I am trying to write what has happened and is happening to me.  I have written this by myself... for myself.  No one can ever understand what has happened.  So please read it at your own risk.

They used to call me Paranoid Loid. Or at least that’s what I began to call myself at 20 years old due to what CJ told me when I quit college convinced that a suicide bomber left a backpack bomb under the desk in front of me. When I came back to our apartment that day to say I’m not going back he said, “Don’t Be Paranoid Loid!”

That was a funny name to be called. Paranoid Loid. It was a way to have a sense of humor about myself. I knew my mind processed the world differently than other people. I was always depressed and paranoid but never felt that I was suffering.  The voices, the visions, the plots and conspiracies.  The fear that everyone was out to get me.  These all remained in the corners of my mind and just to the edge of the visible world.  It was controllable.  Part of my quirky personality.  Friends would laugh with me about it. 

I traveled around the world and forgot I was at the center of a plot, surrounded by Agents of The Conspiracy, while working remotely for a woman I imagined as the spiritual heir to Schrödinger, at her company called SUPERPOSITION. We worked and communicated at near the speed of light from opposite sides of the planet. With her near the beach in Los Angeles, and me on a beach in Italy. And like the cat in the box, I found myself entangled in a state of uncertainty until I was observed… both alive and dead simultaneously.

Where to begin?

From my Los Angeles suburb as a kid with my dad saying while driving us around “THEY are following us” and informing me that “Our television has a camera and microphone always listening and watching us” in the 1970s!  To The Actor in Argentina, with The Black Cat connection to the Buenos Aires terrorist attack, who got themself deported. To living off the grid building a house with my hands, with CJ in Topanga Canyon around the turn of the millennium, only to lose this home the moment it was completed. To The Actor in Italy and the meaning of love lost because of the vision of The Technological Singularity on the 24th floor of The Tower by the Adriatic sea. Finally exiled by everyone to rot in The Desert Wasteland. That was where all the young Anjuna Agents in training, dragging me around to raves and music festivals, tranced me into having apocalyptic visions.  I was convinced that if I could get the visions out of my head and into art it would be healing. 

The best thing about living in a foreign country is that you always feel like a child.  If you concentrate you can decipher what everyone is saying. If you let your mind wander it all becomes beautiful noise from trustworthy people (especially with Castellano and Italiano).  Everyone is good. Current events are trivial. There is no enemy. All is love.  

They always said I was naive. I wanted to prove everyone wrong. Love had to be real. It wasn't just the nice way to describe people using each other to get what they wanted.  Love used to mean something. Now love is just a ❤️ heart shaped button on an app to record an information relationship between you and these words. 

The Infinite Melting Hotel Room in Amsterdam / April 2006

Everything changed in Amsterdam. I was paranoid my whole life but I had never done a drug and I wasn't crazy.  

I wasn't crazy.  

There needs to be better warnings that having your first psychedelic experience, for someone like me, is dangerous without professional psychological supervision.  The past years since that first trip in April 2006 I have been chasing after meaning to what I experienced in that tiny hotel room. 

Sometimes I’m convinced, for a moment, that I’m still within The Infinite Melting Hotel Room in Amsterdam and all of reality since then is an illusion.

I was 34 years old and had never tried any psychedelic or mind altering drug in my life up to that point, rarely even drinking alcohol. Nothing that I had read on the subject of psychedelics or The Psychedelic Experience before the trip could have prepared me for what happened in that small hotel room.  

I convinced myself that going to Amsterdam I would have a once in a lifetime opportunity to have an experience that was illegal in most of the world. All my online research before the trip clearly indicated that Psilocybin Mushrooms were the safest, non-toxic substance with greatest perception altering effects.  They were sold openly in various shops around the city of Amsterdam. 

I wasn't in that hotel room for a few hours or days...   it was forever and ever and everything. The more I tried to understand what happened the further I got from who I used to be and further away from anything resembling reality.  

I don't blame the mushrooms. I don’t blame Agent K for overdosing me in front of all the Agents behind the hotel room’s mirror wall. I don’t blame The Conspiracy. 

I was not ready. How could anyone ever prepare to exist forever as the eternal consciousness of the universe?

It pushed me too far and it became impossible for me to find a way back.  Not a day goes by that I don't have the paranoid thought…  I'm STILL in that melting hotel room.  Everything since then feels like a hallucination inside that forever room.  I've been on an endless trip where everything is possible and nothing is necessary.

Then in this state of confusion I did something careless.    I did 2 things that sent paranoid shock waves rippling through time and space…


1) I stopped paying Taxes. Not on purpose. I simply forgot. With the weight of the human race on my shoulders it seemed like something unimportant and trivial. It was something I could deal with in the future after I had figured out the meaning of life, love and everything. If the conspiracy to entrap me is true or false doesn't matter anymore. The government caught me after 6 years and the paranoid guilt was nuclear in its destructive force.  There are 2 things in this life that are unavoidable... Death and Taxes. Neither are real but the machine of reality uses both as variables to balance equations, in my case, equaling years and years of wage garnishments and shame.


2) After 7 years traveling between USA and Italy, on that last trip it was almost a year before I realized I was an illegal alien in Italy. Not on purpose. I simply forgot. There was absolute fear under the constant paranoid threat of deportation. It broke me completely. It took me 3 years to finally get on a plane and risk everything. All the Italian Agents eventually conspired to make sure I had no other option but to leave The Skyscraper of Rimini (Where I had the vision of The Technological Singularity) and go through customs to get on a plane back to Los Angeles.   

Return to USA / 2009- 2012

The past 4 years since returning to USA has been the worst I've ever been.  Constant, unrelenting paranoia with only short periods of feeling good.  Sometimes I can go days or weeks where everything feels fine.  There are good days where I  can relate to the world and make myself understood.  Then something occurs.  A trigger.  A random day I will walk outside and it happens...  

THEY are suddenly everywhere. Familiar and frightening.  Always out to get me.  They watch me.  They follow and film me. Listening, whispering and laughing at me.  They are always on the verge of attack. They’re around every corner and behind every door. 

Then everyone I know starts to change.  It feels like the people in my life are one by one replaced with stunt doubles... mean clones.  They look the same but their eyes are different.  Their actions all become similar... sinister.  All with the same mission.  They will torture, kill me or they will do something bad and set me up to take the blame. THEY all poke holes in reality until I cannot speak, or eat or walk outside. I forget to shower and brush my teeth.  Forget to change my clothes.  Everything becomes unreal and unnecessary.  I stay inside.  I lose myself in work and the stream of internet information.  When I do force myself to go out everything feels scripted.  Everyone, even strangers all look familiar. Everyone has hidden motivation.  I can feel everyone's emotions streaming through me. It's like being in a constant state of deja'vu.  Everything has already happened and I'm moving through it like a laser reading a CD.

Then it starts to escalate. I know the signs but by this point it all feels too real to ignore.  Words and images random from many sources punch me in the gut.  My mind begins to uncontrollably construct stories.  An image from TV gets mixed with a song lyric from the day before. Then that all blends with some horrific news story and something random from a science website and suddenly the plot comes together hitting me in the head... 

Bam!  The visions/hallucinations/delusions all become real...


(...and the world is ending today because someone got shot on TV yesterday after biting off another man’s face naked on a freeway which is connected to some theory of the formation of black holes that I heard on a podcast… and on some website an impossible artifact was found in an archeological dig… which all points to the obvious conclusion that I'm a messiah clone reincarnated from beings from some other dimension and because I've just figured all this out a star will explode and destroy all life on Earth and my soul will have to wander a dead planet for a hundred million years until the cycle can repeat again...) - a delusion example that might last days or weeks.


Then like a storm it passes.  All this nonsense disappears and I can almost laugh about it.  Weeks of my life have just been wasted in isolation and terror.  I'm alive but I have not been living.

After an episode passes everything feels okay for a while.  It is in these moments that I'm most in denial.  It feels like I'll be fine from now on. Why do I need help? I just beat the demons and it feels like the past few bad weeks could never return.  They do return eventually.  The cycle repeats.  The cycle is destroying my life.  It has taken away everyone I  love.  I have lost everything I cared about. I have almost    lost hope.  Feels like everyone has lost hope for me.  No one cares.  Why do I still care?

The End of the World / December 2012

Last year it got out of control and I ended up in a mental hospital for 2 weeks.  

It was 2012 and for years there had been predictions of the end of the world. From the Mayan Calendar to Terrance McKenna’s Time Wave Zero and everything in between: the winter solstice December 21st 2012 was the predicted date.

All year I couldn't shake these 2 very specific vivid apocalyptic visions out of my head. By summer I had painted one of the visions in a series of acrylic paintings on canvases of various sizes. My 2012 apocalyptic visions were different than any conspiracy I’d ever heard of before.

First:  I kept seeing massive nuclear explosions completely destroying The Desert Wasteland. One detonates downtown, one at the airport and to the north and south. Killing millions and plunging the country into a dystopian nightmare when a dictator will say only a great wall surrounding the country could’ve protected us from the terrorists who smuggled the nukes across the border.  

Second: All year everywhere I went, as I walked around city centers, I saw with X-ray vision that at the top of every skyscraper was a room containing a large peculiar metallic box. Somehow I knew the boxes were being activated due to the sun’s increased energy output during the Solar Maximum which occurs about every 11 years. The taller the skyscraper the bigger and better the box. That vision made skyscrapers make sense to me.

2012 was entering the Solar Maximum and it is all connected in an overly complex and convoluted vast multi dimensional conspiracy where THEY use the time travel boxes to send themselves information about the future every 11 years from 11 years in the future. THEY know everything that’s going to happen before it happens and that gives them their power. THEY know what I’m going to do before I’ve done it!

By December 2012 I was experiencing extreme insomnia.  After about a week of not sleeping I was hallucinating badly.  Hallucinating?  It was so vivid and real! It was happening all around me and before my very eyes.  Laying in bed after midnight I would see the brightest flash of light imaginable from outside all the windows illuminating the apartment… and then a huge explosion from the nuclear blast hitting downtown causing the roof to collapse on top of me. 

At a certain point I was trying to protect the Anjuna Agent from monsters coming out of the infinity mirror effect created between the bedroom and bathroom door mirrors. I thought if I made enough noise the monsters would disappear and I could save them. I ran naked into the cold dark courtyard of The Forest of Abandoned Cats screaming out loud something crazy that I dare not say now.  The monsters vanished but the police came out of the shadows. What happened next was completely insane and then right after that in the emergency room of St. Joe’s hospital 3 blocks away occurred something unexplainable… something impossible. 

The world actually ended on December 18th, 2012 almost precisely as predicted. The Solar Maximum son exploded and the world ended as all the shapeshifting Liquid Metal Artificial Super Intelligent Entities poured out of all the time travel boxes at the tops of every skyscraper from 11 years in the future. THEY assimilated 99% of the population of the planet leaving only a few candidates like me for observation and experimentation.

THEY are the result of The Technological Singularity that has been predicted to occur between the 2030s and 2040s. 

If they are not here now then could I have witnessed a future event in real time? Maybe this will happen during the Solar Maximum in the 2020s… or 2030s?

There’s always this 50/50 chance that these are not hallucinations but rather what I’m seeing, hearing and feeling is actually happening in the future or parallel dimensions. 

I want to believe my body resides in the dimension of love, family and friendships. Too often I find myself in The Dark Dimension where love is just the nice way to describe how people use each other to get what they want and everyone is an Agent of The Conspiracy… consciously or subconsciously.

Next I awoke in a mental hospital.  It was Christmas time and I was in a mental hospital surrounded by scary, sad and confused people. Unreality was layered upon unreality.  Illusions reflecting illusions. What had just happened? Was any of it real? Did I witness something that was actually happening somewhere at sometime? Are THEY really here?

After about 2 weeks the mental hospital released me giving me 2 medications with 1 refill: Abilify (antipsychotic) and Wellbutrin (antidepressant).  I took them for a month then got the refill and put them in my medicine cabinet. At the time I had no clear memory of what had happened and I didn’t feel psychotic or depressed. I was in denial.

Since the mental hospital last December I have not been myself.  I have been observing the chaos of information and the stimulation of the simulation.  I've been searching for patterns.  I've tried unsuccessfully to find meaning. 

I have made many mistakes and avoided seeking help for my illness.  If I'm unable to successfully interact with society then it must be an illness. I would never have chosen this lonely battle for my heart, mind and soul. 

Last month, after 2 1/2 years together, the Anjuna Agent was removed from my case. Leaving me completely alone to fend on my own.  I’m just another abandoned cat in this forest trap of The Desert Wasteland. 

Now 11 months later it is all happening again. Apocalyptic visions keeping me awake. Liquid Metal Terminators walking down the streets. Agents following me. Agents at my front door. Agents everywhere. 

There are 9 eyes on apartment number 9.

Seeking Profressional Help / Novemeber 2013

The past 2 weeks I’ve started taking the month supply of what I had kept of those medications the mental hospital gave me. I’m no longer in denial that something is terribly wrong with my world. There’s always this 50/50 chance that The Conspiracy is all in my head.

I have tried for the past week to get help. So many hospitals and waiting rooms. A psychotic breakdown that lasts for a whole month cannot be good.  Maybe a doctor can find the correct medication that will stop this. I've avoided doctors and medication my whole life because I could not accept that my brain was broken. It's probably just impossible to get help during a schizophrenic episode. The doctors and hospitals all become part of the plot to set me up, torture and kill me.  It feels like the hospital has to be cruel to me just to provoke an extreme reaction.  It's like a game to them to break my soul and erase all hope.  

Feels like everyone this past month and year has been stepping on my face and pushing me down. Everyone holding their breath and hoping for me to make a mistake that can be used against me. They are calculating every action and non-action in order to place me in a convenient category.  

The loneliness hurts. Feeling alone at the edge of the universe with no one left but my mom to tell me that everything will be OK.

I want to believe that I can get my life back.  I am not dangerous to anyone except maybe alone by myself.  

Was I delusional to think I could help myself alone by creating art to get these visions out of my head?

I have just lost someone I loved again.  I thought by helping them I could help myself.  I still can not understand what has happened. I've lost so many people and a whole country that I loved. This current hallucination is unending and exaggeratedly cruel.

All I know is that The Technological Singularity is coming and I saw it!

If love is real, I love you.  All of you. ❤️‍🩹