Within the Illuminati, we’re “trauma bonded” to a counterpart. The other person is a mirror, we call them our “twin.” This teaches us that love and pain are equal. Satanism expects everything to be upside down. Have you heard of the phrase “kill for love?” They force us as children to drown one another, then to resuscitate. We hug each other after. Our lives are in each other’s palms. We inhale and exhale out of shared lungs. Half of them are inserted in my mind. This sets the stage for our planned lives, as “twins.” Love & Hate. Our assignments are conjoined. One child sleeps with a German pedophile: the other child hears his story asynchronously. We whisper secrets that only Christ could forgive. There are sets of twins that work as groups. We were trained at MI6’s “greenhouse,” with another set of English “twins.” Sometimes we would share each other in sexual trysts. You learn to be realistic with expectations within Satanic cults, everyone is out for themselves. Our souls and minds work together in unison. Alters are activated by restoring ancient trauma within the blood. Epigenetics restores the love that should have dispersed into the black sea. We’ve been through Hell together. I use to hate her for being too narcissistic, I’m happy that she’s alive.
This began mid – 2014, and still lasts in some form or another (much to my dismay) to the present day mid – 2019. Whilst I was living with my flatmate the aforementioned MK Ultra victim Adam (psychedsubstance), I conveniently found a job across the street working as a customer service representative (a euphemism for an office slave) for Concentrix: which is another cult trafficking center for Illuminati slaves. During the first week of indoctrination we were being programmed with white-collar, trans-global, corporate gibberish, which interestingly seemed to keep me in a state of mild trance. The wonderful discovery that this company is actually a programming center, implies that the corporate labor is being used as another tool to complement the MK Ultra mind control. On the last day of “training” I spotted my female counterpart: 5’9, Brunette, NZ European, stunning, charismatic and completely untrustworthy. I had the infamous “déjà vu” experience of observing another member of the cult, who we’re already smitten with in the after hours (multiple personalities) aka: “I KNOW THAT PERSON!” This is not the first or last time I’ve experienced the feeling of already “knowing a person” which happens all the time when meeting Illuminati members during the day – however I knew it was serious this time.
So once the training ended, we had time to make our self comfortable with the surroundings (a prison designed by IKEA), have friendly relations, pretend that we actually cared about any of this. I used the most politically correct mask I could: just enough to contain my writhing hatred of anything that contained an order that isn’t “you must drink this beer now.” So like good little Lemmings, we speak into a phone, some middle aged motherly type complains that her Bejeweled app doesn’t let her buy the pink unicorn skin, and I tell her in the most considerate way possible, that perhaps she should burn the phone, discard it and grow a garden instead (that never happened). I would sit there for thirty minutes repeating the phrase “have you switched it on and off” ad infinitum, until they got bored or I could transfer the call to someone slightly less antagonistic (this kind of happened). Anyway enough of this nonsense. I had one handler at this job, Mr Andrew Lancaster, I found this fact out recently after deprogramming. It’s interesting to note there’s a good chance he was a trainer for Mixed Martial Arts superstar Conor Mcgregor, don’t quote me on it – just a hunch. Now you might ask, why would the Illuminati have such a prestigious handler working in a dead-end job when he could be mingling with the rich and famous? I don’t know, they like doing weird shit like that, they put masterful programmers in crack houses to handle no-name Illuminati victims who just exited half-way houses, I don’t understand why, but they like to have everywhere covered. The Grand Old Order likes to keep there minions in high places, and the alleyways: total control, a vice-grip, R-Complex, Nano-infested approach for the grand game of human farming.
The whole point of this Illuminati front company and this specific operation, was to get me and my female counterpart together in a romantic relationship; that was the entirety of Andrew Lancaster’s job, as well as my counterparts handler Laura Allison. This was to be done using our BETA alters, which are naturally used to seducing each other. In fact I know with certainty that Laura used a trigger phase “she’s on the prowl” whilst chatting nonchalantly about the unbelievable chemistry between me and my familiar (I’m exaggerating slightly -👍), which is simply a way of priming BETAS who see themselves typically as cats. We were already lovers during the night, our “evening” alters maintained a close, intimate bond. Everything going to plan, our midnight escapades were to extend into the daily hours, albeit in our host personalities. Her position at the job was similar to a minor management position. She would spend fifteen minutes monitoring a live call that a staff member was engaged in, and give a rating depending on some rubbish criteria made from some middle-management team in Singapore: the type who have to make unnecessary rules to justify the company “strippers and coke” binge at the end of the year. The senior management (handlers) made sure that every live call I did was with her, this was for bonding, rapport and to begin an intimate relationship…they wanted us fucking each other in a couple of weeks. I mentioned beforehand I have BETA alters, she also has BETA alters, so everyone of our interactions was simply a combatant form of seduction and manipulation, as per rule of the BETA code of turning everything into sex. This was hilarious at the time, because it was done almost entirely in a politically correct manner; the logic was, we should probably sleep together, but pretend everything we were saying was the opposite – awkward, subtly sexual, office jeering. I know as men we have a tendency to create romantic fantasies when there’s no plausible reason to do so, we manipulate a discrete glance of disinterest into an overt, sexual gesture – a nod of the head here, a twist of the hair and we think an ordinarily stuck-up woman now wants to bear our fourth child. We’ve all been guilty of this, however this woman couldn’t of made it more obvious what she wanted if my entire experience of romantic liaisons up to that point, was a sexual education pamphlet and the lingerie section of the local Walmart. In a brazenly primal gesture, at one point she literally came into my office space (open office by the way), pressed her stomach into the nearest shelf, arched her back, and had made sure I could clearly see her ass in full view (Distracting, in a good way). I’ve noticed women do this when they get bored of the talking and want to speed things up, almost a biological safety check to make sure they’ve found an actual member of the opposite sex “hurry up my man – you’ve done a fine job so far, you’ve managed to pass the test of being a suitable candidate for potentially risking child birth, now pick up the pace.” This was the female equivalent of saying “you must of been dropped as a child, if you don’t know what this means.”
As things started to ramp up, my enthusiasm for the job went from a stale acceptance of office drudgery, to a maddeningly, seething despair of corporate slavery; especially in contrast to my weekends which were “Dimethyltryptamine, fuck it, lets destroy our identities and remake them into etheric, cosmic, solar stars and traverse the multiverse.” I was starting to not be able to control what was happening with this girl. I found that out that the only reason I was attending this place, was because of her – I had, in an uncharacteristically, office-basic-bitch, lapdog, bemusedly pathetic way….fallen in love with her. I never do this, I don’t care how beautiful the woman is, how entertaining, seductive or charming, I would never love someone before sleeping with them: technically we already had, hidden through the expert use of drugs, amnesia and Dissociative Identity Disorder – this is my pride speaking. So of course I did my typical thing, when I feel like I’ve lost any form of personal power and handed it over to another, I sabotaged any real way of turning this into anything more than verbal, I quit the job and left the city. Yes, that’s what I do, usually in a dramatic fashion, anytime I feel anything resembling this weak emotion called love for anyone other than myself, I rejected it. I’m sure she thought, “good riddance, why waste time with such a wishy-washy idiot anyway, plenty of more decisive men in the gene-pool” – and she would be right. Now please understand, in the grand scheme of things I actually did the right thing. I did love this women, I was supposed to love her, we already loved each other at night, since we were children. However, I also felt genuine fear around her, guttural, and instinctual, and this emotion was well-founded; this was a warning from my subconscious that this wasn’t going to turn out well – insert story of Odysseus and the Siren. As I mentioned during the introduction, we are “trauma” bonded, that is we’ve done an incredible amount of abuse to each other within the cult environment: stabbed each other, tortured each other, humiliated each other – this is standard protocol within Satanic cults. Pain and love is the same thing within the Illuminati, that is the foundation of how our relationship was formed. Would it of been a wise idea to commit to a blatantly engineered relationship, where torture and intimacy is the same thing? Well the Illuminati seem to think so, as they’ve arranged a five year campaign to finalize the union between me and her; they’ve even resorted to paying her host persona (day personality) to reengage the relationship at a later date, incredibly desperate on their behalf, I will go into that later. There are two more parts to this story , the next part is where a supernatural element becomes a key factor (this is through the use of technology and black magic), and the last part involves an expert use of dissociation, and the creation of a “honeypot” environment – aka, using a controlled environment that mimics the real world, but is used almost entirely for a designed purpose.