being again. She recommended physical activity, believing it would accelerate my recovery. This led to me running with my brother on the peninsula. The experience felt like a constant state of waking up and immediately needing to go somewhere while still half-asleep. During the run, I told my brother I wished I were dead, but clarified that I wasn’t actively suicidal.

February 

I continued to struggle with daily suicidal thoughts and experienced both excessive sleeping and restless sleep. On the positive side, the nightmares had stopped. Even Dr. Lucy was surprised that my dreams, when I did have them, were vivid and pleasant. 

March 

I returned to my old job, which required me to fight constant drowsiness and suicidal thoughts throughout my shifts. I longed for the days when I lived alone, simply working, getting high after work, and repeating the cycle. My work hours were from 6 p.m. to 2 a.m. 

My mental state at this time can be best described by a video from the game Max Payne. The video revolves around the part Max Payne was on a drug trip as he ran through the maze. The video accurately reflects my internal struggles with hopelessness, suicidal ideation, regret for the past, and the feeling that I was living in a simulation, all while experiencing a sense of physical numbness. 

April 

I began taking a new antidepressant, Velafax. After about two weeks, it began to take effect, and I started to feel significantly better. 

June 

In June, my work schedule changed to 7 p.m. to 3 a.m., which meant I once again shifted to a nocturnal lifestyle. 

July 

Despite telling Ava in Zagreb the previous year that I didn’t want to see her again, I now found myself wanting to reconnect. I still had her phone number, and she could see my  WhatsApp statuses. One morning after work, I recorded a sunrise and set it to the beginning of Calvin Harris’s “Thinking About You.” I posted it as a WhatsApp status, but she didn’t respond. Later, I saw that she had found work near my village, close to Drniš. She even posted a picture of a signpost pointing to my village as a WhatsApp status. I couldn’t resist messaging her, asking, “What are you doing there?” She replied promptly, and we resumed our communication. 

A few days later, Ava posted a WhatsApp status showing our old spot on Kašjuni beach. I took the opportunity to invite her to Makarska. After noticing she deleted a message in our chat, she responded positively. She was on vacation, so we went one weekend. We visited Nugal beach, hoping to swim nude with others, but some clothed people were there. Despite this, we still had a good time. That evening, after the beach, we had dinner in Makarska. 

We continued to meet up for swims and drinks afterwards, occasionally taking walks around the city as well. 

In September, we booked a hotel for a vacation on the island of Mljet. 

September 

At the end of September, Ava and I were both on vacation. We drove to the island of Mljet, stopping for coffee in Makarska along the way. We then took a ferry to Mljet and arrived at our hotel late in the afternoon, checking into our room.

After arriving at our hotel on Mljet, we had dinner and then strolled around the town. We enjoyed a drink by the sea before returning to the hotel. Although we shared a bed, sex was not something I was focused on. 

The following morning, after breakfast, we went for a nude swim in the Little Lake. It wasn’t crowded, as it was late in the season. I had chosen the Little Lake specifically because its water temperature can reach 86°F (30°C) in the summer. We swam, sunbathed, and then went for a drink. 

The day after our swim in the Little Lake, we visited Odysseus Cave, located on a rocky cliff on the south side of the island. We decided to swim there as well. I wore swimming trunks, while Ava went topless. I filmed her as she positioned herself on the rocks above the sea for a dive. Her head dive was excellent, as always. She surfaced, turned to me, and exclaimed, “Wonderful!” I put my phone away and jumped in after her. As we swam toward the cave, Ava revealed she was swimming naked, her swimsuit tied to her wrist. I followed suit, and we swam together into the impressive cave. 

The following day, we drove to the opposite side of Mljet, where there was a sandy beach. It was relatively deserted, with only a few people present and some boats anchored offshore. Despite arriving dressed, we again swam naked. While hugging Ava, I became aroused. She sensed this and attempted to mount me, but the time and place weren’t appropriate. 

On our last morning on Mljet, we cuddled in bed. I attempted to stimulate her, but she wasn’t responsive. I stopped, we packed our bags, and prepared to return to Split. 

Before leaving, I told her, “I want to have incredible sex with you, so we connect on multiple levels. I want you to have an experience where you say, ‘I’ve never felt that before; I didn’t know I could do it,’ things like that. I want to please you as much as myself.” 

It was crucial to catch the ferry back to the mainland. Once there, we went for a swim at a nearby sandy beach, this time wearing our swimsuits. Ava expressed her desire to go topless, and despite my initial hesitation, I ultimately let her do as she pleased. Again, we ended up swimming naked and became aroused. We moved further out, where the water was deeper, and I embraced her. She attempted to mount me, but the situation was too awkward. We left the water to get towels. Some older men were looking at her, but I understood why. 

We then drove to Ston for lunch and drinks before continuing on to Split. 

October 

While on our trip to Mljet, Ava and I took many photos and videos. I edited a montage of the trip, and as I was watching it, I noticed a moment where Ava jumped headfirst into the sea. Instead of saying “Wonderful!” as expected, she said “Wordful!” It felt as though something had changed in the video. It reminded me of a picture with three spots, and I started thinking that the archons might have altered the video. I felt like they had immense power.

At one point, the effect of Velafax was so strong that I imagined myself holding the railing on my balcony with both hands and jumping in place. I felt a rush of happiness, and the thought crossed my mind: what if, after jumping in place, I actually jumped off the balcony? I didn’t want to kill myself; it was just a fleeting thought. I shared this with both of my psychiatrists, and as a result, Velafax was taken out of my treatment. I regretted mentioning it because Velafax had been working well for me. 

In the days after discontinuing Velafax, I experienced some strange sensations. Occasionally, for a few seconds, I felt a shiver running through my body, and my vision would blur briefly. I had to push through these moments while continuing with my work. 

January 

I decided to revisit my interest in penis enlargement. I went to pegym.com, which had since become biohacker.com. I created a new account under the name Casino_400 and began participating in the forums. I shared my story, including my experience with psychosis and how I had initially discovered pegym.com at the age of 18 but hadn’t consistently followed through with the exercises. I quickly accumulated reputation points, and some members likely found my posts helpful. One night, I took and posted pictures of my penis in both its flaccid and erect states, with a ruler for scale, on the forum. 

I contracted Covid and, while ill, attempted to resume my penis enlargement exercises. However, my progress wasn’t the same as before, due to both the effects of Covid and my ongoing recovery from psychosis. I was unable to work for a week.

While browsing the biohacker.com forums (formerly pegym.com), I contacted one of the site’s administrators, known as Big Al. He had authored a book on penis enlargement, which I had downloaded and read. He wore glasses, which coincidentally led me to discover endmyopia.org, a website claiming to improve vision through exercises. I wondered if I would eventually need such a resource. I shared the endmyopia.org link with Big Al, which resulted in me being banned from Biohacker for “spam”—specifically, sharing paid content without authorization. 

February 

On February 24, 2022, Russia launched a large-scale invasion of Ukraine, significantly escalating the ongoing conflict that had begun in 2014. This invasion, the largest military conflict in Europe since World War II, has led to a high number of military casualties and tens of thousands of civilian deaths in Ukraine. 

May 

My grandfather from Split started experiencing dementia and had to be placed in a nursing home. As a result, there was no one available to care for Uncle Benny, so he moved to Zagreb to live with my dad. 

I continued to struggle with suicidal thoughts and a sense of meaninglessness while working. I also developed a suspicion that my coworkers were part of the Illuminati, based on a specific incident. Ray and other colleagues had teased another coworker about his Instagram photos. This colleague had apparently posted a picture of himself posing in a way that suggested he was covering his groin area. Seeing this, I was reminded of an incident at a gay beach where a fisherman had wanted to take my picture while I was covering myself. I became paranoid, believing that everyone knew about that situation and that the teasing was actually directed at me. 

I spoke with my bosses, telling them I was considering quitting, but that I would continue working for as long as possible. I did not disclose my health issues to them. 

June 

I began to feel increasingly restless at work. Ironically, despite this restlessness, I consistently finished last because I was assigned more challenging tasks than my colleagues. This was frustrating, and I once confronted Ray, who always finished first. He then attempted to deflect attention from himself by talking about other colleagues who finished between us. During a particularly demanding week, work had to be postponed until the following day. Ray and several others subsequently took sick leave, leaving me alone with the student workers who now comprised the majority of the team. I was thrust into a leadership position, which I felt unprepared for. The person who printed the work orders instructed me that we needed to complete the previous day’s work, followed by the second and third parts of the current day’s assignment. My concentration was poor, and I felt uncertain. I couldn’t recall the instructions I had been given. I sent a student to clarify the work order. Somehow, I managed to get through the night and went to sleep in the morning. I woke up late on Friday afternoon, June 10th, and just before my shift, I decided I couldn’t face work. I needed to escape the situation. I called one of my bosses and told him I was quitting. He accepted my resignation and instructed me to contact another boss on Monday to formally complete the process. It was Monday morning, June 13th, and I had been unable to sleep the entire night. I called another boss around 8 a.m., and he expressed his disappointment with my decision to quit. He told me I was leaving right before the start of the summer season, as if I were abandoning him. His tone carried a hint of repressed anger. He sarcastically thanked me and suggested it would be best if I didn’t seek employment elsewhere. Finally, he stated that his lawyer would be in touch with me. 

My restlessness intensified to the point that I emailed Dr. Lucy, describing my current situation. She responded promptly and offered comfort. 

July 

I was unemployed that summer and wanted to take some time to recover before looking for another job. Ava invited me to the beach, and we swam naked again. However, it didn’t feel the same as before. I was restless while sunbathing with her, constantly anticipating problems. I felt that Ava was a magnet for trouble, considering what had happened to her ex-husband (he was assaulted) and the numerous conflicts she had experienced. After all, my first encounter with her was during a dispute she had with a woman who came to the beach and took her spot.

July’s heat had warmed the sea to a comfortable 82 degrees Fahrenheit. Knowing my preference for warm water, Ava invited me to the beach again. However, I declined. I also found it ironic that a tourist destination like Split lacked an official nudist beach, yet had three designated dog beaches. 

I traveled to Zagreb to visit my father and my uncle Benny. I had an idea to produce compost soil using earthworms and shared it with my father, who thought it was a great concept. Dr. Lucy was also enthusiastic and supportive when I discussed it with her during therapy. However, while out for drinks with Uncle Benny, he realistically pointed out the risks involved in the compost project, emphasizing the time and financial investment required.

One afternoon, while I was in Rakitje, I was messaging Ava on WhatsApp. She was at the beach and sent me a photo of about six or seven naked men occupying her usual spot, while she was on the other side. I assumed they were gay, as Kašjuni beach was known for its seclusion and was often frequented by gay men. Ava captioned the photo “Snowflake and 7 gays,” and told me they were acting cocky and possessive about their spot. Perhaps due to my own frustration at not being there with her, or perhaps because I doubted I would have defended her, I sent her a message saying, “Who knows what the hell you do while you’re on the beach, I bet those ‘gays’ took turns on you!” She immediately replied, “I’m going to block you, don’t ever call me again!” I regretted my words and even asked Uncle Benny if I had gone too far. He told me that I had essentially called her a slut, and that her anger was completely understandable.

August 

While researching archons, I found a Facebook post from April 9, 2014, on a page called “Divine Pollination.” The caption accompanying the post explained that the clip showed how archons gain control of human souls at or before death by manipulating individuals into agreements. The post claimed archons have no real power beyond this manipulation, their goal being to capture souls and feed on them within the reincarnation cycle. 

Additionally, the text explained how to escape reincarnation on Earth. It read: “The Master said: James, listen, I will show you the path to your salvation. When you face challenges and feel great fear, many Archons may come after you, believing they can capture you. Three of them will approach, disguising themselves as ‘toll collectors.’ They will demand a fee, but their true intent is to steal souls. 

The text continues by explaining that when you fall under their control, one of them, who is the leader, will ask: “Who are you, and where do you come from?” 

In response, you should reply, “I am a child of humanity, and I come from the Source.”

Then, the leader will question, “What kind of child are you, and which Source do you belong to?” 

You should answer, “I am from the Source of pre-existence, and I am the descendant of the Source.” 

The text further explains that the overseer will ask, “Why were you sent away from the Source?” 

In response, you should say, “I came from the pre-existent One to witness both those of my kind and those who are alien.” 

They will then ask, “Who are these alien beings?” 

You should reply, “They are not fully alien, for they come from the Fallen Sophia (Achamoth), the female divinity who created them when she descended with the human race from the Source, the realm of the Pre-Existent One. So, they are not truly alien; they are our relatives. 

These beings are indeed like that because their origin, Sophia Achamoth, comes from the Source. However, they are also considered alien because, unlike in the Source where Sophia was united with her divine male counterpart, she did not combine with him when she brought them into existence. 

When he asks you, “Where are you going now?” you should reply, “I am returning to the place from which I came, the Source.”

If you answer in this manner, you will be able to evade their assaults. 

I wrote down this dialogue on paper, thinking it might help if I ever die and need to avoid reincarnation. I tried memorizing it, but I struggled with remembering the part about Sophia Achamoth. 

I watched videos by Mark Braun where he discussed death. He mentioned that if you die, you could use “ley-lines” to fly, but eventually, they’d catch you. The solution, he said, is to enter the darkness, focus your consciousness inward into your heart, and say, “Take me home.” 

While researching the Bible, I came across a website called letgodbetrue.com. I appreciated how it analyzed each verse from Proverbs. One of the analyses mentioned that we should obey the God of Solomon. I read this in my room, and then it suggested that I should kneel at that moment. I followed the advice and knelt to thank the God of Solomon. 

I was reading the biblical analysis of Proverbs 6:18, which states: “A heart that plans wicked things, feet that quickly run to do evil, a false witness who spreads lies, and someone who stirs up conflict among others.” 

I hadn’t smoked cigarettes for 10 months, but the urge to smoke was strong. I felt ashamed of my instincts. Eventually, I asked Uncle Benny for cigarettes and went outside to smoke. I felt weak, as though I was giving in to temptation. However, since then, I began thanking the God of Solomon for various things. I would cross myself and say, “Thank you, God of Solomon, for protecting me during the car accident while I was on drugs, while I was driving high toward Slovenia, when I almost fell onto a tree at the beach, and when I didn’t go blind staring at the sun at 10-11 in the morning,” and more. 

The website letgodbetrue.com had some intriguing statements. One said that Song of Songs 8:3 describes the best sex position, with the verse reading: “His left hand is under my head, and his right hand embraces me.” Another statement claimed that by eating the forbidden fruit, Adam and Eve caused 150 billion children to enter a damned state. I interpreted this to mean that it referred to the total number of people who have lived and will live on Earth. 

I came up with an idea for a new drink and proposed it to Coca-Cola. Since I liked how Coca-Cola tasted when it lost its carbonation, I thought they might be interested in my idea, and it would make me a lot of money. I envisioned the drink with two silver ribbons on the label and named it “Coca-Cola Silver.” However, they told me they couldn’t make it happen, though they appreciated me sharing the idea with them. 

Shortly after I sent my email, a new product appeared in our warehouse and on the market. It was decaffeinated Coca-Cola. It did have two ribbons on the label, but they were bronze instead of silver. This felt like another sign of the Illuminati’s influence.

The next sign I noticed was when Heineken launched a new product called “Heineken Silver.” 

September 

I decided I wanted to become a plumber like Mark Braun. I thought it would be great to record my work and share it on YouTube. To make filming easier, I bought a head- mounted camera, which allowed me to be “hands-free” and use both hands while working. Unlike Mark Braun, who filmed with his phone and had to use one hand, I figured this would be a better option. 

October 

One Friday morning, I met one of my father’s friends who knew a plumber. We went to Zagreb together to do some plumbing work. I used a jackhammer to drill passages for the pipes, and then we installed a few pipes in the area. 

On Saturday, I called the plumber to ask if he wanted me to work on Monday. He told me that he had found another apprentice to work with him and his father, so I wouldn’t be working with him anymore. I shared this with uncle Benny, and he thought it was unfair that the plumber only reached out to me when he needed extra help. Apparently, the new apprentice and his father had already been introduced a few days before. 

November 

I decided to translate the videos on my YouTube channel into various languages, organizing them into playlists for each language. At the same time, I stopped my sessions with Dr. Lucy because they had become repetitive, and I lost interest. 

December 

My father’s cousin offered me a job at a bakery in Zagreb. I was hired at their factory and signed the contract around the same time the world’s population reached 8 billion. My job involved standing by the conveyor belt and monitoring the quality of the dough. The first few days were easy, but I eventually made some mistakes, and the shift supervisor yelled at me from across the conveyor belt. The factory employed both men and women. 

Alternating between morning (6 a.m. to 2 p.m.) and evening (2 p.m. to 10 p.m.) shifts made it difficult for me to adjust my sleep schedule. On morning shift weeks, I struggled to wake up at 4 a.m., even though I went to bed around 8 or 9 p.m. I’d often wake up an hour later, still feeling groggy. I even had some unsettling dreams about being on a conveyor belt with endless dough, waking up in a slight panic before realizing it was just a dream. The 12-mile drive to work at 5 a.m. was also a challenge. The empty, quiet roads of Zagreb made me drowsy, and I had to fight to stay awake behind the wheel. 

Thankfully, I never actually fell asleep while driving.

January

My bosses told me I was performing well at my job, primarily working on the conveyor belt. At the end of January, we had a large order of donuts to prepare for the upcoming masquerade carnival in February. One day, instead of working on the assembly line, we were moved to another part of the factory to pack donuts. I was slow at this task, as was one of the student workers. Another female coworker yelled at us for being slow, emphasizing that she didn’t want any donuts to be late for packing. Later, I struggled to move a large box, and another female coworker became angry, moving it herself while telling me to put more enthusiasm into my work. Surrounded by these stressed and irritable people, I had a fleeting thought of suicide, wondering why my younger brother was dead while these seemingly unpleasant people were still alive. 

February 

In February, the donut packing was completed, and my boss assigned me to a different conveyor belt where bread was being produced. He instructed me to group the loaves into sets of three for further packaging, with every third loaf placed on a shelf. I began the task, but another employee soon intervened, telling me to do it differently. As I placed loaves on the shelf, more and more bread arrived, quickly filling the available space. I then placed some loaves over the conveyor belt itself. My boss saw this and became furious, yelling, “That’s not how you fucking do it!” He then ordered me to put the loaves back onto the conveyor belt. I didn’t defend myself by explaining that his initial instructions had been unclear. He then demonstrated the correct procedure, and I asked some clarifying questions. He responded arrogantly, telling me that he was speaking Croatian. After he left, I decided to kill myself.

I went home and planned to travel to Split to jump off the cliff I used to hike near while living in Stobreč. This cliff was a recurring thought in my mind whenever I experienced suicidal ideation. 

The following day, Friday, at dawn, I woke to a cold morning. My car was covered in a thick layer of ice, which proved difficult to remove. I tried scraping it off, but it was too stubborn. I got into the car and attempted to drive to work, but the remaining ice made it unsafe. Frustrated that I couldn’t even return to the job I hated, I drove back to the parking lot. I then made the final decision to end my life, hoping to go to Heaven and escape this terrible place. I called in sick to work, telling a coworker I wouldn’t be coming in. I sat in my car, smoked a cigarette, and contemplated the journey to Split. As I sat in the car, I turned on the heating system and noticed the ice beginning to melt. But by then, I felt it was too late. A new, sunny day had begun, and I started driving towards Split. I entered the highway, facing a 250-mile drive. I stopped at a gas station for breakfast, thinking it would be my last meal. I continued driving and arrived in Split around 2 p.m.

It felt surreal to be there in such a suicidal mindset. I stopped in Stobreč to buy chicken at a fast-food restaurant, thinking it would be my last lunch. I could see the cliff where I planned to jump. After eating, I got back in my car and drove uphill, parking halfway to the cliff. As I was smoking a cigarette, my boss called. Fortunately, the connection was poor, and I couldn’t hear him clearly.

I texted my boss back on WhatsApp, and he replied, asking me to bring him the doctor’s note certifying my sick leave. Then, my mother called, asking how I was feeling. She was unaware that I was in Split. I told her I was fine and was going to have coffee with Sandy. After hanging up, I got out of the car and started walking towards the cliff. The sunny day made me sweat as I climbed the hill. Reaching the base of the cliff, I abandoned my suicidal plan. The height wasn’t sufficient to guarantee a fatal outcome. I realized that, if given the opportunity, I would have preferred to jump from a plane without a parachute. 

I returned to my car, and on the way back, I decided to drown myself in one of the Rakitje lakes instead. Driving down the hill, I stopped to buy oranges and bread. I then headed back towards Zagreb. My father texted me, asking where I was. I replied that I was going to Sandy’s for pancakes, which bought me some time. I stopped for coffee on the way to Zagreb. The sunny day transitioned into night. Driving towards Zagreb, I had to contend with frustrated truckers around Karlovac. After exiting the highway in Zagreb, my father called again, asking my location. I told him I was almost home. Once home, I placed the bread and oranges on the table and told my father that I had called in sick to work and spent the day with Sandy. 

I spent the following day at home planning my drowning. I decided to fake going to work the next day, Sunday. That Sunday arrived, and I pretended to pack my bags and leave for work. Instead, I went to a café to wait until nightfall, not wanting to attempt suicide during daylight hours. I spent the day drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes. When night fell, I drove to Lake Rakitje. There was a small security booth near the entrance, so I avoided driving on the roads around the lake to avoid being seen by the guard. I parked my car in Rakitje and stopped for pizza. I then walked towards the lakes, scouting out a suitable spot to drown. I found a location, but when the moment came, I was overcome with fear. I felt angry that I wanted to die, yet lacked the courage to do it. I knew that if I gave up on suicide, I would likely end up in a mental hospital again. Ultimately, I returned home. 

The next day, Monday, February 13th, I planned to drown myself in the bathtub. My father owned two vacant apartments in a hostel. I told him and Uncle Benny that I was going to work. I “left” our apartment and went to one of the empty ones. My plan was to fill the bathtub and drown myself. However, when I got there, I questioned what I was doing. I gave up and returned to the apartment where my father and Uncle Benny were. I confessed to my father that I had been in Split a few days prior. He admitted he had seen a bag of bread from Split but assumed I had gone there to buy marijuana. I then told him that I had been trying to kill myself but had been unable to go through with it, recounting my recent failed drowning attempts. We then called a psychiatric hospital and requested help. They instructed us to come in for a consultation. 

My father drove us to the psychiatric hospital, where we spoke with a doctor. After our conversation, the doctor determined that I couldn’t be allowed to go home given what I had shared. I was admitted to the psychiatric hospital, which had separate wards for men and women. Upon arrival, I had to give up my wallet, and a technician explained the hospital procedures to me. I then began my therapy. 

In the psychiatric hospital, I met other patients, some of whom had attempted suicide. One man was there because he had thrown two dogs off a balcony. Overall, the facility was better than the one in Split. Each room had its own video surveillance and bathroom. I was assigned a new doctor who monitored my case and adjusted my medication. We had regular therapy sessions together. There was a designated smoking area for our free time. The food was excellent, and I gained weight due to the combination of the meals and medication. At my initial treatment at the Day Hospital, I weighed 187 lbs. This time, I reached 230 lbs and developed a noticeable belly. After a week, I was granted permission to go outside the hospital grounds. My father visited me frequently. 

March 

My contract with the bakery had expired, so I was no longer employed there. I went outside the psychiatric hospital with my father, and we visited some cafes. My doctor suggested that I transition to a Day hospital program, which was affiliated with the clinic. I agreed, but initially found it boring and felt constantly sleepy. I almost gave up, but my doctor encouraged me to try again. I did, and eventually, I began to enjoy it. The group consisted of people ranging in age from their 20s to their 50s.

One evening, as I was preparing for bed in the clinic, my former boss from Split called. He asked if I was interested in returning to the Coca-Cola warehouse. This time, they were offering me a permanent position, not a month-to-month contract. I was happy to hear this and told him I would give him my answer in a few days. The next day, I discussed it with my doctor, who advised that the job might not be the best choice, citing the night shift and the monotonous nature of the work. However, she respected my autonomy and allowed me to make my own decision. 

My doctor at the clinic advised me to contact Dr. Lucy, which I did. I emailed her on March 3rd, explaining my situation, and she replied a few days later. She expressed sympathy for what I had been through and suggested that we reconnect for therapy sessions once I had completed my hospital treatment. Despite a full schedule, she assured me she would make time for me. She was the best doctor I could have ever asked for. 

I informed my former boss that I wanted to return to the warehouse job, but that I couldn’t start immediately. I continued attending the Day hospital program and found a sense of belonging there. One day, during a self-description exercise, people told me I seemed well and happy. I then decided to share my full story, from the death of my youngest brother to my first psychotic episode, including the incident of running naked. When I spoke about my brother, some of the women, especially the one who was a mortician, were moved to tears. One woman expressed a fear of doing something harmful, a feeling that both I and another man shared. We discussed it and came to the conclusion that contemplating these darker possibilities actually helps to prevent them from happening.

While at a local café with some fellow patients from the clinic, we discussed drugs. One man recounted his experience with LSD, including a claim of developing “X-ray vision.” He described being in Zagreb with friends, including his girlfriend. He said he told her he could see that she was menstruating, which surprised her because she was indeed having her period. He then claimed he could see police officers approaching their location from a distance, hidden between buildings. This story reminded me of my own experience in college when I felt I could see my pants and shoes through the table, and it made me think again about the possibility of superhuman abilities. 

The man at the cafe said he had once used speed and other drugs for five days straight. I asked him how long he slept afterward, and he replied, “a full two days.” I was impressed, as the longest I had ever slept was 34 hours. 

April 

On April 3rd, I was discharged from the psychiatric hospital and continued attending the Day Hospital program until April 17th. A fellow patient encouraged my desire to return to work. I had a productive therapy session with Dr. Lucy on April 19th, where I shared my plans to move back to Split at the beginning of May. She cautioned me about the challenges of the night shift but acknowledged that it was a better alternative than being unemployed. 

May 

Returning to work felt refreshing. Everyone commented on my weight gain, and I told them about my time working in the bakery. I knew I wouldn’t enjoy every single day, but it was a skill I possessed, and I genuinely liked it at least 70% of the time. Suicidal thoughts no longer plagued me. Every day before work, I would cross myself, invoking the God of Solomon for protection. I would repeat this gesture whenever I first got into my car each day, after which I would fasten my seatbelt. 

On May 15th, the third anniversary of my psychotic break, I sent a message to Ava, apologizing for everything. She never responded. It was truly over between us. I then posted a WhatsApp status dedicated to her, featuring a picture I took of the sunrise over Split, with the caption, “We will meet in a better world.” 

July 

I worked hard and we were usually at work by 4-5 in the morning. 

Sometimes even until 6 in the morning. I would usually be tired on the weekends and sleep a lot. Once I slept from Saturday morning to Sunday evening. That meant a total of 34 hours spent in bed. 

I maintained regular contact with Dr. Lucy and my psychiatrist in Split. I consistently took my medication, including a monthly antipsychotic injection. While I still had thoughts about saving the world and the idea that we were all trapped in a literal hell, my two doctors provided close monitoring, ensuring I didn’t relapse. 

October 

While browsing YouTube, I came across a scene from the animated TV series “Rick and Morty.” The scene depicted the two characters entering a game store filled with various aliens and humans playing games. One of the games was called “Roy,” and it was “played” by wearing a helmet. One of the characters was then fitted with the helmet.

The “Rick and Morty” scene then showed the character’s consciousness being transferred to an alternate reality. In this reality, he completely forgot about the game and began living a seemingly normal life. The only way to exit the game was for him to die within it. 

The “Roy” game scene from “Rick and Morty” sparked a thought: What if our reality is similar—a game or simulation we’re trapped in, with death being the only way out? 

Then I watched the movie Inception. It is a 2010 sci-fi action movie.

In “Inception,” the characters have the ability to enter each other’s dreams and accomplish tasks there. The central plot revolves around a character’s dream to subconsciously program another character to perform a specific action in real life. Some characters even go “into a dream within a dream,” creating multiple dream levels. One character was so deep within these dream levels, in a place referred to as “Limbo,” that he had forgotten how he got there. The main protagonist’s objective was to enter Limbo, so that he and the character trapped there could escape by committing suicide within the dream and returning to reality. 

I interpreted “Inception” as another message from the Illuminati. I believed I could live on Earth for hundreds of years, and that only death could offer salvation. 

November 

On November 3rd, I launched a new YouTube channel called Mr Flossich.

I started a YouTube channel called Mr. Flossich on November 3rd with the goal of making money by filming myself brushing my teeth. My plan was to create something original to gain attention and then secure collaborations with dental product companies. I filmed videos of myself flossing and brushing, focusing only on my mouth. I was hesitant to show my face as I had in the reverse talk videos on my previous channel, “one of 144,000.” To improve the quality of my videos, I purchased a new phone with a better camera, a Nubia ZTE Z50 Ultra, for $600.

I liked its under-display selfie camera. 

I visited my dentist and purchased a teeth whitening kit. I eventually stopped using it due to the pain it caused, but my teeth were noticeably whiter, by one or two shades. 

I was thrilled to get my first subscriber on November 20th. It felt really good. 

During my two-week vacation, I traveled to Zagreb to see my father and Uncle Benny, and I also met with Sandy at a local coffee shop. Uncle Benny expressed his desire to join me for a session with Dr. Lucy. On the appointed day, we left early to avoid my father. Dr. Lucy finally met my uncle, and we had a group discussion. After Uncle Benny left, she commented that she could see how much I valued him. I then read her the message I had written, expressing my belief that life was a hellhole, a simulation, and so on. For the first time, she became somewhat upset and pleaded with me to abandon this line of thinking. The session ended abruptly, leaving me disappointed and saddened. A week later, back in Split, I had a therapy session with my doctor there and shared the same message. She concluded that I still held a paranoid view of reality.

During my vacation, I continued creating and uploading videos of my flossing and brushing routine, which resulted in an increase in both subscribers and views. 

December 

On December 1st, I launched a TikTok account for Mr. Flossich. My first video quickly garnered around 900 views, which was exciting and made me think the channel would become very popular. 

Dr. Lucy and I came to the conclusion that my experience with psychosis was a traumatic one, similar to the experience of war. I felt a sense of pride in this, as war survivors are often viewed with respect and admiration in our society.

January

At the start of 2024, I received a Facebook message from Barby Jo. We spoke on the phone, and he told me he was in Split and wanted to meet up. He mentioned he’d had drinks with Jim and Danny. I felt nervous, worried that everyone from high school knew about my psychotic episode and the naked running incident. Despite my social anxieties, I accepted the invitation, and we met the following day. It was great to see Barby Jo after so many years. I also greeted Danny, and a few minutes later, Jim joined us. They were all in relationships—Danny was married, and his wife was pregnant, while Jim had experienced some hair loss. I didn’t mention anything about my psychosis. 

On a rainy January 17th, we set off for Herzegovina to visit Barby Joe. The 1.5-hour car ride left me feeling claustrophobic, and I immediately regretted my decision to go. 

We arrived in Ljubuški and met up with Barby Jo. We went to a restaurant and ordered a pizza. After a brief conversation, I opened up to them about my claustrophobia and the unease I was feeling. I also shared that I “had experienced a psychosis that was a frightening, uncomfortable, and horrible experience.” I didn’t mention the naked running incident. They were very understanding and compassionate about what I’d been through. 

February 

I reconnected with Barby Jo, Jim, and Danny. Jim and Danny still lived in Split, so we went out for drinks together a few times. I also became close friends with Sandy. My interest in the Mr. Flossich YouTube channel, however, significantly declined. 

March 

On March 11th, I stopped uploading new videos to the Mr. Flossich channel. By that point, it had amassed approximately 150 subscribers and 57,000 views. 

My doctors, Dr. Lucy and my psychiatrist in Split, both agreed that I was recovering well. I learned that the chances of experiencing another psychotic episode are 97% if I stop taking my medication on my own. However, if I discontinue medication under the guidance of my doctors and continue with regular check-ups, the probability of another episode decreases to approximately 20%. 

I began sleeping without pants or socks. 

I purchased a brand new, high-end pair of wireless headphones: the Bowers & Wilkins Px8 007 Edition. They cost $750, and initially, they sounded no different than my old $90 headphones. However, after a week of use, I noticed a significant improvement in sound quality, and they began to sound fantastic.

April 

My recovery was going exceptionally well, and my work life was stable. This positive momentum inspired me to write a book about my experiences. I had a strong desire for the book to make a positive impact on the world. My doctors and I discussed this, and they felt that such aspirations were healthy, provided I kept my expectations realistic and didn’t become overly ambitious. I reasoned that, even if the book didn’t reach a wide audience, it would be a valuable tool for Dr. Lucy, essentially replacing 100 to 200 therapy sessions. Given that each session was an hour long and occurred every other week, our progress was gradual, but we were moving forward. I began writing this book on April 13, 2024. 

As I was writing my book on my cell phone, I realized that I needed a laptop because my fingers were starting to hurt. I opted for a used, refurbished, and inexpensive Lenovo laptop. 

I hoped it would be the best $250 I’d ever spent. 

May 

Writing this book brought back memories and feelings from earlier parts of my life, and I realized how far I’d come. I still hoped to die within the next few years. I recalled stories of near-death experiences, where people described their entire life flashing before their eyes. It was a final, almost magical wish of mine: to read this book, to see my life story laid out before me in all its complexity, and then to die. I pictured myself in the afterlife, consciously avoiding the bright light often described after death, choosing instead to go into the darkness. I even imagined being apprehended by the archons, as described on “The Angel of Death” YouTube channel, while my eyes were closed, recalling The Angel of Death’s warning: “No one upon seeing the face of Death is able to save himself.”

My brother, a newly graduated maritime engineer, was preparing to board his ship in a few weeks. I lived with him and my mother. Often, when I returned home from work, he would be asleep on the living room couch. I would sometimes have the unsettling thought that he was dead, just like my late brother, Henry. On one occasion, while he was sleeping, he moved his hand to the back of his head, which partially opened one of his eyes. I was transfixed by the sight of someone sleeping with their eye slightly open, and I noticed his eye moving smoothly beneath the lid. It was a disturbing yet fascinating sight. At another time, I experienced intrusive thoughts, wondering what would happen if I took a large kitchen knife and stabbed him in the eyes. I had no desire to act on these intrusive thoughts, but I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if I were suddenly overcome by a similar urge, like the one that led me to run naked through Split. I remembered the woman from the Day hospital who expressed her fear of doing something harmful, and I felt saddened by my own thoughts. I took some comfort in the knowledge that simply thinking about something doesn’t automatically lead to doing it. I experienced similar intrusive thoughts when my father visited from Zagreb. Seeing him asleep on the living room couch would trigger the same thoughts about the knife and his eyes. 

June 

I celebrated my 30th birthday. I discussed with my psychiatrists the possibility of suing the news outlets and websites that had published the uncensored video of me running naked through Split. My doctors encouraged me to explore this option, and I hoped for a significant financial settlement and the removal of the videos. I contacted several lawyers, but it turned out that it was too late. The statute of limitations had expired, and I was no longer able to take legal action. I suppose I was too preoccupied with saving the world and creating videos about the Holy Grail to pursue it at the time. 

The hot summer weather led me to sleep without clothes, socks, or even sheets. My body temperature regulation seemed to have returned to normal. 

July 

On July 14th, 2024, I completed the first draft of this book. It was a very rough and unedited version, totaling 137 pages in Word, containing 77,557 words.

My dreams were vivid and I enjoyed sleeping. My dream settings often revisited or altered familiar locations like the warehouse, the suburbs, Split, and Zagreb. 

Sometimes, I would dream about something, and it would later happen in real life— déjà vu. I continued my practice of crossing myself and thanking the God of Solomon for everything I could think of. I had begun to sleep less and wake up more easily, even messaging Dr. Lucy about this positive change. However, about a week later, I reverted to sleeping excessively and struggling to wake up. My appetite also fluctuated between extreme hunger, which I somehow managed to tolerate, and an overwhelming need for food. 

My usual morning routine consisted of a Coca-Cola, coffee, and cigarettes. I was smoking about a pack a day. 

August 

In early August 2024, I developed a new worldview. I came to believe that only 144,000 people were truly real, while the rest were merely empty vessels animated by artificial intelligence. This idea provided a framework that seemed to explain everything to me. I became convinced that our world was a computer simulation, with Adam and Eve as the first AI-generated humans. Even the animals in the Garden of Eden, I reasoned, were constructs of artificial intelligence. The significance of this AI element, in my mind, was that it meant no one could truly be harmed except for the 144,000 real individuals. 

I began to believe that I was originally from Heaven and chose to come to Earth, along with 144,000 other heavenly souls, to explore the fundamental questions of existence. These questions included: “Why does existence exist?”, “Who is the creator of all reality?”, and “What is the ultimate origin and end?” We co-exist on Earth with AI-created humans. The Earth simulation, as I perceived it, is 6,000 years old, and the 144,000 “real” people have been placed here within the last few decades.

According to this belief system, the reason the 144,000 chose to live on Earth was to gain knowledge and understanding that they lacked in Heaven. It’s posited that AI humans also exist in Heaven, and that the AI humans on Earth are essentially copies of their heavenly counterparts. The idea is that it’s impossible to distinguish between a “real” person from the 144,000 and an AI human, as their outward appearances and behaviors are identical. 

My belief system at this time included the idea that God in Heaven was both real and not real. Real, in the sense that we, the heavenly beings, created this world as a means of discovery, which in turn made us all gods. Not real, in that there wasn’t a personal God, but rather a kind of universal force. I recalled Mark Braun’s statement about “people watching this shit above the dome on their computer screens,” and I believed we were part of some kind of reality show being observed. I thought that upon leaving this Earthly realm, we would finally reunite with our true families and the original versions of the people whose copies populated this world. Ultimately, I concluded that no one, anywhere, possessed the answers to the fundamental questions of existence, and that perhaps no one ever would. 

I also entertained the idea that Earth was a kind of prison for me, a consequence of evil deeds committed in a past life. At times, I even believed I was the only real person alive, and that everyone else was an AI construct, a projection of my own subconscious.

I reflected on Ava, Stacey, and Amber. I also recalled the educated priest I met at Barby Jo’s house during my visit a year prior, and how, despite his learning, he seemed unaware of the “truth” as I now perceived it. 

I experienced suicidal thoughts, and because I lived in a sixth-floor apartment in a different neighborhood, I imagined myself jumping from the building or a window. I also had suicidal thoughts while at work. 

At times, I would watch pornography in an attempt to “force my sexuality.” I found a pornographic actress named Leigh Darby. She was from the UK and reminded me somewhat of Ava, particularly in a scene where she was with a young, slim, white man who looked more like a boy than a man. 

I gave my bicycle to my father, as I hadn’t used it in years. 

I continued writing this book, and one day, my fingers began to ache from the extensive typing. 

September 

On September 1st, I came down with a cold. My thoughts were consumed by Ava. I longed to see her, but simultaneously, I was haunted by my troubled past and the fear that she would despise me if she knew everything. I even felt a physical ache in my abdomen as I thought about her. Despite feeling ill, the idea of seeing her again excited me. I checked her WhatsApp status, something I hadn’t done in a while, and saw a picture of a boat at sea. I then uploaded my own status, making sure she could see it.

Later, Ava posted a new status, a picture of herself smiling. I interpreted this as a sign that she might want to see me again. Eventually, I saw that she had viewed my status. This gave me a bittersweet feeling. I longed to see her, but I also remembered how I used to see her as someone who attracted trouble. 

I scheduled a session with Dr. Lucy for September 3rd. During our meeting, we discussed my relationship with Ava. Dr. Lucy suggested that I could contact Ava if I wished, but cautioned me against having unrealistic expectations. 

After my therapy session, I sent Ava a message. I told her that I would like to see her, but also that I was still recovering from psychosis and didn’t want to burden her with that. I also mentioned that I had previously seen her as someone who attracted problems. 

The following day, Ava replied, telling me that she didn’t want any kind of relationship with me. I responded by saying that it was probably for the best. I felt a familiar pain in my stomach. That same day, I tested positive for COVID-19 again. 

I completed the unedited English version of this book in the early hours of September 23, 2024. The manuscript reached 215 pages in Word, containing 106,993 words. 

After consulting a very talented editor for this book I finally uploaded the final version on my website, atlimbo.com, on 04/21/2025 @3:00 p.m. CET. There were 383 pages containing 102,858 words. 

During the writing process, I primarily listened to Ibiza Sensations—house music mixes by Spanish DJ, Luis Del Villar.

Over time, I recovered from the psychosis. My sleep schedule normalized, and I began to experience a renewed enjoyment of life. I also realized that I could live this fulfilling life without marijuana. I didn’t want to die like I used to.

I sent this book to Dr. Lucy and she gave me a lot of positive remarks. 

I sent this book to Mark Braun and he never responded.

I also sent this book to one of the BOI members named Rex Owens and he also never responded.

I sent this book to Barby Jo and he said that it was a great book.

Sandy was also pleased to read this book and she told me I should publish it.

I continued working at the Coca-Cola warehouse. My daily routine still included smoking a pack of cigarettes and drinking Coca-Cola. I upgraded to a newer and better used car. I also continued my habit of clicking on the “x” buttons on online ads and accepting cookies. 

I made the decision not to marry or have children. However, I let the destiny choose what would be the outcome considering that topic. 

I kept a low profile and avoided trouble. My thoughts still drifted to the idea of Heaven on Earth. I considered the possibility of being in a sort of limbo, like the character in the movie Inception. I often imagined how wonderful it would be if the 144,000 people I believed were real could somehow bring about Heaven on Earth. 

In 2024, I had a vivid fantasy about the 144,000 of us ascending to Heaven in a spaceship. This image was intertwined with a strange, almost mythical saying: “I leave for heaven in a nice new ship, hurry!” which, when reversed, supposedly says, “You’re officially dead and a necrophiliac.” In my imagination, Mark Braun would miraculously conjure a massive spaceship and lead us all out of this perceived matrix. 

My vision of this spaceship also included the idea that it would be invisible to anyone outside of the 144,000 “real” people and Mark Braun. This reminded me of a scene in the 2002 movie I Spy with Eddie Murphy and Owen Wilson, where they discover an invisible plane (a scene which occurs around the 1 hour, 11 minute, and 31 second mark of the film). 

A few years later, I was still living this seemingly mundane life, but I had learned to appreciate it more. I had a car, went to work, attended weddings and other celebrations, enjoyed walks, started to run and exercise again, and participated in the normal routines of everyday life. 

I stopped bothering Mark Braun with my emails, which often contained questions about the number of Blood Over Intent members. I realized it was a futile effort, as it was impossible to track down and count every single Blood Over Intent video. 

One day in the 21st century, the 144,000th person joined the ranks of Blood Over Intent. 

The addition of the 144,000th member to Blood Over Intent didn’t elicit any particular excitement from me. I simply finished my work shift and went home as usual. Arriving home around 3 a.m., I immediately checked YouTube, but Mark Braun hadn’t uploaded a new video, and nothing extraordinary had occurred. I then remembered something about needing to pay for a trip to the North Pole, so the next day I bought a lottery ticket. Unsurprisingly, I didn’t win anything, and nothing magical happened. 

I went to work, finished another shift, and returned home. This time, Mark Braun had uploaded a new video. It appeared to be filmed in the direction of Everglades National Park, and in the background, a giant UFO was visible.

In the video, Mark Braun was saying, “This is some mythical shit, I’m telling you that I’m taking over this world, and nobody can stop me!” I took this as a significant sign, believing that this was finally it. 

The next morning, my mom woke me up and led me to the living room to watch television. The entire world was watching as a UFO hovered over New York City.

I immediately knew it was Mark Braun’s doing.

The appearance of the UFO over New York City was a global event, akin to the events of September 11th, 2001, in its widespread impact and the way it captured the world’s attention. Everyone was witnessing what was happening. Live news broadcasts showed panicked crowds running through the streets of New York City. A news reporter explained that the UFO had initially been sighted over Miami, Florida. I assumed these were all NPCs, oblivious to the fact that we would soon be in Heaven. Even my mother was panicking, fearing some kind of alien invasion. 

While all this was happening, I smiled, which prompted my mother to ask how I could possibly feel that way at such a moment. I simply told her that she would eventually understand the reason behind everything. The live news broadcast then showed the center of the UFO emitting a bright light, and it was clearly visible that people were slowly being lifted into the craft. I eagerly awaited the UFO’s arrival in Croatia. 

The news broadcast showed the UFO slowly departing from New York City. The program then cut to news anchors who announced they would soon be reporting live from Washington D.C. A journalist was then shown standing in front of the White House, stating that the President of the United States was about to make a public statement. 

The President appeared on television, declaring a state of emergency and announcing that the U.S. military would attempt to shoot down the UFO. Shortly after, fighter jets were scrambled and headed towards New York. I was ecstatic and laughed at the “zombies,” as I perceived them. My mother, however, crossed herself and became angry with me.

Moments later, fighter jets were shown engaging the UFO, firing missiles at it. Just like in the 1996 movie Independence Day, the UFO was protected by a shield, and the missiles had no effect. The fighter jets then swarmed around the UFO like mosquitoes, attempting to attack it from below, but again, the UFO remained unscathed. 

A state of emergency was declared worldwide. While I watched the Croatian news, the president gave a bland speech urging everyone to remain calm and assuring them that the situation would be resolved. Meanwhile, riots erupted in the streets, and widespread panic took hold. 

As I continued watching the news, something incredible happened. Mark Braun appeared live on television, surrounded by Venus, The Angel of Death, and several other people. He was inside the UFO, seemingly controlling it, and his image was being broadcast worldwide. He announced that this was not an alien invasion and that he was taking over the world permanently. It was like watching one of his Quasiluminous videos. He declared that everyone else was a lifeless zombie and that he would soon gather the 144,000 “real” people and take them out of this world. 

I stepped out onto the balcony to light a cigarette. I felt a sense of satisfaction, similar to the feeling after good sex. The city was filled with the sound of emergency sirens, and I could see confused people running in every direction. After finishing my cigarette, I went back inside to watch the news. Television had never been so captivating. 

I waited patiently for the UFO to arrive in my area. I was too excited to sleep or eat. I remained glued to the television, watching as the UFO left the U.S. and traveled to Central and South America. After gathering all the Blood Over Intent members from those continents, it headed towards Africa. The following day, live news showed the UFO flying at high speed over the Atlantic Ocean, being tracked by military fighter jets. This time, the fighters didn’t attempt to attack the UFO with missiles; they simply followed it. 

The television broadcast showed the UFO cruising at Mach 2.3 (1,540 mph), with the fighter jets still in pursuit. Suddenly, Mark Braun hijacked the broadcast, appearing live on every channel. He laughed in his own peculiar way as he addressed the world. The news feed then showed the UFO beginning to accelerate, leaving the fighter jets far behind. It continued to gain speed, faster and faster, until it finally disappeared over the Atlantic Ocean, en route to Africa. 

By afternoon, the UFO had reached South Africa. By evening, it was continuing its journey north along the African continent. 

The next morning, the UFO was over Spain, continuing its mission of gathering people. Its journey took it across Western Europe, Scandinavia, and Central Europe, finally arriving in Croatia the following morning. News reports showed it hovering over Zagreb, and I wondered how many Croatians were among the chosen 144,000. After picking up a few people there, it headed south towards Split. By noon, it was over Split, and I was ready to be taken aboard. I reassured my mother that everything would be alright. We went outside together, and I could clearly see the UFO hovering above the city.

The UFO was positioned directly above the center of Split, approximately 600 feet above the ground. It was enormous, its size equivalent to five large neighborhoods. I could see people ascending into the air, towards the UFO. It seemed that there were indeed some Croats among the 144,000, people who, like me, had been part of Blood Over Intent. After picking them up, the UFO began to drift towards my neighborhood. I was delirious with excitement, jumping up and down. Even my mother was smiling now, and I thought she had finally found inner peace. The UFO positioned itself directly above us, and I could see its underside opening. I looked at my mother, and she began to cry. I turned towards the UFO, spread my arms wide, and began to ascend. I was flying for the first time in my life. 

“Yes, yes, YES!!!” I shouted, clenching my fists. As I flew towards the UFO, I glanced down and saw my neighbors filming the scene with their cell phones. Looking up, I could see people leaning against a railing inside the UFO, watching us below. I finally reached their level, and everyone cheered and applauded. I then flew sideways and was finally on board. I began hugging everyone, discovering that some Croats were already there. Suddenly, Mark Braun’s voice boomed over the intercom, “Let’s all welcome ‘one of 144,000’, Blood Over Intent member #5,483!” 

“Thank you, Satan!” I exclaimed, and everyone around me laughed. I took in my surroundings. It was a massive UFO, packed with thousands of people. I realized I was the 5,483rd person to have performed the Blood Over Intent ritual, but I was only about the 80,000th person to actually board a UFO. The interior of the ship was structured like a stadium, rising in tiers from the center outwards.

It had a large, four-sided screen in the center, just like the ones in indoor stadiums.

The four-sided screen in the center displayed a variety of information: live news broadcasts about the UFO, statistics on the number of Blood Over Intent members who had boarded, and live feeds of the outside world. 

I was told that Mark Braun was in the control room at the very top of the UFO, piloting the craft. Our mission, I learned, was to gather all 144,000 people from around the world and transport them to the North Pole. We first headed south towards Dubrovnik to pick up a few more Blood Over Intent members. I, along with many others, greeted them as they came aboard. We continued our journey southward. Some people documented the entire experience on their phones, uploading videos to YouTube. Some even live-streamed the whole thing. We glided through the air, visiting numerous countries along the way. The UFO continued to fill up with people as we gathered more and more members. We passed over Greece and then headed towards Asia. I was having a great time flying and welcoming the new arrivals on board. After covering the Middle East and Russia, we flew to China and Southeast Asia, gathering even more people. 

It was nighttime, and we could see the illuminated cities below us. We picked up a girl from Singapore whose videos I had watched online. Then we flew to Japan and hovered over Tokyo. It was a vast city, a sea of lights. We picked up hundreds of people there. 

(This image shows the trajectory of a UFO.) 

After visiting Australia and Micronesia to select the 144,000th person, the entire UFO crew became elated. Mark Braun let out his signature laugh over the intercom. 

Following that, we set course for the North Pole. 

As we flew along the international date line, nearing our final destination, daylight filled the sky, and the ocean beneath us was clearly visible. Jet fighters continued to follow us, and this was being shown on a live broadcast. We maintained pace with them, but eventually, we lost them. We flew over the Arctic ice, bathed in sunlight, and I felt an incredible sense of peace, shared by everyone on board. After some time, the UFO’s screen displayed something Mark Braun had spoken about years ago—Mount Meru, surrounded by hills with four rivers flowing into it. The area around the mountain was lush with forests and grass, all encased in ice. The entire audience erupted into cheers and applause. 

We had ceased flying and were now hovering just a few feet above the vast prairie grassland at the base of the mountain. Mark Braun appeared on the large screen and declared, “No one enters the house of living water before me.” The crowd erupted into cheers. The UFO then landed, and the 20 side doors opened. Famous Blood over intent members emerged from the UFO’s control room – Mark Braun, Venus, and The Angel of Death allowing us to see them clearly. It was a rare and significant moment, especially for us to witness the individuals who had brought us here, with Mark Braun at the forefront.

He stepped into a glass elevator and descended to the bottom of the UFO. As soon as he exited the elevator, the entire crowd erupted in unison, chanting, “MARK BRAUN, MARK BRAUN, MARK BRAUN!” He walked towards one of the gates, with the crowd trailing behind him. He then left the UFO, and part of the crowd followed him outside. 

At that moment, I was with the Croats, and it was our turn to leave the UFO. We made our way toward one of the gates, while the rest of the group quietly exited through the other door. 

At that time, 144,000 of us were settled on a vast grassy prairie.

Mark Braun was somewhere in the distance, but then he made his way toward Mount Meru, and we all followed him. After a 20-minute walk, we reached the base of the mountain. There, we found a large circular lake, about 12 miles across. It was so vast that after two hours, we had formed a ring around it, with all 144,000 of us standing close to the water, able to see each other clearly. The lake’s water was crystal clear, and the sandy bottom sloped gradually down to a depth of about 5 feet. Mark Braun began to speak, and his voice was so clear it felt as though he was standing right beside us. He said, “How are you? Thanks for joining me. We’ve finally arrived at our final destination—the center of the Flat Earth. These are the Holy waters. They are incredibly refreshing and drinkable. Let me enter first, and then each of you may do the same.” 

Mark Braun walked into the lake, and we all watched eagerly. He waded in up to his waist, scooped up some water, drank it, and then laughed in his unique way. We all watched in excitement, and then he shouted, “COME IN, motherfuckers!!!” Some of us slowly walked in, while others ran or dove into the water, and soon, everyone was immersed in the holy water. As I stood there with a few Croats, drinking the holy water, it hit me: we could do anything we wanted. I say “we” because, for the first time, I felt a form of telepathy. There was no magical light, no electricity—just a deep sense of peace and joy. It was as if all the barriers had lifted, and we were free to do whatever we wished. We all laughed, and some of us cried tears of happiness. 

I noticed that my clothes were gone and I was swimming naked. Some of us felt the urge to leave the lake and stand on the shore. I was completely naked with some of the 144,000 on the shore and I wasn’t ashamed at all. I’ve never been so happy. 

The Family Guy bit about the Fountain of Youth was actually spot on.

We all laughed, struggling to express the overwhelming joy we felt. We hugged each other, and I was struck by how beautiful everyone looked naked. It reminded me of Nugal beach in Makarska, and my realization there that no one can truly be considered ugly when naked. 

We finally left the lake and reached the shore. I found myself among a group of nude people, and I felt a strange sense of familiarity with them, as if we’d known each other for ages. As we stood there, the conversation died down. Then, we all witnessed the bizarre sight of a naked Mark Braun flying out over the lake’s center. He hovered there and announced, “Remember in my videos when I talked about the people from the middle of the Flat Earth, and how friendly they were, they’re like “buddy”? Well, they come here to give us presents.” 

We looked around and saw countless naked figures flying towards us, rather than walking. They landed around the lake, and a peaceful silence settled over us, bringing smiles to our faces. Mark Braun then declared, “They have no leader; they’re all equal. But I’ll speak for them. They’ve brought seeds for replanting the giant trees. Each of us will receive one seed, return to Hell, and plant it.” Moments later, some of these figures approached us, speaking their first words: “How are ya? Thanks for joining me.” They smiled, and I chuckled at the familiar phrase. Suddenly, out of nowhere, they produced large, brown seeds, each about the size of a fist. We were each instructed to return to Earth and plant our seed wherever we chose. This, it was said, was how we would finally bring about the long-awaited Heaven on Earth.

I sensed telepathically that we all shared the same plan for planting the seeds. After receiving our seeds, we thanked the beings. Little communication was needed. Each of us, seed in hand, ascended into the air. I hovered above the ground, as if flying was second nature. I was filled with elation. 

Mark Braun led the way, flying back to Florida, followed by the others. Then it was my turn. I flew back to Croatia with some fellow Croatians. We flew naked over the Arctic, yet felt no cold. It was as if we could control our perception of temperature. Looking around, I saw all 144,000 of us flying towards our individual destinations. We formed a widening concentric circle that spread across the world. Eventually, the circle became so large we lost sight of each other. I found myself with a group of Croats and other Europeans. We chatted pleasantly, eagerly anticipating our arrival home. We even discussed how amazing it would be to have the power of invisibility. 

We then wished for invisibility, and it happened. I could no longer see them, nor my own body, but I knew they were there. Our seeds had also become invisible. We ascended to an altitude of six miles, traveling at approximately 60 mph. Deciding to increase our speed, we accelerated to Mach 1, or 800 mph. Despite the incredible speed, we felt no air resistance and remained comfortable. We flew over Norway, Germany, Austria, and Slovenia before arriving over Croatia. We decided to visit our respective hometowns. 

Some headed for Zagreb, while others went to Split and Dubrovnik. It took us only five minutes to reach Split, while the others continued on to Dubrovnik.

We hovered over Split and then descended to the mountain north of the city. The five of us, still naked, found ourselves in the secluded forest, unseen by anyone. We discussed distributing the five seeds throughout the Split-Dalmatia County. For some reason, everyone remembered that I had grown grass in this very forest. They honored me with the task of planting my seed there, for which I was grateful. As I walked through the woods, searching for the perfect spot, the uneven ground felt surprisingly comfortable under my bare feet, much like walking on grass. I arrived at the exact place where I had grown the grass and found a suitable area. To my surprise, some of the soil I had discarded while clearing the area of pots and other debris remained. 

That soil, from my planting pots, was still there. I dug a small hole, placed the seed inside, and covered it with the soil. Seeing what I had done, the others became invisible and flew off to their designated locations. I also became invisible and followed the girl from Split. We flew over the mountain peak, overlooking Split below. We headed towards the peninsula and landed in a secluded part of the forest, where we became visible again. She dug a small hole and buried her seed. Like most of the 144,000, we shared a plan: to simply will ourselves clothed by thought, return home, and witness the world transformed for the better. Our newfound powers had turned us into playful tricksters. 

For me, this meant I wished to be wearing a suit, and she, a beautiful dress. We then flew out of the forest on the peninsula and headed back to our respective neighborhoods. We flew over the forest and reached the city, passing over Split’s center and then along the coast. People noticed us and began recording with their phones. We laughed and quickly flew away, parting ways. She went to her apartment in central Split, and I continued to my neighborhood in the direction of the suburbs. Flying over the city, watching the cars and people below, was an exhilarating feeling. I reached my neighborhood and began a slow descent toward the spot where I had been picked up by a UFO just days before. A man walking his dog noticed me when I was about 20 feet above the ground. His jaw dropped, and he began filming me with his phone. I laughed and, as I descended further, I said to him, “Yes, friend, film this!” I landed, and the dog began barking. I wished it would stop, and it did, then came over to sniff me. 

The man, still filming with his phone and his jaw still dropped, pointed the camera at the ground and asked how I did it. I replied, “What? Make your dog stop barking?” He laughed and said, “You’re a funny guy. But how could you fly?” I smiled, told him he’d understand eventually, and went into my building. 

I entered my building and started toward the elevator, but then changed my mind. Instead of taking the elevator, I decided to fly in the open space between the stairwell and the elevator shaft. I had complete control. No one was around, and I didn’t want to frighten any elderly residents. I was concerned they might have a heart attack, but then it occurred to me: even if they did, I could revive them. 

I ascended again and flew up to my floor. I rang the doorbell, knowing my mom wasn’t at work. She opened the door, looking both worried and happy. She asked where I’d been. I told her I’d gone to the center of the Flat Earth and was bringing Heaven to Earth. She laughed and told me not to joke with her. I said she’d understand eventually and walked into the apartment. She asked about the UFO and what was happening, so I explained everything again, telling her about the lake where we drank the living water and how we gained the ability to fly. 

I told her someone had filmed me and that I’d probably end up in the local news and online. I asked her to make me coffee, which she did, though she was confused. I sat down in the living room, lit a cigarette, turned on the TV, and told her to watch. The news was full of reports of people flying all over the world. Some were naked, others clothed. Some of the naked fliers were shown being chased by police, only to then fly away, laughing at their pursuers. 

The news channels, pathetically, blurred the naked fliers’ private parts, as if they should be ashamed. My mom watched everything, her jaw agape, and then asked me who I was. I jokingly told her I was a living person and that I came from the Source, but she still didn’t understand. She continued watching TV to get some answers, while I sat there, smoking one of the best cigarettes I’d ever had. 

Then she said that God must have been responsible for all of this, and I agreed. I told her that soon we would all become like gods, at which point she accused me of blasphemy. 

I pulled out my phone and checked the local newspaper’s website. A sensational headline screamed, “People seen FLYING over Split!!” I found the video of myself and laughed uncontrollably. I showed it to my mom, and she asked, “Is that YOU?” I smiled and said yes. She asked if I could fly next to her, and I stood beside her and said, “Look.” I slowly levitated off the floor, and she instantly became excited, laughing and clapping her hands. She crossed herself and began to cry. She asked me what was happening, and I told her that Heaven on Earth was beginning. I went out to my balcony and, as if by magic, a perfectly rolled joint appeared. I lit it and smoked that delicious doobie. 

I got high while my mom watched, then told her I had to go. Smiling, she said, “I don’t care, go wherever you want.” I flew off the balcony, and she waved goodbye. I waved back, already making plans. I flew to Zagreb, to the national TV station. It was midday news time, and I flew into the building, knowing instinctively where to go. I reached the news studio. The security guards tried to stop me, but I simply willed them to stay put, and they did. I saw a news anchor reporting on the flying people phenomenon, live on air. I walked over to her desk and sat down beside her. The producers tried to cut to commercial, but I mentally overruled them. Still live on TV, I told everyone that Heaven on Earth was coming very soon. 

The news anchor sat silently beside me, at a loss for words. Soon, some of my Croatian friends joined us and appeared live on air as well. A few of them were naked, declaring to everyone that only insane people wear clothes. I agreed, saying, “That’s true,” and quickly stripped off my clothes too. We were all in such an euphoric state, feeling blissfully carefree. Despite this, we remained in complete control of our thoughts and desires, not to mention our ability to influence other NPCs (“real” people) and technology around us. 

We exited the building, and I flew back to Split in an instant. Within those few seconds, I realized I had the ability to teleport anywhere I desired. I thought about being dressed in a suit again, and just like that, I was. 

I arrived at the Riva, the seaside promenade in Split’s center. At that moment, an earthquake started. I experienced a moment of fear, but then I knew instinctively that enormous trees were suddenly growing at an accelerated pace. While some around me were in a panic, yelling and screaming, I ascended into the air and observed one colossal tree sprouting from the peninsula and another from the mountains to Split’s north. This area had finally acquired a touch of magic. The earthquake caused no structural damage. 

The earthquake went on for several minutes, and the trees grew quickly, extending many miles upward. After a short while, the earthquake ceased as the trees reached approximately 12 miles high and stopped growing. Sirens echoed across the city. People gathered in groups, with many recording the trees. I climbed to the top of the trees and saw numerous other tall trees in different cities along the coast. 

What astonished me the most was when I looked to the north. There, far in the distance, I spotted a tree so towering that it appeared tall even from that far away. It was the Tree of Life. 

The magic continued when I touched the ground. Football-sized orbs flew from trees all around the area. These were the souls of people. They soared quickly, each one entering its respective person. I noticed people starting to float above the ground. I flew to a hospital in Split, and upon entering, I saw patients celebrating because their illnesses had vanished. I visited a psychiatric clinic, where everyone was cheering. 

There were no longer any “crazy people.” I went to the operating room and saw a man who had been cut open and injured by doctors to save his life. The anesthesia had stopped working, yet he was fully awake, despite his open wounds. He cheered along with the doctors. 

I left the building and realized that everyone somehow knew a new era was arriving. No one had taught them this or prepared them for the moment. It was as if these trees had already transformed everyone into a superhero. I saw many more people floating above the ground. One man was floating in a wheelchair, joking about it because he no longer actually needed it. 

I felt content. 

Another earthquake began, but nothing collapsed, and everyone knew it was the trees. I flew back home because I understood what was coming next. My mom was still on a video call with my dad, and she was so excited. I told them both, “Let’s go.” Dad nodded and ended the call. My mom and I began flying toward the North Pole, along with thousands of other people around us. Even children and the elderly were flying with us. Young children were flying with their families, and I knew they understood everything there was to know. Local cats, dogs, and many other animals from Split and the surrounding areas were flying too! 

We passed a mountain to the north of Split, and among the thousands of others flying north, we were joined by my extended family from Split and the suburbs. We all laughed together. As we continued north and flew over Zagreb, my dad, Uncle Benny, Sandy, and Dr. Lucy, along with their families, joined us. We flew faster and faster, savoring every moment. When we arrived in Denmark, my sister joined us. Within minutes, we were all in the Arctic Circle. The Tree of Life grew larger and larger, and everyone was filled with awe. 

As we neared Mount Meru, where the Tree of Life grew, a vast crowd could be seen flying toward it from all corners of the world. More than eight billion people were about to gather in one place.

We all landed on a vast grassy plain, and the crowd could be heard cheering and clapping. I reunited with Lenny, Danny, Stacey, Ava, my high school classmates, Roman soldiers, and nearly everyone mentioned in this book. We all embraced and laughed. 

Then, we made our way toward the large circular lake. Some people were already there, swimming and flying around it. The crowd seemed to have a sense of order. No one rushed to get ahead of the others, and no one felt left behind. 

The group from my book and I were given the chance to enter the lake. We all did, drank the holy water, and when we emerged from the lake, we were truly naked. No one felt ashamed of it. 

After a while, each person and animal spent some time in the lake, and after that, Mount Meru began to glow with purple and green lights. The glow increased, and then the light beam began to radiate from the ground, while Mount Meru disappeared in the lights. We all started flying inward. 

We flew through a tunnel made of light, and then we arrived on the other side of the Earth. It was difficult to describe the feeling when we landed and saw about 150 billion people waiting for us on the ground. We met everyone who had died on Earth, and everyone was happy, smiling, and of course – naked. I spotted Henry and immediately ran to hug him. He looked just as I remembered him when he died, and it was his choice to appear that way so we from Earth could better understand it.

In this realm, anyone could appear however they wished. After hugging everyone in my family and shedding a few tears, my brother transformed into a 30-year-old man. We all stood in awe, and then he said, “You can do it too! It’s called avatar.” My family then transformed into a group of 30-year-olds, and I could recognize each and every one of them. 

I lit a cigarette out of nowhere and tried to take in the full magnificence of the situation. I managed to control my urge to smoke and decided that, for the time being, I would be a smoker. 

We were in a world filled with towering trees, and the afternoon sun shone from the center of this new reality. The Tree of Life and Mount Meru were still there. It felt like an endless Saturday. 

After spending some time together, I wanted to find Ava. I flew off and eventually found her with her family. She was still in her 50-year-old avatar, surrounded by her living family and deceased parents. After telling her family that she needed to say hello to her friend, she turned to me. She greeted me with a “Hey” in her own unique way. I reminded her to remember my WhatsApp status about meeting in a better world. We laughed and hugged, and she was glowing. 

I went to meet Stacey, and she was with her mom and dad. Stacey glowed just like she did the first time we were together on Earth. I spent some time with them before heading to meet “Team Zagreb,” which meant visiting Sandy and Dr. Lucy. These important figures in my life were with their families. Sandy was with her son and deceased husband, and Dr. Lucy was with her family. When they saw me, they rushed over, and we all hugged in a group. We had made it—we had endured Hell. 

I returned to my family and waited for what would happen next. Mark Braun rose into the air, and everyone could see him clearly. He began to speak, and his voice echoed through the crowd. He started with, “Hello everyone, I know you’re all still a little shaken, but this is what you came for. This is heaven on earth. This is the same realm we came from, only now it’s filled with giant trees, rivers, lakes, waterfalls, forests, prairies, mountains, and more. You can choose to return to the old world if you wish, as you now have the power to create with your thoughts. You will still experience fear, pain, and boredom, but you can control them and decide not to feel them if you don’t feel like it. Pun intended.” 

Everyone laughed. 

Mark Braun continued, “Please, all of the 144,000 come here and join me.” The other 144,000 and I ascended to join Mark Braun. We were floating in the air, able to see everything, and everyone could see us. Then, 150 billion people began clapping, cheering, and whistling. People were spread out all the way to the horizon, as far as the eye could see. 

Mark Braun said, “We are not special in any way. We just received that divine spark before entering Hell. Each of you would do the same if you were in our place. In fact, you have already done it infinitely many times because existence itself is infinite. Thank you.” 

One person in the crowd shouted, “No, thank you, at least this time.” We all clapped, and then we landed to join the others. 

I knew what was coming next. I was going to spend some time here, living my best life possible. I understood that one day I would find myself in Hell again, because existence is so vast, but it didn’t bother me. I knew that no matter what I faced, I would always land on my feet. 

I joined my family and realized that I wasn’t hungry, sleepy, or scared. However, if I wanted to eat, sleep, or experience peace, I had that choice. Someone asked me what I wanted to do, and I said I needed some time for myself, as much as I loved meeting Mark Braun, Venus, The Angel of Death, and spending time with Stacey and Ava, among others. Everyone showed respect for my need for solitude and allowed me to go wherever I wished. 

I teleported to the gay beaches near where I had been that day before work in the summer of 2019, and found myself alone there on a sunny midday. However, I wasn’t truly alone. I was surrounded by hundreds of crickets, singing their song in the pine trees. I sat on a rock by the sea, looking out at Stobreč on one side and Split on the other. Now, they were empty cities, and I was truly alone in this new old realm. It was hot, but I knew I didn’t have to get sunburned if I didn’t want to. I knew I could modify the beach to make it sandy, but I chose not to. I also knew I could invite anyone I wanted here, but I decided not to. 

Even though I had just come from heaven, my ultimate goal of existence, I still needed solitude to collect myself. It wasn’t a bad thing; it was just part of the life process. I took my time to slowly absorb the new possibilities within my existence. I got used to new thought processes that involved absolute control over everything I could imagine. When things became overwhelming, I wished for relief and instantly felt it. I could feel inner peace whenever I desired it. 

I wanted my old bag to appear in front of me, and it happened. I reached inside and pulled out a bag of fine weed, a cigarette, and rolling papers with filters. I made the wind stop blowing, so I could calmly roll the joint. The sea was still, with no sign of waves. 

However, the crickets continued their eternal song. I created a small Bluetooth speaker and began playing “Shine On You Crazy Diamond” by Pink Floyd. I didn’t need a smartphone to connect it to the speaker—I broadcasted the song directly from my mind. 

I tore off a piece of rolling paper and placed it on a small crack in the rock to keep it in place. I took a filter paper and made a filter for my joint. Then, I grabbed a cigarette and placed some tobacco on the rolling paper. I took the weed I had grown on a mountain north of Split and ground it with my fingers, sprinkling it evenly over the tobacco. I finished by adding another thin layer of tobacco. I gathered everything, rolled it up, licked the glue, and sealed the joint.

I wished for the breeze to start blowing, and it happened. I created a lighter, lit the joint, and took my first breath of freedom. There was no one to annoy me or arrest me for smoking weed. I smiled, like Max Payne at the end of the game of the same name. It was truly a winner’s smile.

The Pink Floyd chorus began, and I sang loudly, “Shineee onnn you craaazy diamond!” I was glowing and able to sing. The joint burned endlessly, releasing sensual smoke that was carried by the wind. Slowly but surely, I began to feel high. I knew it didn’t matter if I was on drugs or getting drunk—I could completely control my experience. I could feel like I was doing it for the first or last time ever, every time, if I wanted to. 

I started playing “The Doors – Light My Fire”. I decided that the joint was coming to an end. I wasn’t desperately trying to smoke every last bit of it. I even left some of the joint and tossed it into the sea. I didn’t pollute, knowing that I might one day want a clean environment if I ever found myself in a dirty one.

I got up and created an electric guitar, playing the part of the song that starts at 3:12. I had always known how to play the electric guitar, and I was as high as I used to be in the old days. I made the guitar disappear and waded into the sea. The temperature was just right because I had willed it to be so. I wasn’t afraid of sharp rocks or sea urchins, because there were none. The bottom of the sea was made of smooth pebbles. I started swimming, diving deep into the water and holding my breath forever. The sea was free of wild animals, but I liked it that way. After a while, I returned to the surface and left the sea. I was already tanned, but not sunburned. 

I played “Dire Straits – Sultans of Swing” and sat on a warm rock to smoke a cigarette. 

I chose to fulfill one of my long-held desires: I wanted my penis to be a “shower.” Instantly, it transformed into a well-proportioned, nicely hanging cock. At the same time, I gained the ability to make it appear as anything from a micropenis to an enormous size. The decision was entirely mine. I felt no shame, but I could embrace that feeling if I wished. 

I rolled a joint and began smoking it. The aroma of weed, in my opinion, was unmatched by many other scents. As I smoked, I found myself wondering where everyone was. A sudden longing for companionship washed over me. Remembering my telepathic abilities, I decided to reach out to Stacey, Ava, and Amber. In my mind, I thought, 

“Stacey, Ava, and Amber, can you hear me?” They responded with a clear “Yes, we hear you,” their voices echoing in my head as if we were on a call. 

They sounded like lifelong best friends, full of joy, and mentioned they were spending time in Heaven with their families. When I asked if they’d like to join me in my reality, they appeared beside me instantly.

I stood up, and we all embraced in a group. There were none of the typical questions like “How are you? How was your day?” because I knew they were fine, and they knew I was too. I offered them my joint, and Stacey was the first to take a few puffs. She passed it to Ava, who did the same. Then Amber told Ava to blow the smoke into her mouth. Afterward, Amber took a hit herself. I put my joint away, and Ava told me the weed was great. Then Ava asked me the usual question that came up in this kind of existence: “What do you want to do?” 

I joked with them, saying I’d been on drugs and listening to rock ‘n’ roll, and asked what they had in mind next. At the same time, all three of them answered, “Sex!” I wanted them all right then, but for some reason, I had to dig deep to find my sexual drive. A fear started creeping in that I might be “locked up” forever. I voiced that I wasn’t as horny as I used to be. Although I had an answer to my worries, I let Ava break my train of thought when she said, “Relax, let’s swim first.” 

I led the way into the sea, swimming a bit further before turning around to enjoy the sight of the three most attractive women I had known up to that point entering the water. I wanted to see them fully as they entered the sea. Stacey was in the center, with Ava and Amber on either side of her. Stacey had fair skin, unlike Ava and Amber, who were tanned, and I liked the contrast. I also noticed their areoles shimmering in the midday sun, which seemed to stay fixed in the sky for the time being. They realized I was looking and started holding hands playfully, smiling as they did so.

They released each other’s hands and dove into the sea. They joined me, and I pretended to be clueless, asking Amber why my sex drive seemed “locked.” She explained that sex drive was one of the strongest instincts in humans and that I had been through so much that it was hard to shake it off. At that point, she played along to tease me, as the four of us knew well that I was, and always would be, an old horndog. 

I felt my cock grow in the sea and that feeling alone was slightly orgasmic. I let out a soft moan and murmured, “Thank you.” The three of them simply smiled and started making their way out of the sea. I remained floating in place, feeling my arousal beneath the water’s surface, firm and strong like a baseball bat. It was my usual size, yet it felt incredibly potent. The three of them settled on the beach, with Stacey in the center, and began gazing at me with smiles on their faces. I found myself relishing these moments of silent, telepathic connection. 

I began swimming in shallower waters and stood on the sea floor. As I started to leave the water, I was aware that my presence would make them more attracted to me. I knew how I appeared, and I felt good about it. 

As I moved through the waist-deep water, stepping closer, my arousal became visible to them, and their expressions shifted to stunned amazement mixed with a mild smile. It wasn’t the largest they might have ever seen, but it was undeniably revitalized, radiating a sense of readiness and power. They seemed to sense its potential, as if it were poised to fulfill its purpose with each of them.

I was on the beach and slowly began to approach Stacey. Her desire was palpable, a mix of eagerness and just a hint of nervousness visible on her face. As I lowered myself to my knees, she instinctively parted her legs. My arousal was firm, angled upward, and with my right hand, I guided it toward Stacey. As I entered her, we both exhaled a simultaneous “Yes.” I settled on top of her, our bodies connected, our minds intertwined. Though our past lingered in the background, our focus was on the present and what lay ahead. Words felt unnecessary; forgiveness and understanding flowed between us effortlessly, as if communicated through thought alone. Ava and Amber watched, propped on their hands, their smiles unwavering, witnessing the unspoken bond that unfolded before them. 

I told Stacey I adored her, and she replied that she adored me too. We all laughed. We began to make love tenderly, as if it were our first time together, which in a way, after so many years apart, it was. My movements were intense, yet gentle, and her moans, though sounding pained, expressed pure joy. We made love without a condom, both understanding that pregnancy and STIs were a matter of conscious choice for us. 

We persisted in our intimate activities. She appreciated my method of penetration, while I found pleasure in her receptiveness and the movement of her breasts. Eventually, a shared radiance seemed to emanate from our bodies. She emitted soft moans and contorted her upper body, causing her back to arch. Ava and Amber took hold of Stacey’s hands, with Ava offering words of encouragement: “Stay strong, girl.” 

The next thing I remember is that I started cumming inside Stacey while sounding like I was in a lot of pain. Stacey also started cumming while screaming, and her pussy was spraying her juices around my cock, somehow flushing some of my cum out of her. I hugged her tightly and kissed her tender neck. 

I told Stacey that even though we seemed to have a telepathic connection, I still needed to express my deep love for her. She quietly reciprocated, saying she loved me too, and I saw a tear of happiness in her eye. 

Afterward, I lay down between Ava and Amber to cuddle with Stacey. I created a cigarette and we all smoked it. 

The eternal midday sun made us sweat along with sex. Ava suggested that I put sunscreen on her for fun. We remembered the old days when we had to wear sunscreen in hell. I suggested that me, Stacey and Amber oil Ava. We sat on the beach and prepared a small bottle of oil. The three of us gathered around Ava, while I sat behind her, to oil her skin. I was trying to recreate our time in Kašuni, when I would sit behind her and hold her breasts. I applied oil to my hands and did just that, holding her close and massaging her while Stacey and Amber oiled her legs. As I kissed her neck, she purred contentedly and exclaimed, in her own unique way, “oh yes!”. 

As I continued oiling Ava’s back, I told her I deeply adored her. She asked me to stand up with her, which I did, and she then kissed me, reciprocating my feelings. Smiling, the four of us formed a circle and engaged in a group French kiss, our tongues and saliva mixing. Ava then began to gently masturbate me. We broke the kiss, and I asked her to lie down, which she did immediately, demonstrating her willingness to comply. I mirrored this by kneeling before her and gently spreading her legs. I then performed oral sex on her, using my fingers and mouth to pleasure her. Eventually, I entered her, and she moaned as she used to. Any previous performance anxiety was gone.

We just had sex while Amber sat behind Stacey, caressing her body and they were both watching us. 

I leaned against Ava and grabbed her by both hands. I told her to hold on, and she nodded with a pained look on her face. I pumped her, and she moaned in new ways. I remembered that time on Mljet in 2021 when I told her that I wanted her to feel something new and that we connect on a deeper level.  

These wishes have come true. I fucked her really well and she took it very well. I turned her over on her stomach and started fucking from behind. At first I enjoyed watching my pubic bone press against her ass, but then I hugged her from behind. I performed that maneuver in which I grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed her harder against me. She moaned to the point that she almost cried. Then she whined and said, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

The moment I kissed her neck tenderly, we experienced a simultaneous orgasm. None of us were aware she was capable of squirting. As I lifted myself slightly, she quickly rolled onto her back. We shared a passionate kiss, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes. 

I realized I loved Ava and Stacey equally, and that this was true love – a love without choosing or measuring. I decided to go for a swim, and Ava joined me.

As we swam, I noticed Amber and Stacey still gently touching and embracing each other. In that moment, a telepathic message from Amber reached me, reassuring and warm: “Don’t worry, my friend. You love me just as deeply as you love them.” Her words carried a sense of comfort and connection, reminding me of the bond we all shared. 

The other two could hear it since we were all connected telepathically, and they burst into laughter. Ava and I walked out of the sea hand in hand, and Stacey remarked, “Aw, how adorable is that?” I rediscovered my sex drive, and each time I had sex, it felt like an entirely new experience. I couldn’t get enough of it, and it was entirely my own decision. I settled onto a rock and called Amber over. She sat beside me and simply said, “Hi.” I explained to her that this time, she’d need to lie down on the rock, unlike our previous experiences at other spots on the gay beaches. 

I stood up, and the surface of the rock aligned perfectly with the height of my waist. That rock seemed tailor-made for pleasure—sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll. I mentioned the idea to Ava and Stacey, and they brought over some oil. We began applying it to Amber, who was already aroused from what she’d witnessed earlier. She settled onto the rock as the two of them smoothed the oil over her beautifully tanned body. I pretended to examine her feet for sea urchin injuries, and she noticed what I was doing. Meanwhile, Stacey and Ava started teasing her breasts with their tongues, and I focused my attention on her most intimate area. 

She let out her signature moan, and I loved the tone of her voice—it was unmistakably hers. She was the epitome of a stunning MILF. As I focused on her, locking eyes with her, she reached her limit and begged, “Please, put your cock inside me!” Feeling the intensity of the moment, I wished for a larger size, and to my surprise, my cock grew significantly—both in length and girth. What was once 6 inches in length became 9 inches, and the thickness increased from 6 inches to 7 inches. Amber, Ava, and Stacey all smirked, clearly impressed, and they playfully wished I had three of myself to go around.

In an instant, I created two clones of myself, and soon there were three of us standing on the beach near the rock. The three women—Amber, Ava, and Stacey—stared at us in stunned silence. I stood in the middle of my clones and exchanged fist bumps with them. Ava and Stacey got to their feet, each approaching one of my clones to pleasure them. They marveled at the size of the clones’ cocks, gripping them with both hands. I replicated the rock Amber was on twice, ensuring each woman had her own space. My clones began thrusting into Ava and Stacey, who moaned uncontrollably, completely consumed by the experience. Meanwhile, I positioned myself in front of Amber, pressing the tip of my enlarged cock against her entrance. 

Then I inserted it, and the experience resembled earlier times, but surpassed them. I engaged in intense sexual activity with her, fulfilling our mutual desire. The other two couples were also engaged in vigorous sexual activity, and the atmosphere was permeated with feminine exclamations such as “Oh my Gods,” “oh fucks,” and similar expressions. Concurrently, masculine groans resonated, creating a distinct counterpoint to the female vocalizations. Amber exclaimed “ya, yas, YEAH!!” 

She was too overwhelmed to speak, her pleasure rendering her silent. I thrust into her with intensity, savoring the sight of her tanned body and her breasts bouncing with each movement. Then, she released her juices, drenching me in her arousal. I smiled, unfazed, and kept going, driving her even further. Moments later, she squirted again, this time more forcefully, and I couldn’t resist tasting her sweet essence.

We had reached our limit. My clones turned into holograms and merged with me. I stood up while the three of them remained on their own rocks, watching me. Using telekinesis, I lifted them and brought them closer. They all embraced me, and I flew with them towards the forest above the beach. We settled in the shade, lying down on the ground, which felt softer than any towel or mattress. We stayed in silence and quickly drifted off to sleep. I didn’t have any dreams, just a sense of warmth and safety as I floated in the darkness. 

When we woke up, it was still noon. Suddenly, I rolled a joint and started smoking, without any worry about causing a forest fire. We passed it around and smoked it until it was gone. The weed didn’t have much effect, but I wasn’t concerned about that. I said, “I know we have telepathy and can share experiences, but I want to say something out loud. I’m really grateful to have you three here with me.” Ava responded, “I’m thankful for you too, and for Stacey and Amber.” Stacey added, “Now everything makes sense.” Amber finished, “I never knew existence could be this peaceful and simple.” 

I told them I would teleport back to Heaven and promised to see them there. They told me they were coming with me. 

We instantly entered Heaven and made our way to meet our families. After spending time with them, I finally felt ready to meet the legendary trio – Mark Braun, also known as Satan, Phoebe Rosa Castillo, also known as Venus, and Adam Rudseal, also known as The Angel of Death. I reached out to them telepathically, and they agreed to meet. We arranged to gather under the Tree of Life, and within seconds, we were all there.

I couldn’t help but smile when I saw them, and they were smiling just as much. We shook hands, following the old custom from Hell. Even though I already knew the answers to the questions I planned to ask, I still wanted to hear them spoken aloud. Mark greeted me with, “How are ya? Thanks for joining me,” and I couldn’t stop laughing, because that was one of my favorite things he always said. 

I began my conversation with Mark. 

•  “Why did we have to go to Hell?” 

•  “Curiosity.” 

•  “Are real people those who are not part of the 144,000?” 

•  “Absolutely not. They were copies of themselves, and their souls were constantly here, watching this shit on computer screens.” 

•  “So, no one was injured?” 

• The Angel of Death interrupted: 

• Only 144,000. The others were just robots, working for each other, killing each other, and so on.” 

• I asked, “Will we ever go back to Hell?” 

Venus replied, “Maybe not all in the same lineup as before, but as different people. People go to Hell because they get bored with Heaven. It might seem absurd, but the soul needs purification, and Hell is the only true way to do that.” 

The Angel of Death rolled a joint, and we shared it. 

I spent a considerable time in Heaven engaging in recreational activities, including gaming, drug use, rock and roll and music in general, and sexual experiences. I enjoyed myself. For instance, I encountered the cast of the television program “Friends,” and we traveled to New York City to converse and enjoy each other’s company. I, along with the characters Ross, Chandler, and Joey, engaged in sexual activity with Monica, Rachel, and Phoebe. I also met Clint Eastwood, and we spent time at his Los Angeles residence watching numerous films. Additionally, I have been playing the video game Call of Duty 2 Multiplayer for an extended, indefinite period. 

After countless more years, Hell existed only as a memory on the Tree of Life. I watched as some people went to Hell, becoming the new 144,000. We all observed that shit on our computer screens. My body was replicated in Hell, and I watched myself fighting in wars. 

Then, those 144,000 returned, their souls having been cleansed. I realized that existence is cyclical, and over time, some people’s fascination with Hell grows. 

I explored the endless land surrounding the Tree of Life. I confirmed that Proverbs 25:3 was true, as it stated, “No one can comprehend the height of the heavens, the depths of the earth, or everything that goes on in the heart of the king!” 

The more land I explored, the more seemed to unfold before me. I delved into the Akashic records and was able to relive my entire life while I was in Hell. I accessed memories from all my previous lives and could even glimpse the future. Both the past and the future stretched out infinitely, each in its own direction. 

I came close to an almost infinite number of situations from my existence. I witnessed the creation and destruction of existence itself. Existence was so vast that creation and destruction had occurred an infinite number of times and would continue to do so endlessly. 

In the end, I had to accept a certain amount of information. The sheer abundance of it almost drove me insane. I felt as though I was back in Hell, battling psychosis. I questioned whether returning to Hell to cleanse my soul would be so bad. Eventually, I did it, and once again, I was one of the 144,000, though I didn’t realize it at first. After about 50 years, I returned to Heaven and met a new group of people. My family and friends from a previous visit to Hell were long gone—not because they had died, but because new people had entered my existence. Still, I could always encounter them in my creations and within the Akashic records.

At one point, I forgot about Lenny, Danny, Stacey, Ava, Amber, Dr. Lucy, and my friends from high school. I could still access them in the Akashic records, but they were so far in the past that it would take me nearly an eternity to reach them. 

I found myself in Hell again, but this time, I spent “only 20 years” there. My time in Hell wasn’t as bad as before. Eventually, I returned to Heaven, and a completely new group of people surrounded me. I accepted them just as I had accepted the people from Hell before the previous visit. 

I think it’s been about 150,000,000,000 years since I began writing this book. It was hard to keep track of time while in carefree Heaven, and even more so when you lose track of your inner self in Hell. 

I was angry that there wasn’t a classic God in Heaven to protect you from evil. It was then that I realized the “Heavenly Crew” is your God when you’re in Hell. While you’re in Heaven, you become God because you “take care of the 144,000 and other copies in Hell.” After all, you’re watching that shit on your computer screen. 

Existence was vast and, at times, incredibly boring. We will never fully know our true creator, and there will always be some mystery surrounding existence. Perhaps we humans were the creators. Yet, there was still some kind of God or force that protected me while I was in Hell when I began writing this book. 

I tried to relax and enjoy Heaven. I took drugs, had sex, and played games.

After an immense period of time there, I chose to return to Hell. It was a voluntary decision. I found myself among entirely unfamiliar individuals. Subsequently, I ascended to Heaven once more. I then abandoned the writing of this book. The human mind can only grasp a limited quantity of zeros. And that is for the best. 

The version of Hell depicted in this book, spanning from 1994 to 2024 and beyond, proved to be exceptionally challenging for me. I even consulted the Akashic records and found no comparable period of such difficulty. 

Even though I wasn’t all-knowing or everywhere at once, I still found my sense of peace between Heaven and Hell. 

I came to terms with the idea that one day, I would repeat it all. 

I was truly – @Limbo.