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I’ve Lived And Worked In L.A. I've Stayed At The Standard Hotel. I've Spent Late Nights At Chateau Marmont. I've Visited Ground Zero. I Was In N.Y. Barry's '08 Election Night. I've Seen Les Paul At The Iridium, Had A Chat. Oh, And I've Been To Kiev, Seen The Corruption Up Close.
The 'Moment' For Me Where Everything Changed Was The Jets Hitting The World Trade Center, Watched Live With Friends In L.A. As The Second Jet Hit. What I Found Utterly Peculiar Was That Before I Even Got Out Of The Shower That Morning, Osama Bin Laden [Tim Osman] Was The Culprit.
At That Time I Had No Idea That Much Of The Media Was So Corrupt And So Brilliantly 'Clown' Controlled. Yes, We Should Give [Them] Some Credit For Building The Worlds Most Intricate And Grandest Networks Of Mind Manipulation And Deception Ever Created.

It Was Not Until 'Q' Dropped About 'The Standard' Hotel, That I Realized Why There Was Oils, Lotions, CDs, And A Teddy Bear On The Night Stand In The Room.

Creeps Me Out. Damn.

Wish I Could Tell You All Who I Met In The Hotel's 24 Hour Restaurant Early One Morning.
Feel Fortunate Not Have Been Caught Up In Hollywood's Web Of Deception, Lies And Blackmail. Did Enjoy The Learning Process, Earned The Respect Of 'Interesting' Characters, Was Told Insane Stories That I Struggled To Comprehend.

Now Though, It All Makes Perfect Sense.
As For Ukraine, We Acquired Skills In Discretely Bribing Military Officials To Cross The Border From Poland, And Bribing Police Officers To Get Out Of Serious Speeding Tickets, Since No One Seemed To Care About The Speed Limits At All.
At The Border Crossing Excited Children Ran Up To My Car Window, Shouting Russian. Their Job Was To Sell Us A Better Spot In The Queue, Save Us Hours Of Waiting.

A Black Mercedes' Was Blocking The Lane, And It Didn't Move Unless The Children Were Paid. Obvious Mafia Scheme.
To Cross The Actual Military Check Point Beyond The ‘Free Zone’ Bridge, We’d Put Two Nicely Folded $20 Bills Inside Our Passports In Such A Way They Were Very Hard To Spot.

Strangely, Something Didn't Add Up With My Passport, Still Not Sure Today What It Was, I Was Pulled Aside.
For An Hour And A Half I Was Held By Armed Military Officers At A Table To The Side Of The Lanes. Other Officers Were Eagerly Going Through Everything In Our Car.

Realizing They Weren't Going To Get More Dollars Out Of Me, The Officers Finally Let Me Go.
Bribing Ukraine Military Officers Is Probably One Of The Scariest And Most Intimidating Experiences I've Ever Had.
Right After We Crossed The Border In To Ukraine There Were Cars Stopped Along The Road With Hoods Popped, And Men Waving Their Arms For Us To Stop And 'Help'.

I Didn't Stop.

Had We Stopped, We'd Be Robbed Of Everything At Gunpoint, The Loot Shared With The Local Police.
As We Got To Kiev I Was Immediately Told The FSB Knew We Were There By Our Contact, A Police Lieutenant, A Tough Woman We Met With Regularly And Who Provided Reassurance That We Wouldn’t Have Any Trouble Being There Doing Our Jobs, At Least At The Orphanage.
To Earn The Children's Trust, The First Morning At The Orphanage I Sat Down On The Ground Outside The Main Entrance With A Video Camera, Flipped The Screen Around And Started Filming Myself, Not Them.
Before I Knew It I Had Children Hanging Around My Neck, Leaning On Me To View The Screen And See Themselves Hanging Over My Shoulders. They Loved It. Trust Was Built.
As Soon As The Trust Was Built, The Children Would Not Leave Us Alone. The Abuse, Homeless And Alone, And The Lack Of Love They've Had In Their Short Life, They Used Every Moment To Get Our Attention, Attention From Someone Completely Harmless.
Spent Many Days With The Children, Listened To Them, Talked To Them, Photographed Them, Let Them Photograph Me With My Cameras. They Enjoyed That.

A Rep. From The Orphanage Was With Us At All Times. There Was A Young Boy, Oleg, Who Had A British Mother Who Translated For Us.
The Police Lieutenant Spoke English. Some Of The Graphic Stories She Told Me About The Mafia And How They Abuse And Exploit Homeless Children In Kiev, Would Make You Throw Up, And Stop Appreciating Life.
What I Experienced In Ukraine Changed Me. It Still Affects Me Today. Some Images Are Burned Into My Retina And Cannot Be Erased. Some Children's Faces I'll Never Forget.

One Night At The Orphanage I Sat In My Room With My Assistant And Wept For Hours. Couldn't Hold Back.
It Did Actually Cross My Mind That I’d Disappear One Night From My Room At The Orphanage For Being Intrusive, Even Though We Had Our Invitation And Permits In Order. Probably Not To Get Rid Of Me, But To Intimidate Me, Get Some Information, Or Try To Recruit Me. Who Knows.
The Bottom Line Is This... The Mafia Controls The Border Hand In Hand With The Local Police. The Military Doesn’t Interfere With The Local Police, And Lets The Mafia Continue The Cash Flow, Every Car, Every Truck, Anything That Wants To Cross In To Ukraine From Poland.
Part Of A Guard's Salary Is The Equally Shared Bribes From A Shift. They Could Not Survive On A Government Salary Alone. This Corruption Is Allowed To Operate So That The Corruption At Much Higher Levels Of Society Can Go 'Unnoticed'.
Much Has Changed In The Ukraine Since I Was There, Much Has Not. However, I Am Convinced President Zelensky Is Sincere In His Efforts To Root Out The Corruption. Zelensky Is Clever, And With U.S. On His Side, He Will Make A Difference.
With The Combined Experiences I Had In Kiev And L.A., I Knew I Had To Be In This Fight With 'Q', Trump, And You.

Wanted To Give You All Some Background, Some Of The Reasons I've Thrown Myself Into This Fight In The First Place, And Answer A Few Concerns About My Sincerity.
As The Storm Intensifies, This Account Will Continue. I'll Throw In A Story From Time To Time, Hope You Don't Mind.

Thank You For Listening, And Thank You For Sharing My Work.

I Owe You All.
At The Time I Was Writing This Thread I Wasn't Sure What I Should Tell You, And What To Leave Out. My Name Is Still On The Books Associated With The Trip To The Kiev Orphanage.

As 'The Storm' Blows Over I'll Post Some Images Of The Trip And The Innocent, Ruined Children I Met.
There Were Fifty Children Attending Classes Five Days A Week At The Christian Orphanage. Obviously They Struggled More Than Regular Students Considering Their Horrible, Abusive Past.

The Orphanage Was Purely Run By Donations, Particularly From Canada And Some From The U.S.
There Was No State Funding At All. On Several Occasions Private And Church Donations Were Personally Delivered By The Canadians To The Orphanage Administration For Safety Reasons. Still A Lot Of The Money Simply Disappeared.
We Were Told An Army General Who At One Point Ran The Orphanage, Received $200.000.- CAD To Fix Up The Buildings, Purchase Material For Classes, Food Supplies, And Pay The Dedicated Staff. Donations Did Come Though, But The Corrupt General Disappeared With Every Single Dollar.
On A Happy Note, As I Noticed The Majot Shortage School Material And Simple Supplies. I Brought My Security And Travelled To A Local Market That Sold School Books, Pencils, Rulers, Colouring Books, Colouring Pencils And Other Important Items.
We Emptied Almost Every Booth, More Than Enough School Supplies For All Fifty Students.After Supper One Evening The Teachers Gathered All The Children In The Main Room. They Had No Idea What Was About To Happen, But We Could Sense They Were Exited.
As We Brough In Several Cardboard Boxes Full Of School Supplies, The Room Erupted. Children Were Crying, Clutching Their New Colouring Books And Colouring Pencils. A Young Boy Rushed Up To Me And Showed Me His New Wood Ruler And His Pencils, With A Huge Smile. Some Hugged Me.
The Teachers Were In Tears Watching The Faces Of The Children Being So Excited, Finally Having The Tools And Opportunity To Teach Better.

I Spent A Total Of $1100.- USD To Cover The Cost Of The School Supplies. Worth Every Dollar.
The Tiny Investment Was Certainly Another One Of Those Amazing Moments I Will Carry With Me For The Rest Of My Life.
There Was Also A Separate Part Of The Orphanage, A Second Floor, That Housed Hardened Criminals Who Had Found God, And 'Hiding' From Their Earlier Life In Fear Of Retaliation From Their 'Employer'... The Mafia.
The Men Were Cold Blooded Hitmen, Murderers, Rapists, Human Traffickers And Child Sex Traffickers.

Only A Few Of These Men Wanted To Talk To Me. One Evening I Was Invited To A Session In The Orphanage's Upstairs Prayer Room With These Men.
The Conversations Were Translated To Me As They Were Telling Their Stories. The Unimaginable Horror Stories They Described, It Was Extremely Hard Not Become Emotional.

They Told Stories Of How Easy It Was To Snatch Children And Sell Them To People With Evil Intentions.
If You Desired A Child For Pleasure And Abuse, USD Was The Way To Get Excactly That.

I Do Not Believe All These Men Were Born Evil. The Hardship, No Work, No Money, No Food, So The Chance Of Feeding Their Own Family, Made Them Susceptible To The Pressure To Join The Mafia.
Once You're In, There Is Very Little Chance Of Ever Leaving That Life Behind. It Was Easy To See The Men Struggling With What They Had Done. You Could Also Sense That They Had Deep Regrets.
And As The Police Liutenant Had Told Us Previously, Child Sex Trafficing Was A Huge Part Of It. They'd Steal Children And Sell Them For Huge Profit.

One Horrific Story Stuck With Me Was A Homeless Young Boy, Maybe Eight Or Nine Years Old, Who Slept In A Park.
Three Policemen Entered The Park A Cold Winter Night. They Found A Glue Sniffing Boy Sleeping. What They Proceeded To Do To This Young Child Is Incomprehensible.
The Three Policemen Brutally Raped And Sodomised The Child. When They Were Done They Carried His Limp, Beaten And Sodomised Body To A Bridge In The Park And Threw The Boy In to The Icy Waters Below.
It's A Pure Miracle That The Young Boy Survived. He Was Pulled From The Icy Water By Children Who Lived In The Sewers Systems Along The River.

The Police Liutenant Showed Me Photos Of Some Of The Children As They Were Found In The Sewer System.
One Photo Showed Children Sleeping On Top Of The Sewer Pipes, As It Was Constantly Flowing With Piss And Sh*t And Didn't Freeze Up In The Winter.

Most Of The Children At The Orphanage Were Rescued From Sewers, Parks, And Under Railway Stations. All Severely Abused.
Poverty Even Made Parents Sell Their Children To The Mafia To Be Able To Buy Drugs And Alcohol.

The Official Number Of Children Living Under These Horrible Conditions In Kiev Were Fifty Thousand. We Were Told The Unofficial Number Was Way Over One Hundred Thousand.
I Wanted To Go Down In The Sewer System And See For Myself. I Was Not Allowed To Go Down With The Police Officers Supervised By The Lieutenant And Representatives From The Orphanage.

We Were Told The Mafia Had Eyes Everywhere, And It Was Unwise To Be Seen In Those Circumstances.
At That Point The Lieutenant Feared For Our Lives, And Retribution Towards The Orphanage.

As I Mentioned FSB Knew We Were There. We Were Also Told The Mafia Knew As Well, And Watching Us.
The Police Did Show Us Countless Photographs From The Sewer Rescues. It Completely Broke My Already Fragile Heart. Photographs Showed The Children's Legs Infected With Wounds From Rats Biting Them As They Slept.
The Reason They Managed To Sleep At All Was The Fact That They All Sniffed Heavy Clue. Many Of The Children Had A Rag With Glue That They Inhaled From. The Glue Sniffing Supposedly Numbed Them And Took Away The Feeling Of Hunger.
As A Few Children Were Brought To The Orphanage After A Sewer Rescue, The Children's Eyes Were Empty. No Expression. No Feeling. They Were Completely Numb To Their Surroundings, And Had A Real Hard Time Trusting Anyone, Regardless.
This Might Sound Peculiar To Many, But I Somehow Feel Blessed To Have Experienced Such Evil Up Close. I Honestly Believe That Without These Experiences, I'd Be Completely Lost. It Was Necessary For Me To See This Evil, To Feel It.
We Are Inconceivable Fortunate To Live In Parts Of The World Were We Are Afforded Opportunities. Cherish It! Too Many Inhabitants Of This Gorgeous Blue Marble Are Unfortunately Not Afforded Those Same Opportunities.
The Most Heartbreaking And Sobering Aspect Of This Insane Evil Is That It Is By Design. I Sincerely Believe We Could've Taken Care Of Our 'Home' And All Its Inhabitants Centuries Ago, But A Handful Of Bloodline Families Did Not Want This To Happen. [They] Still Don't.
Instead We've Been Brainwashed Into Believing That This Is Simply How Evil 'The World' Is.

It's So Pertinent To Understand That 'Fake News' Is Not A New Concept. We've Always Been Lied To, And Dissent Swiftly Dealt With.
What Is Humanity? Do WE Possess It? Yes, I Certainly Believe We Do. Personally, I'd Rather Feel The Pain And Sorrow Of What I've Seen And Experienced, Pushing Me To My Limits, Than Not Knowing At All, And Living A So-Called Carefree Life.
I Deeply Regret This Is Not The Average Twitter Account That Enthusiastically Interacts With Followers, DMs And Comments At Every Chance. That Is Simply Not The Reason Why I Am Here.
If My Horrible Experiences Can Put Your Life In Perspective, Or Strengthen Your Humanity In Some Way, I'd Be More Than Satisfied.

I'd Like To End This Thread With A Story Of A Young Boy I Once Met At A Train Station.
Four Years Ago I Travelled To New Delhi, India. As I Waited To Board A Train To Go Up North To A City Not Far From The Stunningly Beautiful Himalayan Mountains, I Encountered Something So Special, And Beyond Humbling.
Strolling The Platform Waiting For My Train, I Noticed This Young Boy Was Following Me. He Had Torn Sandals, Brown Pants With Holes, And A Dirty Light Blue Shirt. The Poor Child Was Somewhere Between Eight Or Ten Years-Old, And Unbelievably Filthy.
The Whole Time The Boy Was Following Me, He Never Held Out His Hand And Begged For Money. Not Once. So Many Others Did And I Sadly Had To Ignore Them Or I'd Be Surrounded.
No Matter What Direction I Walked The Young Boy Was Always Only A Few Feet Behind Me. At One Point I Stopped And Turned All The Way Around. The Boy Now Stood Right In Front Of Me, Staring Blankly Up At Me.
We Stared At Each Other For What Seemed Like A Minute Or Two. I Slowly Put My Camera Bag Down And Sat Down On The Dirty Concrete Platform Next To The Tracks. The Boy Sat Down Right In Front Of Me, So Close I Could Smell His Sweat And Filthy Stained Clothes.
None Of Us Said A Word. We Sat There And 'Studied' Each Others Eyes For Several Minutes. The Boy Never Smiled, No Facial Expression At All, Just Stared Into My Eyes. I Couldn't Smile. I Felt The Boy's Stare Penetrate My Soul.
I Remembered Being Told Stories Of How Parents In New Delhi's Slum Would Intentionally Injure Their Own Children To Increase The Chances Of People Passing Them On The Street Giving Them Money. One Such Sick And Evil Incident Was A Parent Who Poked Out An Eye Of Their Own Child.
It Is A Probability The Young Boy's Parents Sent Him To The Train Station Every Day To Beg For Money From Travellers, Though This Child Did Not Look Physically Harmed. Or Maybe The Child Was Homeless, I Never Found Out.
Back On The Train Platform, I Somehow Felt It Would Be Wrong To Photograph The Boy. Maybe A Fragment Of Trust Was Built In The Moment We Sat Down On The Concrete Platform. I'm Not Entirely Sure To This Day.
However, I Had Previously Heard That Some Indians Believe A Photograph Steals Their Soul, And They Would Easily Become Agitated If You Take Their Photograph Without Permission, Which I Already Had Experienced A Few Days Earlier In New Delhi's Downtown Areas.
Hesitant, I Lifted My Camera Up To My Chest To See If The Boy Reacted. He Didn't. I Put The Viewfinder To My Eye And Took A Photograph, And Put The Camera Back Down.

There I Was With A Bag Full Of Camera Gear Worth Enough To Feed Him And His Family For Years. I Cried Inside.
As I Saw My Train Nearing The Station I Knew Our Brief Encounter Was Coming To An End. Since The Boy Was The Only Child I Saw That Did Not Beg For Money, I Discretely Reach In My Camera Bag Where I Kept Cash And Folded Some Bills Under The Lid So No One Around Would Notice.
As My Train Pulled Up Next To Us, I Stood Up, And Slid The Money In To His Dirty Shirt Pocket. I Didn't Count The Money. To This Day I Still Don't Know The Exact Amount, It Simply Didn't Matter To Me. If I Had To Guess, I'd Say Somewhere Between Thirty And Forty U.S. Dollars.
As A Principle I Never Pay People To Take Their Photograph. I Believe That Is The Absolute Wrong Way To Document A Story.

However, In Certain Situations, It Can Be Justified. I Didn't Pay The Boy For The Photograph, I Gifted The Boy The Opportunity To Feed His Family.
THIS Is The Photograph Of The Young Boy I Encountered At The Train Station In New Delhi, India. If You Look Closely You Can See My Reflection In His Eyes.

(This Photograph Has Previously Not Been Published.)
Through My Experiences, The One Time I Wholeheartedly Feared For My Own Life Was In California. A Pie-Eyed Newly Graduated U.S. Marine Placed A .45 To My Head. The Sensation Of The Steel To My Temple Was Indescribable. The Sound Of The Gun Being Cocked Was Purely Spine-Chilling.
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