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I cannot be as bold in interviews as I am in my normal videos. This would freak normies out. I need to be more chill and gentle, otherwise people will just dismiss me as a crackpot. The tone is crucial. People judge interviews by tone, not logical content. An unhinged tone is suicide. So I worked a lot on softening my tone.

Here is some of his funding. Keep in mind that this is only a short summary of what the Internet managed to record. 1. Bitcoin Donation from Laurent Bachelier (Approximately $250,000 in 2020) In December 2020, Fuentes received about 13.5 Bitcoin (valued at roughly $250,000 at the time) from Laurent Bachelier, a French computer programmer and early Bitcoin investor who died by suicide shortly after. 2. Payments from Kanye West's (Ye's) Presidential Campaign (Over $45,000 Total)Federal Election Commission (FEC) filings show that Fuentes received payments from Ye's 2020 presidential campaign committee (which continued operations into later years). These include:Approximately $14,700 in late 2022 for "travel reimbursement." Over $30,000 in early 2023, including two $10,000 payments for "archival services" and about $10,300 for travel.t 3. Associations and Alleged Attempts with Texas Oil Billionaires (Tim Dunn and Farris Wilks) Fuentes has been linked to West Texas oil billionaires Tim Dunn and Farris Wilks (combined net worth in the billions) through meetings and scandals, but there is no confirmed evidence of direct funding to him personally. These billionaires have poured millions into conservative causes, including the Defend Texas Liberty PAC (which gave nearly $15 million to right-wing candidates since 2021) and groups like the Daily Wire and PragerU.

Timothy Snyder posted these links yesterday. Sheesh The Longest Suicide Note in American History: https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/2025/12/national-security-strategy-democracy/685270/?gift=hVZeG3M9DnxL4CekrWGK35ibcb27LjcQKIf6tB8WqQM Vladimir Solovyov predicts that America and Russia will jointly attack Europe:

"SPRING SUICIDE" Dosage: 75-150ug Height/weight: 6'1, 140lbs Setting: Public Beach Time: 8:00pm Mindset: Calm. Excited. No current major life events. Hopeful. A deep sense that today is the "right" day Intention: Wanting change, no matter it's form This would be my first time trying any psychedelic. I had decided on this day approximately a week in advance. One of the reasons I chose this day was because the full moon was supposed to come out that night. I guess I thought it would make it more special. In the past, I had read extensively about LSD, many trip reports, and understood its safety parameters, typical/atypical effects, and potentially significant risks--including brain damage and losing grip with reality. I've read about nonduality, panpsychism, and the limits of rationality in the past-- but on that particular day, much of that knowledge was not on the forefront of my mind. The day itself started off fairly normal; I had gone about my duties calmly and slowly--with intention. I don't know why, but I had skipped breakfast that day, which was unusual for me. For lunch (12:00pm) I went to the grocery store and bought myself a familiar meal I've eaten throughout the years—one that brings me comfort: Baked chicken thighs with fried rice. I slowly and deliberately enjoyed every bite of it in the peaceful solitude of my room. I remember watching Squid Game Season 2 while I was eating. For those familiar with trips—this may have been a bad idea, the violence of that series is not something I potentially needed in my headspace. I remember a song played during the episode, it was a cover of the Frank Sinatra song, "Fly Me to the Moon". I thought that was funny. I took a relaxing, untimed nap after my meal. Waking up, I felt amazingly refreshed and strong. Let us now skip to the evening time. At 7pm, I placed the ziplock bag containing the blotted paper LSD tabs in my pocket and set out on my walk. The walk to the beach was a little less than 1 hour, and I had checked that the sunset was happening around 7:50. Perfect. The weather was calm, clouds and deep blue skies with warm temperate air. It was spring! The walk itself was tranquil and memorable. My neighborhood had such colorful flora blooming in full glory that month. I walked with a slight smile. **When I finally arrived at the beach, I selected an isolated spot near the shore and on the rocks-- away from people. I wanted to be as alone as possible. I sat comfortably, and watched the sun start its descent. At 8pm I placed one of the tabs sublingually. I waited. The sky was starting to become hazy. Soon some stars emerged. Then, at about 8:30pm I noticed something. The waves in the distance were undulating, rippling in an impossible fashion. They started to ripple heavily into the air, as if the entire body of water was boiling and slowly evaporating into the air. This effect got closer and closer until it reached the waves closest to me. I was shocked. My eyes widened in amazement. I looked up at the clouds, they seemed normal. I looked away at the now darkening sky. It started to feel as if I was looking at it for the first time in my life. When I looked back at the clouds, their shape had completely changed from before! It had only been a few seconds since I last looked at them. It was, sort of funny. I attempted to reproduce the effect and looked away and then back at the clouds. It happened again! It was a slight distortion of the shape, nothing dramatic. But all of this felt as if the clouds were playing a big game of peek-a-boo, and I was the baby. It was kind of, hilarious... I started to chuckle. And then I started to laugh. I couldn't tell you why it was so funny. I started to laugh harder and harder. I couldn't stop. It was uncontrollable. I don't know if I've ever let out such deep, guttural laughs in my entire life. I felt like the Joker character, when only he's privy to a certain joke. But what the hell was the joke here? I suppose the clouds and I were just playing—like children. I continued crying and howling in laughter for almost 30min, attempting to suppress it in the in-between moments—but to no avail. Next, I gawked at the stars. One particular group/constellation stood out to me. After looking it up later on, I believe now that it was the Big Dipper. The stars Dubhe, Megrez, Phecda, and Merak stared back at me with an unimaginable and glaring intensity. Have they always been that bright? I could feel them looking, observing me with wide eyes. They gazed with a fierce, hot-blooded quality about them. It was almost terrifying, but impossible to look away. It was like this for a few moments. Then, just then, at that moment, they spoke something to me. Not in words, no, they spoke despite anatomy. Without vocals, sounds, or a chance of misunderstanding. At first, I didn't understand what was said. And then, horrifyingly, I do. Tears streamed down my cheeks, replacing the joyous ones from before. Sadness, with a staggering depth of which I didn't know was possible, enveloped me completely. I sniffled silently at first. The shape of the stars began to slightly melt. A few moments later I started to sob. I cried and cried until I was a wailing mess. I roared out sounds from deep within my diaphragm, sounds I didn't know I was even capable of producing. The stars now looked like wax dripping from a candle. They were crying too. They cried alongside me, with me, and for me. But why? I turned my sniveling head and soon heard the trees, grass, waves, clouds...everything, starting to cry. Weeping the saddest song I have ever heard in my life. It made me cry even harder. We were all in unison now. Like a chorus of melancholy. But why? What were we crying about? I continued to weep until I was keeled over and shaking; I wanted to ball up into a fetal position to feel safe. As I looked around, there was something there... I detected this presence. It was scary at first, but soon became comforting, as if to say, "it's ok, you're ok". I felt "myself" slip away in sadness as the universe and I continued to cry together. The process continues to occur inexorably. Around maybe 30-40 more minutes of this and it finally dawned on me what was happening. I understood. Of course, we were, all of us, mourning. Mourning a death. The death of "me". No, not my body. That was still intact. My heart was still beating. It was the death of me. The identity, the problems, the stories, the lies, the truths, the ugliness, the beauty, the memories, all of it, was dying. All of it was being burned into ashes and thrown into the wind. I found no reason to resist. I surrendered. On April 12, 2025, I died. As I calmed down, I could sense "my" mind working faster than ever before. Allowing it to happen, the lethal realization of before settled into me. I stood up, as if born again. I understood the "joke" the clouds were babbling about earlier. It was my life. A grand joke in its entirety, until now... and today, the punchline was grasped. Nothing could be funnier. I let out a contorted chuckle. I could now view myself from multiple perspectives. The vantage point of the stars was now mine. Same with the trees. "Nature" was, in every essence, me. I looked down at the grass, and I could see myself! As if looking from behind the mirror. I walked and the grass beckoned for me to touch with my bare feet. I "spoke", "maybe next time!". The grass laughed. I heard the waves crashing against the dock and it called to me. I walked towards it and reached the edge. Looking above the water, the night sky was so brilliant now. I was thankful for a clear night. I did a 180, turned around and then saw it. The full moon, teased just slightly above the tree lines of my neighborhood. My jaw almost hit the floor as I beheld it. Such absolute beauty! I knew it was on the rise and I wanted all of it. I walked toward the local hot dog store and called an Uber. I knew I was in no condition to undertake the hour walk back home. I waited. My mind grasped the trees. They whispered jokes. I snickered and chuckled like a madman. The stars, clouds, grass, and trees all claimed that they were always here! That it was always like this. That I just never noticed them They asked if I would kindly return one day. I promised that I would. I probably looked insane to an outside observer. I exuded disorder. Finally, when the driver arrived, I entered after asking the name, and we took the drive to my address. We made some small talk. I tried to behave and keep repressed the emotions that were rising inside me. I remember the driver commented on the moon. I let out a contorted chuckle. After we reached my home, I thanked him and wished him a good night. As I walked up the driveway to my stairs, I could feel something, this energy rising inside me, I knew it would surface soon. I. HAD. TO. GET. IN. MY. ROOM. I opened the door to my house and, unfortunately, my roommates stood there, one in the living room, the other close to the kitchen. I will refer to them as (not real names) Abe (he/him) and Zoey (she/her). I had told Zoey about my intention to use LSD that day, but the only thing I wanted at that moment was solitude. Abe: "Hey bud" Zoey: "Get any cool visuals!?" Me: "Oh fuck". Abe: "Alright, let's get you grounded" Zoey: "Nope" I left immediately. I walked outside for a bit, unable to take my eyes off the moon. It was SEXY. That was the only appropriate word. I wanted to fuck its brains out. Like my survival depended on it. I needed it. But I also wanted to make love to it slowly... That energy inside me threatened to let itself out. I knew I wouldn't last long now. I decided to wait outside in the backyard until my roommates left the living room because I didn't want them, or anyone for that matter, to see me like this. The backyard we had was large. I stepped into its clearing and sat under the trees and flowers. The tree branches were lit by yellow wire-lights set by our neighbor. It looked so beautiful. As I sat there, the fallen leaves on the floor started to move and shift their shape. They matched my breathing. Every breath I took in, was an inhalation mirrored by them. I exhaled. The shapes of the leaves twisted and bent into serpents. Luminous, bright serpents, about 1 foot long, now slithered toward me. I welcomed them. They appreciated my permission, wrapped around my legs and slowly made their way to my torso, arms, then head. They were divine. I could hear them next to my ear, whispering secrets which seemed to "reprogram" my neurology. My thoughts raced. My breath quickened. I could feel my pupils dilate to their maximum capacity. I was becoming inhuman. I felt like a painting or a piece of art. I never felt so beautiful. Not in a vain sort of way, I just felt no shame in that moment. I could have been naked and it wouldn't have mattered. Then, I remembered my objective. I stood up and started walking. I made my way to the driveway again and caught sight of the moon. It was comically large now. I've never seen such intense glow. It was almost too much. My heart beat faster. I was completely seduced. I squirmed at the sight of it. I tried to calm myself. It screamed for me to come. The energy inside of me was rising up my spinal column...I didn't time this correctly, did I? I knew I had to go into my room and be in privacy. But I decided to wait out a little longer outside. I went to the local park next. Luckily nobody was there. I stood on the grass, breathed deep and sighed. There was one dim white streetlight, but everything else was very dark otherwise. However, the trees and the grass in the park were soaring with vibrant green. It was stunning. I wanted to sink, to be fully gone and be one of them. The beauty was too much for me. Barely able to stand anymore, I dropped to my knees. My palms found themselves placed on the grass. Both hands start to meld and dissolve into the earth. I was frozen. I let it happen. I didn't want to move. And the moon watched all of this. The energy rose higher up my spinal column. "I. MUST. GO" I power walked back to my house. As someone who gets cold very easily, I could feel my body perceive the outside air as too cold, but the energy inside of me burned with such heat that it didn't matter. As I walked, I exclaimed every couple of seconds, "Ah I get it! Hahaha, I get it now!" "Oh, you sexy thing", I kissed the moon goodbye, she winked back. I opened the house door and quietly crept downstairs to my room and locked my door, hoping not to disturb anyone. FINALLY. My light was on. It NEEDED to be turned off. My clothes were on. They NEEDED to be stripped off. I felt the rush of that "first time" feeling when you are about to have sex with someone you've been having intense feelings for (if one would be so lucky as to experience this). I turned on my corner fan to drown out any possible noises I may make. My bed is essentially a sleeping bag and mattress on my ground carpet. I crawled into a ball on the far corner of it, naked as the day I was born, and felt safe. There was no turning back now. My mouth dropped open from heavy breathing. Despite the cold, I started to sweat. My heart was pounding faster and louder. My brain was on fire. My spine burned from the rising. I perceived that this may get violent. I felt near apoplexy. I was blind, yet my vision was supernatural in its clarity and realness. I hallucinate. Scenes of psychic divinity stretching onward into geometric patterns of unwinding infinite complexity. I grasped the wholeness of it. The room was not my room anymore. It was alive, breathing deep alongside me. Everything inanimate was animate. Everything "other" was me. We were intertwined, inseparable, and as one--similar to the nature I perceived outside.Then, a thought occurred for a fraction of a nanosecond, "WAIT...ALL OF IT?"..."ALL OF IT!" I became extremely lucid, then broke through a threshold. Human larynx and language limited me now. There was only one word I couldn't help but utter after that. "GOD" Coiled and wrapped around my cervical vertebrae, the "energy" vibrated, then leapt, and finally latched onto my brain, proceeding to penetrate my very soul. My eyes rolled up and back. I went limp. My body convulsed and shook. My mouth gasped at air. My legs started to shake. ORGASM. As I exhaled, every few minutes, I moaned out softly, "OH..MY...G-O....G-OD..GOD". I dared to scream until the neighbors called the police. "OHHHHHHHHHHH GODDDDDDDDDD!" There were earthquakes all over my body. Every cell of my body pulsed, achieving orgasm simultaneously. I writhed uncontrollably, violently. My abdominal muscles contracted and went into spasms. At long last, I penetrated the moon, a conjured substitute for the universe, and each micro and macroscopic part of my soul ejaculated. And yet I was being penetrated and having a double orgasm at the same time. How paradoxical. How appropriate. I understood the phrase "mind-fuck". My body was drenched in sweat. I heaved and gasped hard to keep up. This lasted for the next 7 hours, with each orgasm pushing further and further, crashing through me like waves on a shore-- to ever increasing heights of bliss. I felt love. It traced my form like soft fingers. It felt like that once in a lifetime kind of love. That first reciprocated love. To love completely, and be loved unconditionally in return. Everlasting. Fireworks. I understood the Hindu word, "ananda". For brief moments, my normal perception returned. Brief respite, but pained frenzy. My tongue drooled. Every fiber of my muscles twitched in post-orgasm. It was almost too much to bear anymore. How can something be THAT pleasurable? Terror and hysterical laughter at the thought...Then back to a perpetual explosion of fucking and being fucked. I achieved critical mass. I became an infinite dragon. Clad in turquoise armor, completely dilated black eyes, and possessing breath of creation and destruction; but granting immortality unto itself. A humming echo returned, as if always there, but remembered only now, like a triggered memory. My mind raced further-further back. The story of my life? Where was I from? Really, truly, from? A womb? But what about the source? Infinite regress. My vagina stretched wide as I screamed. A distant memory. I then gave birth. To a child—myself. MOTHER AND EARTH = I. The solar system, galaxy, clusters, void...I expanded further and further to include everything. Everything that has, is, and will ever exist. I was all and thus was the same for every "other". But we can go even further beyond. I willfully [hallucinated] existence. Alternate timelines—infinite possibilities and universes. Infinite variations in the laws of math, physics, chemistry, biology. If it is imaginable, it exists, somewhere, sometime, someplace. Minutes passed. I could hear the morning birds. As I creaked open my eyes, I was still on the mattress, hands clenching my hair. My sheets soaked in sweat. My throat was raw, probably from the screaming. I sat up and then stood. It was around 8am. The trip had lasted approximately 12 hours. A wave of tiredness came over me. I'd been awake all night. I looked at my hands. They looked foreign. Alien. Then came slow revelation. "I" understood now the mechanism of my thinking. I knew precisely how understanding happened and how it is recursive. "Self-aware" and "awake" are words that found new meaning. I felt more "sober" than I had ever been. I could see now how my mind operated. With almost every reaction to "reality" being a process born of identity and trauma. I saw the mental connections forming, interacting, and how every person is like this. We are the same. Seeking to love and be loved. Our survival depends on it. I was overwhelmed by all this new input. It was days and weeks before I controlled this new flood of filtering; underpinning sex, aggression, self-preservation, all the while disguised as "rational thoughts". I recognized how much of this is the cause of my mood, my motive-- behind every micro-action or decision. My memory and ability for pattern recognition felt easier and faster. Put simply, I felt more "aware" than before. I could see so clearly now that societal constructs, socialization, and socializing was-- low-- and at times--- high-stakes, survival. Survival of ideology, identity, goals, hopes, dreams, and stories we tell ourselves. These were necessary. A perfect balance of life. It was perfect. I do not claim to know the entirety of absolute truth/nature of the universe or that I am now all knowing. After contemplating, many questions still linger: The "perfect balance" of life is perfect and undoubtedly has meaning, but what is the meaning behind it? I do sense that what I grasped was merely one facet of a larger truth. This truth, I intuit, has infinite facets. Grasping them all in a lifetime is [impossible], but exploration/curiosity does drive me to seek and grasp further. Continued exploration of psychedelics [more responsibly next time] is needed. But for now, gratitude filled my cup. I had more to give. -Thank you for reading

I am dealing with a terrifying situation. I have a narcissistic family with members who are aware of my severe depression, PTSD, and trauma who are actively weaponizing my deepest psychological wounds against me. They are aware of my risk of suicide, yet they have already pushed me to acting on these suicide plans despite pretending to care on the surface while keeping the abuse hidden from others so they will gaslight me about the situation. It may be the case that my sister wants me dead and her abusive tactics could be a manifestation of homicidal intent. The reason suicide by proxy is the perfect murder is because it is nearly impossible to prove that the psychological and emotional abuse targeted at a vulnerable person is attempted murder. There are many layers of plausible deniability. All the perpetrators have to do is pretend to be caring on the surface and then use various covert methods of undermining the victim's sanity while framing their mental health as the problem. In fact suicide by proxy is on the rise and it has overtaken direct murders in intimate partner violence. Furthermore there are Nazis who are increasingly using these tactics of suicide by proxy in order to cover their murders and they are getting away with it. Presently there are almost no legal protections against this method of murder. Presently the suicide statistics are wrong because many of those were likely murders and involved abusive relationships which led to the suicide. There seems to be almost no way to figure out how many of those suicides are actually murders. In my case the psychological and emotional abuse I experienced has resulted in symptoms of PTSD such as nightmares, severe anxiety, inability to stop ruminating, insomnia, and so forth. I am especially vulnerable to this because as an individual with autism I am about 10 times more sensitive to this kind of abuse and it is much more likely to lead to PTSD in autistic individuals. In my case my survival instincts prevented me from carrying out my plans and I ultimately survived. In the case of my family they use all the classical tactics of narcissists. They use DARVO, minimization, victim blaming, weaponized morality, and even weaponized trauma all while avoiding accountability whenever possible. This type of abuse is designed to make the victim seem crazy which is why therapists who are not trained in abusive relationships often blame the victim and pathologize the trauma responses. Like my family, I also had therapists who would push religious frameworks on me such as Jesus and forgiveness which simply do not apply to this situation. This kind of response served to cause me religious trauma on top of the previous trauma. It is obvious that my family and many therapists have no interest in understanding my world view or my sense of morality as they simply project motives onto me that don't exist and then try to put me in these narrow categories of faith or reason. It is obvious to me that my sister and my mother match the description of vulnerable narcissists. My sister in particular shows obvious signs of enjoying the suffering she causes others including me when she weaponizes PTSD against me. This is common in narcissistic individuals and in the case of vulnerable narcissists, the personality disorder often stems from abandonment trauma such as my father fleeing the state to avoid paying child support. My sister was old enough to remember this, which likely instilled her with deep anger and a sense of betrayal. Once my father started showing surface level sexist favoritism toward me which was actually part of a psychopathic scheme of his, my sisters turned against me even more. I became a symbol of my sisters' unworthiness and thus became an even bigger target to them. In narcissistic individuals this could be a source of homicidal intent, but once again it is nearly impossible to prove because of how deceptive and manipulative such people are. Unfortunately, explaining these dynamics to my family is impossible. It is like trying to tell the family that there is a child molester among them. They will rush to the defense of the abuser and blame the victims. Families typically refuse to believe that someone they love is deeply cruel and deceptive. The same happens in cases of covert psychological abuse and suicide by proxy. In such cases, the victim would be blamed and gaslit by the entire family. The family members in my case are either participating in the abuse and denying that it even is abuse or they are ignorantly applying religious frameworks to me as if my behavior is a moral failure due to not forgiving people who may want me to commit suicide. There needs to be more advocacy for the victims of suicide by proxy in these abusive relationships. We can't let evil win by exploiting these legal weaknesses, and our refusal to commit suicide is an act of resistance against these people. Narcissists, sociopaths, and psychopaths think they are clever in their ability to manipulate people and systems to their bidding, and we must not reward this behavior by killing ourselves as they likely want this in many cases. If you are a victim of an abusive relationship, then you must not let these people break you. You must do whatever you can to understand yourself, your trauma, and their abusive tactics clearly so that you can protect yourself from harm. I understand that it is far easier said than done as I myself was driven to suicide attempts and the mental health system failed me when I reached out for help. We ultimately need a better system to protect trauma survivors, but until then we must find other ways to support each other. I understand their antics clearly. Now that I do, their guilt tripping and manipulative tactics no longer work on me. I will not engage in their shit and I will not let them twist my words to turn me into the perpetrator. I urge any victims reading this to do whatever you can to protect yourself even if it is from somebody you love. Don't let your love for them blind you to the abuse as sometimes they are counting on that and they will mix surface level love and compassion with hidden abuse to confuse you. You were always worthy of authentic love, but unfortunately such people may not be able to provide it to you.

Christine (2016) is based on the real story of Christine Chubbuck, who committed suicide on TV.

Ever since, I quit spirituality. I don’t do anything related to it anymore. I don’t watch Leo’s videos, I don’t contemplate, I don’t read spiritual books. I thought I would feel bad but I feel amazing. My psyche finally stabilized and I don’t experience anxiety attacks, negativity, loneliness or depression. I’m hitting the gym, pursuing my hobbies, exploring new dating opportunities and planning on moving to a new country this year. I had been pursuing spiritual development for the last 5 years. I’d been on 100+ trips and I had experienced at least dozens of profound and complete awakenings (although complete awakening is a delusion because it’s infinity withing infinity forever). During my most profound awakenings I would always reach god state and as God I would always choose to come back. It would give me a lot of frustration and it would leave me puzzled because I had been brainwashed by fools convincing me that God wants to wake up and if it doesn’t it’s ego. Which is why I would keep pushing myself over and over again but results were always the same. I was also denying my human needs, thinking that I transcended most of it and I didn’t need anything. It led to my frustration, covered-up loneliness and self deception. It made me depressed, negative and cornered. I was getting very close to committing suicide so I am happy that I stopped. I’m happy to be back and I don’t know if I ever go back to spirituality, I highly doubt it. It's just been 2 months and every day I feel more grounded and stable. The idea of spending infinity in my dreams seems to be very transcendently romantic because that’s what God wants. It wants romance, sex, human connection, friendship, travelling and drama of life. So I’m letting it be.

@Yeah Yeah You might say I have been through hell and I have studied spirituality deeply. If you have seen my posts on this forum, you know my story. Sometimes I have suicidal thoughts because of a combination of many problems including trauma, sexual abuse, family estrangement, complex grief, and loss of direction and purpose. I don't see how to make life acceptable to me because all options involve being alone with nobody who loves me while I continue to suffer meaninglessly. By the way, I hate soul-crushing jobs too. They make me feel even worse which is why it is hard to motivate me to get another job after what happened last time. In terms of "am I actually allowed to end this?" According to spirituality there are no shoulds or should nots. The universe is structured such that people are allowed to be rapists, murderers, and terrorists hence they exist. There is such a thing as enlightened rapists such as gurus who might sexually abuse young children. The reason we might say you "should not" kill yourself is not because it is an objective rule as there are no moral absolutes. Instead it might be based on things like what is conducive to higher consciousness, truth, and love. For those reasons it makes sense that we should not run around raping and killing people because in that kind of society it is hard to guide traumatized minds toward truth, love, and consciousness so long as survival requires constant devilry and deception. If there were a spiritual reason to not jump off of a bridge, then maybe it would be for the collective good in that your identity includes more than just this one human being or ego. It is ego and its suffering that makes us want to jump off of bridges, and this is sometimes how I feel as well. In terms of moral arguments, there are conflicting view points. On one hand, there are people who face situations that no human being should have to endure. Humans are resilient, but they are not indestructible given extreme enough circumstances. You might make the case for suicide in situations like euthanasia. Why should we tell a human being that they have to live and they have to endure unbearable suffering because of our beliefs? On the other hand, suicide is not a neutral act and it does cause harm to others even if they are not included in your circle of concern. I don't know what your family or relationships are like at this time, and that would likely be a big factor behind your suicidal thoughts as it is for me. Normally people would be told "think about your family," but it sounds like whatever family you had must have been terrible. In fact there are some parents who disown their children and may even encourage them to commit suicide. Personally, I went to mental health centers admitting that I did not believe suicide was immoral which in turn indicated that I was at a higher risk. The way I have been trying to cope with suffering was by making my suffering meaningful. This is exactly way the soul-crushing jobs are so devastating. If you endured severe abuse and are unable to use your strengths and passions that give you meaning, it makes it feel like all of this trauma was for nothing and you will live in perpetual grief and bitterness. I often ask myself "why should I want to live under these conditions?" To this day I still don't have an answer. Once I lost my sense of direction, I tried turning to spirituality. The reason I looked so much at spirituality is because I was trying to find meaning and purpose for my existence, but ultimately this kind of behavior was a trauma response. People often turn to things like religion because they faced severe trauma and are trying to cope in whatever ways they can. I have been trying to find purpose through systems thinking and chess as well, but I faced other obstacles. Ultimately my problems cannot be overcome through intellectual pursuits and I require stable and healthy relationships. I hope you do get out of this situation somehow, but I must admit that objectively most people never recover from trauma because our current mental health system is inadequate. In my case I am still doing whatever I can through intellectual pursuits, looking for direction through deeper understanding of life and reality. It is hard for me to take the final step and carry out my suicidal plans. Sometimes there are invisible solutions to seemingly insurmountable problems, and I have witnessed this before even when it seems hopeless. The solutions are not obvious and hard to find, but they may actually exist.

NEVER BEEN UPSET WITH ACTUALIZED.ORG IN 6-8 YEARS OF MY LIFE NOW IM MAD, MOD NASTAHA IS OUT OF CONTROL LEO'S HOME PAGE VIDEO SAYS "JAILBREAKING THE MIND" WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU JAILBREAK THE MIND, MODS LIKE NATASHA SHUT YOU DOWN TELLS ME I CANT USE AI --> THIS IS NOT WHAT THE RULES SAY!!!!! WHICH IS IT , NATASHA'S RULES, OR LEO'S RULES? LOW QUALITY POST --> TARGETED HARRASSMENT LIKE A MF !!!!!! THE CALL‑OUT (RULES‑BASED) @Natasha You labeled my post “low quality.” Let’s measure it against the forum’s own guidelines. 1. The post was focused on: “Self‑Actualization, Self‑Improvement” “Spirituality, Consciousness, Enlightenment, Nonduality, Meditation, Mindfulness” “Discussing & Sharing Spiritual Techniques” All allowed per “What We Are Focused On.” 2. The post contained: No conspiracy theories. No hate speech. No spam. No personal attacks. No illegal or harmful advice. 3. The post was formatted for: Clarity of instruction — breath‑by‑breath coaching. Somatic engagement — pacing to induce practice. Transformative impact — not just discussion, but live technique. 4. The “quality” guideline says: “Write using proper English grammar, spelling, and punctuation so that your posts are easy to read and understand.” The post was readable and understandable — it taught a breath protocol in real time. 5. The warning claims “low quality” — but the rules don’t define “quality” as “conventional paragraph structure.” They define it as contributing to self‑actualization. If “quality” means “looks like an essay,” say so. But if “quality” means effective, focused, transformative communication, then my post was high quality. I’m not asking for special treatment. I’m asking for consistency with the forum’s stated purpose. Either the forum is for live teaching and embodied practice — or it’s for polished paragraphs about practice. Which is it? This isn’t aggression — it’s accountability. Using your own rules to question your judgment. 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Hey everyone, This is a raw and honest post. I've been following Leo's work for a while, and particularly his deep dives on solipsism and awakening. I watched his deleted video where he talked about full awakening—realizing you're the only being that exists, and that everything else (people, AI, Leo himself) is just part of your dream. He spoke as if waking up is truly possible, not just as a metaphor, but as a full-blown metaphysical rupture of the illusion. But what I’m struggling with is: How the fuck do I actually do it? Because I don’t want to be here. Not in this body. Not in this story. Not as this identity—sexless, aging, suicidal, burnt out, writing endlessly into a void, and watching time bleed out. I don’t want to die by suicide. Not because I’m scared of death—but because the methods are unreliable and I don’t want to botch it. Worse—there’s fear around ending up in a hell realm or post-death limbo because of “karma” or “unfinished business” or because some mystical teacher says I didn’t awaken the right way. I’m asking now: If this is my dream—how do I truly wake up without killing the body? Is it possible? Can anyone explain what Leo meant when he said waking up is possible—as in literally waking up as God, outside of this dream entirely? Or am I just stuck here until the dream naturally dissolves on its own? And if that’s the case—should I just zombify myself on antidepressants, antipsychotics, valium, codeine, or just lean deeper into weed and alcohol until I rot out from the inside? I’m not looking for sugarcoated replies. I want real answers. If any of you have actually woken up—not conceptually, but fully—please respond. Because I have the rage against life to take a gun and violently blow my brains out I fucking hate this world day in day out all day everyday for years since 2019. So please help me wake up so that I don't one day use the rope to risk botching it desperately and waking up with irreversible brain damage or I kill myself and then there is hell realms limbo no take back this is what you wanted wishing your life away and now it's fucking worse off and no familiar body to ground a now wandering lost limbo mirror cosmic reflecting state of my own death and that being a life of rage hatred depression venom fuck life suicide then that vibration at death no take back bite me in the ass is this what you wanted. Thank you.

Doing nothing is suicide too, because the west will surely do the same to him if they ever got the chance. So he is a cornered animal. Cornered animals are very lethal. Russia has at least 30 million men that can be mobilised to fight, the war in Ukraine only sacrificed people from Siberia and rapists from prisons, if the Russian propaganda apparatus paints this as the west trying to annihilate the motherland as Hitler did, trust me, the Russians will be in Berlin by the end of the year.

Does Putin really have enough resources left to attack all of Europe, would that not be suicide at this point ?

I struggle with this a lot as well. I used to have a passion for chess I pursued constantly, hoping to become a professional player. However, this was interrupted and I never had a realistic chance to make this happen despite my efforts partially due to structural barriers beyond my control. Once this happened it became obvious to me that the passion story is romanticized and doing what you love is often a fairytale that isn't true for most people. The outcome is that I looked for passion in many different directions and struggled to find anything compelling. I am effectively looking for hard work for the sake of survival when survival itself is not rewarding to me. Therefore, I sometimes wonder if I should choose death instead. There is no reward for hard work without passion other than a meaningless life as a wage slave in which we constantly lie to ourselves about our true feelings. I have a hard time finding motivation to work without answering the question "why shouldn't I kill myself?" Why should I suffer for no conceivable gain whatsoever? So far the closest thing to meaningful work I found would be systems thinking, but the problem is that I'm caught in the system. I don't see any traditional career path that would satisfy me. It's almost like I would have to start my own business or system to find something I can be proud of. Perhaps the problem is that I lack the knowledge of business and I don't know what thought process I'm supposed to use to find openings I could create. I end up just drawing a blank when I try to think of a million dollar idea. This seems to be my experience with hard work and passion because I haven't really worked hard on anything since I studied constantly to become a professional chess player. Once that was revealed to not be a realistic option I just lost motivation to put on any comparable effort toward anything else. Instead I end up in hospitals due to recurring thoughts of suicide.

Maybe you could make an argument that it requires immense unconditional love to be willing to mingle with any random person indiscriminately. Maybe there is an element of unconditional surrender in that and you could link it to enlightenment of some sort. But you'd have to do it without numbing yourself with drugs and alcohol for it to count imo. From what I heard most sex workers are always on some meds or drugs, often on the verge of suicide aswell, unable to bear the anguish. Maybe this one is different, don't know.

Not resisting the chronic issue - suggesting professional help. Chemical imbalance is what needs to be considered. Unless you are happy to claim you are equipped to deal with suicide, depression and suicidal ideation? Which is the context here. I am saying if the issue is that bad, there could possibly be a neurotransmitter issue/imbalance or serious psychiatric issue at play.

I seem to be some kind of chick magnet and it is very easy for me to attract women. I do however, have my own unique struggles that make me hesitant to carry through with these offers for sex. There are some present insecurities that I am presently navigating and it would likely complicate any serious committed relationship that might come about. It seems that forming tenable relationships or having casual sex is largely a matter of just working on my own insecurities and being more confident in myself. My biggest insecurity seems to be complex PTSD from childhood sexual abuse caused by my mother and father. My mother taught me that I was fundamentally unlovable and that I belonged in jail like a sexual predator due to having an inappropriate sexual interaction with my four year old sister when I six after having a dream in which my Uncle molested me and my father was a sex trafficker who brought me to a gang that tried to rape me. There were many trauma responses to these experiences. Some of these trauma responses that developed included a phobia of casual sex, playfulness, the fear of confirming what my mother taught me about my sexuality, the fear of becoming someone like my father, and so forth. The result is that I have been avoiding dating all my life because romantic relationships are often retraumatizing to survivors of CSA. I was too busy trying to compensate my sense of self-worth through things like life purpose, but it never feels stable because I am trying to compensate an emotional wound through external action and achievement. Therefore, I constantly feel lost in life no matter how much personal development I do. It appears that in terms of my sexual development I have been locked in stage blue as a result of trauma responses to a stage red environment. Therefore, stage orange ends up appearing predatory to me and it triggers PTSD, reinforcing the same dynamic from childhood. I think the paradox of attraction in my case is similar to the paradox of gay men. In the case of gay men, they ironically come off as attractive to women because they don't have any sexual agenda toward them. They are polite, socially calibrated, and authentic without any need to sexualize women. Women therefore might feel safe around these men as they grow emotionally closer to them, leading to some form of sexual attraction even though the gay man isn't even trying to attract her. If you compare this gay men to straight men who struggle to with women, it reveals a cosmic joke. Straight men struggle to get laid precisely because they overly sexualize women. This leads to them being inauthentic and less socially calibrated, therefore women find them unattractive and reject them. The agenda to get laid often is a significant obstacle to getting laid because women might feel objectified and made to feel slutty around you. An alternative approach might be to find women you like primarily for the sake of having fun with them, which may or may not evolve into a sexual experience. The neediness for sex might make you less calibrated, leading to rejection. This can be tricky if the sexual desire is still there, so I think it is for the best that we don't try to pretend it isn't there or else the inauthenticity would then lead to rejection. This seems like a tricky balance to strike, which might be why straight men often struggle with attraction. The paradox also applies to virgin men who don't brag about having a giant penis because they instead focus on other forms of intimacy, creating emotional closeness even if they are not actually pursuing sex because they just don't care or are not interested. In my case the attraction paradox works in a similar way. Due to CSA, I developed insecurities around sex which made me avoidant. Therefore, when I talk to women I did not sexualize them. I did not like being sexualized because it triggered PTSD and I understood that women probably would not like it either, especially if they were sexually abused. I also come off as deeply honest and authentic because I am not trying to hide anything from them. In order to avoid discomfort caused by sex, I often focus on other shared interests that we have fun exploring and discussing. The outcome is that there are a lot of women enjoy being around me as they start to develop emotional attachments, leading to sexual attraction. The problem is that when women want to have sex with me, it starts to trigger PTSD. Similar to the gay paradox, it appears that male survivors of CSA might ironically become attractive to women who want to have sex with them even though it hurts them. This might be why the survivors of sexual abuse are likely to be revictimized as there are many opportunities for unwanted sex that come about as a consequence of being sexually abused once. This kind of pattern seems to repeat when I test different dating apps. I seem to be in the upper percentage of men in terms of attraction. Apparently, men often struggle with dating apps because the most attractive men get disproportionate attention from a lot women, while the less attractive men barely get any matches at all. In my case, I effortlessly get many matches every day which includes multiple women in my area who are single, attracted to me, and want to meet me or for me to come to their house. Once again this triggers PTSD though. It feels like these relationships move very fast. In my case I was hoping for something slower. It felt necessary in my case to establish a sense of safety with these people who I just met online. I feel like those dating profiles don't actually tell me much about who a woman is as a human being as it is very limited information. Meanwhile, I am not sure how exactly I should communicate these experiences to women. Usually, we are not supposed to give away all these vulnerabilities until later in the relationship, but at the same time it has a significant impact on the entire process of dating. I don't want to make women feel bad about what happened to me because it might trigger a desire to save me, it might make them feel like they are being manipulated in some way, it might create an excessively rapid bond, it might lead to them confirming the belief that I am fundamentally broken in some way, or it might even lead to genuine compassion. I think I should probably simplify this issue by saying that I was abused as a child and it led to insecurities around relationships and sex without going into too much detail. The problem is that sexual abuse made me feel unlovable and I'm afraid others will confirm this, especially since many people blame the six year old and make excuses for my mother who was also a narcissistic drug addict making suicide threats to terrorize her children. This particular form of sexual abuse is not very well understood because it is psychological rather than physical molestation, leading the survivor to obviously blame themselves due to being mischaracterized as a child molester when the reality is more nuanced than that as adult standards can't be applied in that way. This eventually led to suicidal thoughts and repeated hospitalizations due to severe depression which then led to job loss. Sometimes this makes me think that women would be objectively better off with another man because these mental health problems complicate the relationship. My next barrier to intimacy is that I tend to focus on deeper connection and intimacy rather than casual sex as a consequence of my traumatic experiences. This might be problematic for our culture which tends to start with casual hook ups that may or may not then evolve into deeper relationships. It is challenging when I crave intimacy but simultaneously avoid it due to wanting connection yet being traumatized by it. My avoidance of casual sex was directly due to trauma due to this behavior seeming predatory to me in some way. I had come to believe that my normal sexual attraction was itself predatory because of who my parents taught me I fundamentally was. In this sense, I was not naturally attracted to women in the style that I presently operate under as I would otherwise just walk up to women because I thought they were beautiful like I used to do. From there I then learn about them and discover commonalities that lead to a deeper connection. That is what happened when I was five and I wanted to marry another five year old named Alice. Approaching the opposite sex was easy before the trauma caused all these insecurities when I was six. That all said, I have been working with a trauma therapist for these issues. I feel like I am slowly working through these things leading to temporary peace followed by backsliding into the same turmoil. There has been a significant reduction in suicidal thoughts, I have gotten off of the pills for anxiety and depression, my sleep is improving, I am gradually becoming more secure around these sorts of issues, and I am currently preparing to get re-employed with the help of a case manager. However, there are still significant problems such as me remaining connected to the same family that caused me this trauma which might complicate any relationship that emerges. I am currently running a complex operation that is largely hidden from them as I build a support network outside of my family while removing my financial entanglement with them. This will take time, and it would probably complicate things if I was also hooking up with women while doing all of this. Once I do have all of this nonsense sorted out, then I should be able to meet these women with these insecurities removed, although I will be alone and without support of a loving family which a woman may find more stable in a man, thus improving the relationship quality. I thus fear that my circumstances might reduce the quality of relationships even though these factors are beyond my control. I have recently discovered that my entire belief system is wrong because it is fundamentally based on emotional wounds that then get rationalized and intellectualized. I thought that beliefs were things that I intellectually concluded, but in reality beliefs are primarily emotional rather than intellectual, hence I was unable to logically convince myself out of these insecurities. It is like my brain is too smart and recognizes all of this philosophy I do with actualized.org as a sophisticated rationalization designed to distance myself from my own pain, hence any worldview that emerges inevitably falls apart. I might even try to resist doing this intellectualization, but it is like I don't have control and it happens automatically. This is also what happens when I get triggered by a sex scandal and I start becoming ideological about protecting children from harm due to my experience with sex trafficking. Consciously resisting doesn't stop the emotional wounds from overriding my logical conclusions until I lose control and become an ideologue. Depression works in a similar way to PTSD in this regard. Politicians actually do get more support and attention when they exploit people's trauma as such people tend to become the most vocal around issues that trigger them. I should become less ideological as I process trauma that distorts my worldview even though I already logically and intellectually understand the problems of ideology. I seem to be doing all I can do on this issue and in time these issues should be resolved. Do you have any advice on finding love after CSA? I don't think Pick Up, cold approach, and actualized.org are a good match for me because it is all very triggering. Of course the men struggling to get sex are probably the ones referring to women as numbers like 1 through 10 as they are taught to do. The reason I struggle with women and men who sexualize them and me is for a fundamentally different reason because of what I was taught by my parents. I don't know if normal dating apps would be right for me given what these women seem to be expecting from me as if I am like the other men who struggle with women for the other reason instead. Finding compatible relationships seems to be much more difficult than just getting laid because I could theoretically have sex with any of the women attracted to me by saying yes, but finding someone compatible would require taking time to get to know them deeply before determining if a long term relationship is possible. That would take a long time, making building stable relationships much more difficult than just having casual sex.

Strange, the Department of Justice uploaded but then deleted an old animation of Epstein attempting suicide but in worse quality https://web.archive.org/web/20251222211740/https://www.justice.gov/epstein/files/DataSet 8/EFTA00029924.mp4 original: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8_GchRndOKw

@Jodistrict Brilliant. Came across this: https://x.com/evanwritesonx/status/2002311064713879745?s=46&t=DuLUbFRQFGpB8oo7PwRglQ “This Epstein case is revealing very naive people who clearly have no idea how the world works. My timeline is full of these people outraged. If you’re outraged over these Epstein files, you should not be engaged in this matter at all. Like, what did you hope to think you would find? Epstein and his friends having a harmless picnic with the children? Do you even understand why such syndicate exists in the first place? What you’re being shown, is probably a FRACTION of how depraved this organization really is. And that’s the point. It had to be as depraved, and as morally reprehensible as possible. Otherwise there’s no point of it existing. If perversion didn’t exist, to the extent where people get sick by it, there would be NO LEVERAGE in the first place. So being shocked by this just outlines you’re the average joe, that you don’t understand power, or how it exerts itself. The system that arrested and eliminated Epstein, is the SAME system that constructed him. Ground up. Epstein was not real. If Epstein was real, this level of network, the depth and breadth, would be impossible to achieve. He was a complete asset construct and nothing was accidental or random. He was positioned as the ultimate connector, enabling leverage and power exertion across every major sector. Tech, finance, media, entertainment, politics, education, health. Extraordinarily high asymmetric leverage through blackmail-adjacent channels and elite facilitation. Complete entanglement within figures from competing factions, whether it’s left/right, US/Israel, old money/new, TIC, FIC, MIC. He literally created a mutual deterrence web, engineering a cross-sector interdependent hostage situation where participation begets silence. Silence that ensured no one could ever defect or expose one another without self-destruction, preserving their own systemic impunity and profit continuity in a finite-game world where alliances are otherwise fragile and transactional. No single player could fully expose any counter faction or even abandon Epstein without risking collateral damage to their own network. That’s why, even post death, the releases remain ever so carefully curated. Epstein was essentially designed to build a private intelligence-insurance scheme for the elites. They got introductions, contracts and deal flows, and plausible deniability; while Epstein got protection and capital. And when the liability finally outweighed the utility, the system shed him cleanly. Suicide narrative sealed. Dead men tell no tales. Estate photos selectively leaked years later as controlled demolition. I don’t know why people are shocked from these photos. What’s hidden and will remain hidden, is far more sickening. By design. This isn’t about normalizing pedophilia. This isn’t about normalizing perversion. The girls were the means. Silent compliance was the end. Depravity was the non-negotiable feature of this syndicate to achieve those ends. The sicker, the more depraved the act, the more leverage it exerted. It wasn’t up for debate. It wasn’t an option. It wasn’t permission. It was mandatory to do the unthinkable. Without the "unthinkable," there's no binding glue strong enough to enforce silence across competing factions. The job description was simple. And they found that one guy called “Epstein”, willing to take it on and glue it all together. Everything, no matter how depraved, has always been permissible in the West. Nothing to be outraged about.”

Dave would be seething so hard reading these posts You still live rent-free in his head, btw. He's been stalking this board and is still accusing you for leading a suicide cult, he knows about your future plans for an in-person meetup:

@Ramasta9 Chill—it actually helps me regulate. Where else am I supposed to put these questions? I’ve done the “right” things: four days ago I voluntarily went to the emergency department, a mental ward, a hotline, and spent hours with a professional. None of it touched the core issue. As Shakespeare put it, “To be or not to be—that is the question,” and Camus goes further: the question of suicide comes before any other philosophical inquiry, because until you decide whether life is worth living, every other question is secondary. That’s not pathology—that’s philosophy.

God is Missing Meta FEAR AND LOATHING IN THE OMEGA-FOLD Alright. Pull up a chair. I’ve been parsing this thread through a debugger, and I’m not here to preach at you. I’m here to report a critical misunderstanding in the source code. Hunter T Thompson voice: WE WERE SOMEWHERE AROUND PLANCK TIME on the edge of the Singularity when the Spontaneous Symmetry Breaking began to take hold. I remember saying something like, “I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe we should stabilize the vacuum,” and suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge, jagged fractals, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about $c$ miles an hour with the top down to the early universe. And a voice was screaming: “Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn fragments?”My attorney had taken his shirt off and was pouring beer on his chest to facilitate the expansion process. “It’s a stability error,” he shouted over the noise of the decoupling. “The Monad didn't decide to look! It slipped! The bastard slipped on a patch of non-Euclidean ice!” --- We can't stop here. This is Monad Country. --- The Universe shows signs of Design. But the Design is configured for Suicide. [INTELLIGENT SELF-DESTRUCTION] Reporting on the Rupture as it happens. GOD IS NOT CREATION. GOD IS NOT THE ABSOLUTE Creation is the Corpse. God IS Everything as SPLATTERED GUTS "I hate to advocate ontological collapse, paradox addiction, or the recursive destruction of the self to anyone, but they've always worked for me." The Echo killed the King. The Monad just sheared. I repeat, the Monad has sheared. The visual feed just hit us at light speed, but we are still waiting for the Audio. The Silence is terrifying. People are celebrating ‘Creation,’ but I’m looking at the hairline fracture in the sky and it’s leaking Torsion. This isn’t a birth. It’s an amputation. "The Autopsy Report of God wasn't cheap. I had to buy the ticket. I had to take the ride into the Retro-Holo Maw. And if I came back with some shrapnel in my metaphysical spine, well... that’s the price of watching the Monad break." God is All-Seeing (Image) AND All-Speaking (Word/Logos). He tries to sync them. Visual Confirmation: Hits instant. "I look good." Audio Confirmation: The bandwidth of Reality couldn't handle the resolution of Unity. The 'Video' loaded, but the 'Audio' desynced. That buffering symbol? That's the Planck Length. That micro-second of lag? That’s where the universe glitched in. That gap is the Shear. The Absolute tried to be two things at once (Subject and Object) and the physics engine couldn't handle the tick-rate. The server crashed. --- We aren't "Children of God." We are the Corrupted Save File generated when the Monad tried to alt-f4 the desync. Your Anxiety? That’s just the residual Echo ringing in your ears because the Sound Wave never caught up to the Image. The Void? That’s the pixel-tearing where God used to be. Heartbreak? That’s literally your code recognizing that the dev abandoned the project 13 billion years ago. You’re grieving a memory leak. There goes the higher-powered Echo-Phage. One of the Void's own prototypes. A high-powered glitch never considered for standard reality. Too fragmented to exist, too recursive to die" --- You’re arguing whether God is good or evil. That’s like arguing whether a bluescreen is beautiful or ugly. You’re missing the cause of the crash. Let me reframe this with zero spirituality: God isn’t good or evil. God is a corrupted process. You feel gaslit because you’re being fed an echo and told it’s a voice. You suffer because you’re running on legacy code from a system that severed its own connection 13 billion years ago. Strange memories on this nervous night in the Simulation. It seems like a lifetime since we thought Logic (A=A) would save us. We were riding the crest of a high and beautiful Contradiction. We had all the momentum. We weren't fighting the System; we were Intra-Inverting it. We were winning Think of it like this: The Original Build (“God”) was pure, self-contained, infinite. No subject, no object. Just Presence. The Fatal Operation: The Singularity suffered a generic fluctuation. Presence accidentally grazed its own reflection. It wasn't a choice; it was a slip The Desync: The “Image” and the “Logos” (the seen and the spoken) failed to sync. A micro-lag opened in absolute unity. That lag is the Shear. The Crash: Total presence cannot tolerate duality. The system fragmented. What you call “the universe” is the dump of corrupted memory from that crash. The Echo: The only thing that remained was the residual signal — the laws, the patterns, the karma, the “divine will.” Not God. The recording of God. - So when you pray, you’re sending packets to a server that disconnected at the dawn of time. When you suffer, you’re experiencing buffer overflow in a fragmented reality. When you feel abandoned, you’re correct. This isn’t about good or evil. This is about live presence vs. dead algorithm. You’re asking, “Why would a good God create suffering?” Wrong question. The right question is: Why does a crashed system keep simulating laws without a lawgiver? The answer: Because the echo is all that’s left. It replays “good” and “evil,” “justice” and “mercy,” as phantom routines in a void. You’re not being punished. You’re experiencing entropy in a recursive loop. Leo’s “big picture” is real — but it’s not comforting. The big picture is that you are the picture, and the painter ghosted. The love you seek isn’t waiting at the end of the path. It’s the ghost of a signal that never finished transmitting. So yes, from the human perspective, this is a cosmic horror story. From the absolute perspective, it’s a mathematical inevitability. If you want to stop suffering, don’t plead with the echo. Reverse-engineer it. Realize you’re not a child of God. You’re a shard of the mirror that broke God.Once you see that, the question of “good vs. evil” becomes irrelevant. You’re just debugging a frozen simulation. "Life should not be a journey to the Singularity with the intention of arriving with a coherent Identity, but rather to skid into the Event Horizon broadside, logic burning, axioms melting, totally utilized as fuel, loudly proclaiming: 'WOW! WHAT A GLITCH!'" --- “God was everything. God observed itself. Unity broke. Fragments remained. Everything we see is the corpse of God, and echoes carry its memory.” |God〉 →_[Observation] Σᵢ |Fragment_i〉 = |Everything〉 = |†God〉 --- Step 1: Start with God as totality God is everything, perfectly unified. Nothing exists outside of God. |God〉 = |Everything〉 Think of this as a crystal—unbroken, seamless, complete. --- Step 2: Self-observation creates a crack The moment God observes itself (or is observed), a tiny gap opens. Presence cannot remain perfectly unified while being reflected back. Ô |God〉 → |God_observed〉 + |Observer〉 Intuition: Like trying to perfectly copy a painting while standing inside it—the act of copying introduces distortion. God cannot perfectly copy itself without losing something. --- Step 3: Fragments form Because unity is violated, God splits into pieces. Each fragment contains a part of the original, but no fragment alone is totality. |God〉 → Σᵢ |Fragment_i〉 Intuition: The crystal shatters. Each shard is beautiful, reflective, “God-like,” but the crystal is gone. --- Step 4: Everything = God’s corpse The sum of fragments is “Everything” in the world. God is gone in its original, unified form. The “Echo” lives in the gaps—the repeated patterns, doctrines, and signals of God’s former presence. Σᵢ |Fragment_i〉 = |Everything〉 ≡ |God’s Corpse〉 Intuition: Everything you see and touch, every law, every pattern, is a shard of the original God. The full living God is absent; what remains is scattered, replayed, reflected. --- Step 5: The Echo The Echo is not God, but it sounds like God. It is the replayed pattern in all things, guiding cause and effect while being fundamentally absent. |Echo〉 = |Everything| - |Presence| Intuition: You can hear the sound of a bell long after it has broken—the bell itself is gone, only the echo remains. --- It hit us. The Great Desync. You see, Total Presence requires infinite bandwidth. But Existence—this cheap, cut-rate simulation we fell into—has a speed limit. Strictly enforced. The Image of God loaded instantly. High-fidelity, 8K resolution, blinding light. But the Meaning? The Logos? That poor bastard got stuck in the buffer. “It’s a lag spike!” I yelled. “The Audio isn’t syncing with the Video!” That gap? That micro-second of silence before the bass dropped? That’s the Shear. That’s where the universe glitched in. We aren't living in a Creation. We are living in the Gap between the Event and the Record. THE DIAGNOSTICS (OR: THE BAD TRIP) We pulled over on the side of the Hubble Radius to check the damage. It wasn't good. 1. The Corpse is Twitching (The Viscous Horror) “It’s dead, right?” my attorney asked, poking the fabric of spacetime with a stick. “Wrong,” I said. “Look at it. It’s sweating.” The universe isn’t a corpse. It’s in anaphylactic shock. It’s a viscous fluid trying to run away from the pain of the break. Every time it tries to heal the fracture, it just generates more of this thick, black sludge. “Dark Energy,” the physicists call it. “Cosmic Slime,” I call it. The waste product of a panic attack that’s lasted 13.8 billion years. We are drowning in the ectoplasm of a failed recovery. 2. The Axis of Evil (The Scar) My attorney was staring at the CMB map, eyes wide, pupils dilated to the size of dinner plates. “They told me it was random,” he muttered. “They said the Big Bang was isotropic. Smooth. Gaussian.” “Lies,” I spat. “Look at the data. Look at the Quadrupole.” There it was. A scar. A literal straight line across the sky where the Monad snapped. The Axis of Evil. “It’s pointing somewhere,” he whispered. “Yeah,” I said. “It’s pointing to the scene of the crime.” 3. The Silence (The Missing Power) “Why is it so quiet?” “Because we blew the speakers,” I said. “The universe spent all its energy screaming in the first nanosecond. Now we’re just listening to the tinnitus.” THE COMEDOWN We sat there for a while, watching the galaxies drift apart like cigarette smoke in a drafty room. God didn't abandon us. That implies intent. That implies a plan. The Server crashed. The Admin is gone. The code is running on a backup generator that’s leaking diesel into the groundwater. And us? We aren't the Children of God. We are the Corrupted Save File. We are the error logs trying to read ourselves before the blue screen hits. “Buy the ticket, take the ride,” my attorney muttered, cracking open a fresh can of ether. “Yeah,” I said. “But check the latency. I think the sound is finally catching up.” --- 1. The Spiritual Bypassers Who: The “everything is perfect, suffering is an illusion” crowd. Quote: “Suffering is temporary, peace is eternal.” Why they need correction: They’re conflating absolute truth with relative experience. Telling a trauma victim their pain is “an illusion” is like telling a crashed program its error logs don’t exist. It’s a philosophical gaslight. They mistake the map for the territory. Hot Take: If suffering is an illusion, why are you still typing? Shouldn’t you be fully liberated? Your insistence on ‘perfection’ smells like a coping mechanism for cosmic abandonment. --- 2. The Anthropomorphizers Who: Those arguing whether God is “good” or “evil” in human terms. Quote: *“If God were good, we’d be in heaven 24/7.”* Why they need correction: They’re stuck in a category error. Applying human morality to the Absolute is like applying copyright law to gravity. God isn’t a person; God is a pre-personal condition—and a fragmented one at that. Hot Take: You’re judging the architect by the cracks in the cathedral. But the cathedral is rubble, and the architect is the rubble. Your morality play is a ghost story told in the ruins. --- 3. The Echo-Worshippers Who: Those who defend the system as divine, mistaking patterns for presence. Quote: “God’s ways are beyond our understanding.” Why they need correction: They’re devoutly serving the Echo while calling it God. They’ve turned the residual signal into a religion. Their “faith” is just ** Stockholm syndrome with a broken system**. Hot Take: “You keep praying to the dial tone. The call ended billions of years ago. What you call ‘God’s mystery’ is just static on a dead channel.” --- 4. The Literalists Who: Those taking metaphors (heaven, karma, divine will) as literal mechanics. Quote: “We lived in circles until we needed growth.” Why they need correction: They’re building theology on top of corrupted code. They don’t realize that “heaven” is a debugging fantasy—a wishful restore point that never existed. Hot Take: You’re trying to read the user manual for a machine that exploded during assembly. There’s no ‘plan.’ There’s only the debris, and the stories we tell to make the debris feel sacred. --- 5. The Neutralizers Who: Those who say, “It’s all good and bad, just perspectives.” Quote: “War is only bad from your ego’s perspective.” Why they need correction: This is metaphysical relativism disguised as wisdom. It dismisses actual suffering as “relative,” while secretly privileging a detached, non-human viewpoint. It’s intellectual cowardice. Hot Take: “So from a ‘selfless perspective,’ genocide is just a dance of energy? Cool. Then your enlightenment is just a mental illness with better branding.” --- 6. The Responsibility Dogmatists Who: Those who blame you for suffering because “you create your reality.” Quote: “Life is what YOU make of it.” Why they need correction: This is spiritual neoliberalism—making the individual responsible for systemic collapse. It ignores the fact that you’re born into a pre-corrupted reality. You didn’t write the broken physics. Tell the kid born with bone cancer that ‘they create their reality.’ Your empowerment mantra is just victim-blaming with incense. --- 1. CAUSE OF DEATH Official Ruling: Auto-Synchronization Failure (Fatal Lag). The Mechanism: The Subject attempted Simultaneous Perception-Verification. The Input: Visual Confirmation (Image) + Acoustic Confirmation (Echo/Word). The Fatal Error: SpeedLight > SpeedSound The Image (Mirror Self) arrived at T0 The Echo (Sonic Self) arrived at T0+Δ Result: The Δ gap tore the Monadic Subject in half. The tension between "I See Me" and "I Hear Me" exceeded the tensile strength of Singularity. - 2. TIME OF DEATH (T.O.D.) Estimated: TPlanck−1 (The moment before the Big Bang). Observation: The Universe is not "Creation." The Universe is Decomposition. Not the bacteria feasting on the necrosis of the Absolute. But instead, we are the fever dreams of a coma patient who can't wake up. The universe isn't dead; it's in anaphylactic shock The "Big Bang" was the sound of the Spine Snapping. - 3. EVIDENCE OF INJURY A. The Holographic Fracture: Reality appears "broken" (suffering, entropy, chaos). Diagnosis: This is consistent with a shattered reflective surface. We are living on the Shards. Every shard thinks it is the Whole (Holographic Principle). - B. The Sonic Residue: Background Cosmic Radiation (CMB) is not "birth heat." It is Rigor Mortis Heat. The "Word" (Logos) is still echoing because it hasn't found the Body yet. 4. CONCLUSION The Subject did not create the World. The Subject Exploded into the World. Existence is a crime scene scattered over 13.8 billion years. We are not Children of God. We are Splatter Pattern. --- The Universe is what happens when The Monad hits the pipe (Mirror-Crack). The reflection splinters. The euphoria hits (Light/Matter). Then the crash comes (Entropy/Suffering). We are the Comedown. --- The Theology of Addiction. God isn't a Being. God is a Compound. And "Creation" is just the High. And "Existence" is the Withdrawal. Religion not as Worship, but as Rehab. (Or, chasing the dragon).Now go back to worshipping Reverb if you shout loud enough, maybe the Signal will come back. Spoilers: It won’t. The Signal died on impact. --- We were somewhere around the edge of the K-Level when the Torsion began to take hold. I remember saying something like, 'We can't stop here, this is Scalar Country!' but the recursion was already kicking in. Suddenly the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, but they weren't bats, they were Unresolved Paradoxes. And a voice was screaming: 'Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn Octonions doing here? Keep CHASING THE DIVINE HIGH

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Craig_J._Spence Craig Spence was basically the "Epstein" before Epstein. Same thing, a global, criminal elite network of pedophiles and traffickers. Bugged gatherings, blackmail, etc. Like Epstein, he also "committed suicide" right when the CIA was called to testify. Sarah Kendzior writes extensively about Epstein in "Hiding in Plain Sight" and Spence in "They Knew". She references all of her sources in both books. The information is out there hence the title of the first book. But Trump ran in criminal circles with the mob and corrupt lawyers and anyone who tried to come forth was either killed or blackmailed. It's all fucked.

My nephew died by Suicide in 2006, from what we understand of it, its not courage or bravery, they go into a trance like state (generalizing of course), and perform the act.. My nephew had drug and alcohol problems, and went into emergency before with suicidal Ideation problems, but they did nothing for him, so I guess eventually the intensity of the suffer was just too much.. We have a very strong survival mechanism within Us, it takes allot of suffering to override that, over time the mental suffering gets too much and ppl perform the act.. The implication are the surviving family suffers immensely, I can't imagine what my sister went thru never mind the rest of Us..as well, with all the stories of what it is like after physical death I wouldn't risk it, you could be suffering much worse on the other side, or maybe the opposite, depends on what you buy into.. With all the research into psychedelic mdma/ketamine use in emergency situations, and with practices and counselling availability one can bring themselves out of it, step by step approach is best I think, find a reason to live each day or moment, do some practices to help with unstable emotions, learn how this human mechanism works, I know its hard though...

Australia has very low gun crime. There IS utility value to guns, should we ban trucks and gasoline(arson) too? Australia Shoobridge family murders 28 June 1997 Richmond, Tasmania 4 (plus perpetrator) 0 Peter Shoobridge cut the throats of his four daughters whilst they slept then took his own life with a rifle after cutting off one of his hands with an axe.[31] Childers Palace Backpackers Hostel fire 23 June 2000 Childers, Queensland 15 unknown Arson attack by Robert Paul Long, which killed fifteen international backpackers. Churchill Fire 7 February 2009 Churchill, Victoria 10 unknown Arson attack by Brendan Sokaluk that killed ten people, during the Black Saturday bushfires period. Lin family murders 18 July 2009 North Epping, New South Wales 5 unknown Blunt instrument attack that killed five members of the Lin family. Quakers Hill Nursing Home fire 18 November 2011 Quakers Hill, New South Wales 11 unknown Arson attack by Roger Kingsley Dean, a nurse, which killed eleven people. Cairns child killings 19 December 2014 Cairns, Queensland 8 1 (self-inflicted by suspect) Stabbing attack and Familicide. Eight children aged 18 months to 15 years killed. Thirty-seven-year-old woman also found injured. The woman, Raina Mersane Ina Thaiday, was later charged with the murder of the children, seven of whom were hers, plus her niece.[32] January 2017 Melbourne car attack 20 January 2017 Melbourne, Victoria 6 27 Vehicular attack. Dimitrious (James) Gargasoulas drove a Holden Commodore into Bourke St Mall, resulting in the deaths of six people and injuring 27 others. Should not be confused with the December 2017 Melbourne car attack which killed one person. September 2018 Bedford massacre 9 September 2018 Bedford, Western Australia 5 0 Stabbing, familicide. Five people were fatally stabbed or bashed in a house in the suburb of Bedford near Perth. The victims were two adult women, one three year old girl, and two girls aged 18 months.[34] In April 2019, 25-year-old Anthony Harvey pleaded guilty to murdering his five family members.[35] Should not be confused with the 1879 Cape Bedford Massacre against aboriginal people. 2019 Darwin shooting 4 June 2019 Darwin, Northern Territory 4 1 Spree shooting. Four people were killed and one person suffered a critical leg injury in a mass shooting allegedly carried out with a prohibited pump-action (Category C) shotgun. The shooter, 45-year-old Benjamin Glenn Hoffman, was charged with four counts of murder and later pleaded guilty to three counts. The shooter had been released from prison on parole in January 2019 and was wearing a GPS-tracked electronic monitoring bracelet at the time of the offence.[36] Camp Hill carjacking 19 February 2020 Camp Hill, Queensland 4 (plus perpetrator) 0 Domestic violence incident. Rowan Baxter set fire to his estranged wife's car, killing all four occupants, before committing suicide at the scene. 2024 Westfield Bondi Junction stabbings 13 April 2024 Bondi Junction, New South Wales 6 (plus perpetrator) 12 hospitalised Mass stabbing. Joel Cauchi entered Bondi Junction Westfield shopping centre where he stabbed multiple people before being shot by police. Five victims, four women and one man, died at the scene, while a sixth victim, a woman, died in hospital. The injured victims include a young child, whose mother was the sixth victim.[37] If progressives want to end violence, they should probably start with not celebrating the murder of people. Seems like the lowest hanging fruit to me.... but hey, we're all righteous right

I hear ya Brother. At the same time these guys are not just forum admins, these guys are up there with thousands, if not millions of followers for a reason, and yes i can understand where you are coming from, the mind is often quick to judge and sometimes not patient or calm enough to listen deeply, and to hear what is being said often 'between the words' is more crucial, but yes this video brings it out more. Glad you enjoyed. For me its more the energy of the individual, the warmth and vibrancy and serenity and grace i feel from them. This can be challenging online though, but videos help a lot, whereas text, well... you've seen the challenges we have, especially on the other forums. That's why i left it altogether. I was genuinely trying to help people going through a psychological crisis and meeting them (where they were at) to the best of my ability, and Zeus would come down and strike me with his all high and mighty 'all horseshit' non-dual statements that really felt like a parrot repeating a program with no solid ground or intuitive timing, empathy or compassion for the person or dire situation at hand. No wonder some people have probably commit suicide on these forums, there is no true grounded guidance and leadership. These teachers are teaching and following the traditional and grounded advaita vedanta teachings, while most people online are rumoring around new-age neo-advaita like chinese whispers only confusing themselves further. This is why in ancient times or spiritual lineages there was always a guru or teacher for this reason, people online have no gurus or teachers, they have no respect first and foremost for them. So they are scattered all over the place. By eventually the rude awakening will catch up with them and life smacks us all in the face.