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Candy Girl

Sometimes people don’t want to hear the truth because they don’t want their illusions destroyed – Nietzsche

These memoirs are written specifically for Australian victims of ritual abuse and mind control.  I use the term ‘victim’ in preference to ‘survivor’ because the latter suggests our predicament is resolved.  Australian victims who actively seek freedom and healing realise that our ordeal is never really over.  So long as Australia continues to deny the very existence of our abuse, so long as health care professionals continue to misdiagnose and label normal reactions to extraordinary circumstances ‘mental illness’, and so long as our perpetrators remain above the law, seated in positions of authority and influence, from where they continue to orchestrate our ongoing harassment and intimidation – we remain victims of crime.

I write with the audacity of one who spent 40 years wandering alone through Australia’s victim-bashing wilderness.  I write with the tenacity essential for withstanding the total onslaught from an organisation with unlimited worldly power and resources.  I write with zero tolerance of my perpetrators, less respect for those who man our health, justice and education systems, and the least allowance for those who warm our Sunday pews.  I pen with the sense of righteous anger that should consume every Australian citizen exposed to the silent holocaust that erodes our society, instead of opting to bask in ignorance.

I write in recognition of my fellow victims who did not live to share their stories: the countless babies bred for abortion and sacrifice; the adults abducted for ritual rape, torture and murder; the children raised in captivity, deemed unworthy of a birth certificate, having never felt the sun on their skin – I write to give these souls a voice.

I write to provoke the victims still trapped in ‘The Matrix’.  Those bound and gagged by unscrupulous methods, and who sense that something is not quite right but can’t recall what or why.  I urge these victims to be brave enough to swallow the red pill, and confront the fear that cloaks the true source of their inner longing and discontent.

I write in acknowledgement of the victims who endure a fate worse than death.  Those who were absorbed into the abuse system, forced to perpetrate what was done to us and them, and who have in a sense died internally.  I write to testify that escape is possible and preferable.  There is a source of secret wisdom, power and authority that far exceeds what you and I were privy to.  Every act is forgivable, every one and thing can be overcome.


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