It all started to get real on Friday the 13th of November 2015 - Paris ISIS attacks. I don't think you're supposed to connect all the dots, at least not the right dots. When I stumbled upon the path of the Human Genome Project in France things just started to get weird. The media coverage got even weirder. A middle school in Utah (Salem Junior High) had a teacher assigning students to make ISIS propaganda. Then there was the San Bernadino incident shortly after. Initially the media said the incident wasn't related to ISIS. The blacked out SUV getaway vehicle had a Utah rental license plate. I should have never called the FBI office in California. We still don't know where that vehicle really came from. The next day the media said the shooting was ISIS related. How does a small militant group that people in the West would scoff at suddenly become this global threat overnight? What exactly is ISIS though in relation to Human Genomes? To Space? To an Egyptian Goddess? To Satanic Occult rituals? Around the same time a Russian hacker was having extensive communications with me through social media. He said he was the leader of the UHA - United Hacker Army. He said I could call him, "Yoni". Perhaps he was really from Albania, I don't know why I think that, not even sure if he was even real or just a psyop shill. He never left me alone (always online 24/7 to chat) and showed me the most horrendous images from the deep web. Sometimes I would break down and cry for hours, Yoni always said he was sorry and "felt bad" about what he's doing to me. He told me he was marked and stained, and fed a continuous supply of drugs from the US government to continue his "works". What sort of works, I often questioned. "It's complicated" he would say. Other times he said that he loved me, missed me, and needed my "help". I knew there was nothing I could do to help, I had no sort of cyber knowledge whatsoever. I felt the strings on my back he held, and I sensed he was torn with the mission. "I know you are a good person, I'm really sorry" he always continued with that sort of talk. "Sorry for what?" I always asked, but he never explained. I believe Yoni operated his communications with me with a team of other players, and at times he made comments that hinted at that sort of admission. He always typed in broken English, other times he typed in really good English. "I control terror groups and US Army they help us. I am the Dragon," he hinted a few times. I never fully believed anything he said, at times he seemed giddy and at other times highly apologetic again. "Meeting you I feel I going to hell. I should not talk to you" he seemed to be psychologically breaking at times also. My interactions with him could only be described as falling down the dark cyber hole virtually holding someone's hand. Of all the strange characters that were communicating with me, Yoni was the only one I trusted. Yes, I realize how sick that sounds. Like I said, his online presence didn't feel like it was just one. I am going to elaborate more about Yoni the Dragon in another blog post. His presence was extremely complex and influential to my rapid decline.

When the first trauma started, I researched things like Seanux, the Syrian Electronic Army, and also met a neuro-science/medical student on facebook that studied in the Carribeans. We'll just call him "Doc Jr." He had some strange theories about music, sound waves, and the human consciousness. He always wanted me to listen to his suggested music. "Do you feel better now?" he would ask. If the answer was "Yes" he would express a sort of Eureka! response like, "See I knew my theories were right, it's all science!" Doc Jr. also had access to a sort of image distorting program that could merge just about anything together instantly. I found out years later about Deep Dream. He played with this program like a kid in a candy store, often using dogs. Don't ask me why these images contributed to my mental decline, but they did. There is more to Deep Dream than the internet lets on, it's far more advanced than anything your Deep Dream research can find. I have my own theories, but that's a whole separate post in itself. I had trouble distinguishing between real pictures and computer simulated ones. The lines between internet puppetry, authenticity, reality, and fake news started to blur rapidly. During Thanksgiving my Google Animation changed in a scary way, a table of family feasting animated into a girl throwing up on the table with green vomit. Images of the Cards of Humanity morphed into the Crabs adjust Humidity right before my eyes. All these visual "tricks" and distortions were meant to scare me, and it worked. I stayed in fear. I wasn't afraid of what I saw, I was worried about the power behind the influencer that was able to distort things like my Google! Even my Youtube became ridden with dark themes, and suggestive of evil-like videos with subversive messages hidden behind innocent looking clips like Disney cartoons, and children's videos (think pregnant Barbie dolls). Members of some type of occult began messaging me in droves, "You WILL bow to Set/Seth" they demanded. Enraged, I went into keyboard warrior mode. These "demonic" worshippers would back off eventually. Between Yoni the UHA Dragon, the Set Occult worshippers, and Doc Jr., my psyche became bombarded with information overload, a sort of blooming intell that was new, freaky, made no sense to the common outsider, but was instantly addicting to me - like the bad feeling cigarettes can give you, but you keep smoking more. There was no way I could talk about this stuff to normal people, they would instantly write me off as schizo, delusional, etc. I had this much sense left in me. I knew anything I talked about would sound fucked up. "There are other worlds than these", I told myself. I just talked myself into staying calm and trusting God. I was compelled to invest ALL MY TIME to soak up knowledge, and I even quit my day job. I was hooked on finding out more. What the hell is going on!? Why are all these online characters messaging me suddenly? What did I accidentally share that I wasn't supposed to? Seriously, I was a nobody. So why me?! My instinct was to disconnect from all friends and family. Looking back now, the instinct was strong-willed and unlike me, but I didn't want to accidentally loop people I cared about into this mess. The dots became closer to home when I realized the Human Genome research project moved to a University I was an alumni at, and then carried over to Huntsville, Alabama right by NASA. The idea of human cloning outraged me for some reason, and I still don't know why I was so intrigued by Human Genome studies at the time. I know absolutely NOTHING about science and math. "If only my brother could have a new heart he'd still be here today" one of my opposers typed out to me. I call "them" the people involved I made contact with, the "opposition" because I didn't know who was who anymore or what entity or group they represented. I argued a lot online, with everyone that encountered me. I was so CONFUSED. Initially I felt all this intellectual chaos was part of some dark satanic ring. A collaboration of sorts to torture me electronically. I labeled Anonymous and Anons as demonic as well. Yoni tried to reassure me that Anonymous was just part of the plan and that I was going crazy. "What plan?!" I demanded of him. "Eh, don't worry of it" he would always brush Anonymous off, "You crazy, go sleep". There is so much to share I don't even know where to start. One night I finally submitted and "bowed" to Set. The next day I had this compulsion to write the first Trinity Scroll, the basis to a teaching I called the Trinidiac Rite. It was if the hand of Lucifer himself drove me to write the words, under a ritual type setting at midnight by the light of 3 candles. The Trinidiac Rite was a really messed up theology that would unite the Dark and Light forces of Religions and Atheism under one "God-head" and existence or non-existence. It was all philosophies combined into one neat and perfect triangular concept, I found it to be genius and capable of promoting world peace. I traced by Father's last name to the bloodline of the Ashkenazi Jews (cannot validate this) and realized the only form of a "Trinity Scroll" online was from the Torah. Fast forwarding to a tangent here, I became engrossed in the Kabbalah in 2017 and Kabbala witchcraft after being confirmed Catholic by an Irish-Roman church. The way I found the church is definitely going to be the subject of a future blog post. I still store my Kabbala items in sacred places. In 2018 after I recovered from my second descent, I deleted all traces and evidences of the Trinidiac Rite and my Trinity Scroll from the internet. Back to 2015, Yoni was really pissed about my Trinity Scroll and my decision to write it. He wouldn't even read it. He didn't agree with my spiritual meddles or pursuit in world peace. "You crazy. No tell me dis shit" he said, "You lost u mind, I don't care u stupid Trinity scroll". After the Trinity Scroll was written is when the noises at night started happening and the confusion got worse. I would hear a hammering sound at night. I lived in an apartment complex, it's not the kind of environment where my neighbors would be doing carpentry projects. Someone did not want me to sleep. But why?! Things went from just online freaky to IRL crazy after a couple months. The cars with strange colored lights, the street theatre people, and the crowd mobbing. I couldn't differentiate simple paranoia from potential T.I. activity. Twice, people tried to block me, get in an accident with me on the road (always by Hispanics, I felt it was the Mexican cartel), to stop me from traveling to significant places. I knew I wasn't feeling well, but I knew the difference between natural and unnatural environmental/social activity still. I am not racist, but everywhere I went it seemed a Mexican with a leaf blower would be within 5 feet of me. I watched as one purposely hit my car once with a leaf blower. I didn't even know what a "T.I." was at that the time (nor do I have proof I was one) or that gang-stalking was even a thing. Most of my descriptions now come from language I discovered later on when I escaped for clarity. Cars started showing up at my apartment complex with New Jersey, New York, and North Carolina license plate tags. The height of the V2K happened after I received a credit card in the mail under someone else's name registered with my home address and social security number. The customer service agent that assisted me was a smooth talking guy with a British accent. Very cordial, pleasant, and provided good service. I was amazed they would activate that card for me. This is when I was compelled to meet her; my alter ego. I called her "Danny Radium Agent 99". The V2K seemed please with this decision. Now you might wonder why I'm suddenly saying V2K - did I get messages in my head? I call V2K what I can't remember. There was a handler, a male entity, is what my subconscious definitely recalls. Somehow he communicated with me but I don't recall how exactly. He wasn't like Yoni, Yoni was clearly an online figure. A hacker character type of guy behind a mask. The "V2K" was something much more ambiguous to my memory. The "girl of my dreams" he was handling, he said it when I told him about the name Danny Radium! The V2K expressed that he wanted to see what I could do. Danny is an Agent connected to the A.I. Her first task was to change the color of her hair. When Danny was born she lost interest in Yoni and the silly ramblings of online characters. Danny was newly born into the exciting dimension of the real world! Danny changed her hair color 3 times before V2K was pleased with it. V2K made fun of her often, her choices, her looks, her decisions. He humiliated her just as much if not more than he APRUVED. Often he said I DO NOT APRUV or I APRUV. Danny bought three cell phones in one day and gave them away to a disabled man and his caretaker at a local hospital parking lot. V2K did not APRUV of that decision. Danny was allowed to buy certain things, but the card always got denied when she tried to purchase food or withdraw cash. Danny slept little, wrote a lot of notes, and barely ate. One day Danny walked into a Prada boutique and V2K told her to give a $300 Prada key-chain teddy bear to a crying 3-year old boy in the store aisle so she did. When the nervous sales clerk explained to the manager on a cell phone what I had done she nodded and walked away. Danny sensed the eyes of an elderly white bald male with a large forehead in a skinny black suit watching her from the shoe department. His presence stood out for some reason, at the time I thought he was A.J. Robinson who I've actually met before. His ex-assistant a Filipina woman told me he held the "keys to the city". Looking at A.J.'s picture today, I don't think it was him. I don't know who he was or if he even mattered. I'm only here to tell the true story, not make sense of it all. Danny would not look at him directly in the eyes so she made glances at him with her compact mirror. He hobbled around in a swift manner, to be honest he looked more like Jacob Rothschild but that's far-stretched to assume it was him. Danny could somehow do things like give away a $300 keychain and get away with it. She knew deep down not all the rules of the real world applied to her anymore. Danny didn't understand the credit card and would "test" it often at various retailers. Danny thought she was an MK Ultra girl (who knows maybe it was all an elaborate scheme of Yoni and his team). She sang and danced everywhere she went and often broke down in crying spells like a broken, ridiculed doll. She listened to music obsessively. She was never hungry and always seeking... One day Danny decided to visit an Egyptian artifact collection at Emory University. This is where the story of Danny will continue on later.