Reflections of 2020

           10 years have passed since I went out to Hollywood, fulfilling the nickname of my High School life. Among other less pleasant nicknames, being called Hollywood was kind of a charming and bright outlook from the small town hatred I experienced in my youth. As I got older, that moniker became darker, more evident of the programming that led to that mentality in general. I resented even being a part of it, all while being entranced by the world of film and movies. I wanted to be an actor/model/singer/dancer. I wanted to be a quadruple threat. I had stars in my eyes and my pursuits were encouraged by the media and the boom of the internet. I wanted fame back when I didn't know what it would cost. I was taught by coaches and teachers to do "whatever it takes" to get a role. Not that I would cheat or try to sabotage anyone else, but that I would do whatever I could to do study, practice lines, emote in the mirror trying to figure out expressions, etc.

            Well, this programming is very standard throughout acting "schools" but they are more like grooming camps than anything. They teach people how to stifle natural expression and ACT. or LIE. So, I didn't really understand this, despite being raised as a Christian. I thought acting was non-menacing, I thought it was harmless fun. I was wrong. It led to conflictions of self. Where did the acting begin and the real life end? Juggling a budding career and also growing up was difficult and, living in smaller towns/cities, I tried my hand at online dating, being unable to find very many people I really matched with. Online dating was relatively useless for me, and in fact, got me in more trouble than I'd anticipated.

            I knew there were risks, but I didn't realize they would look the way they did. Shortly after turning 18, I began correspondence with someone on OkCupid. He said he was an agent in Hollywood, and offered to let me stay with him for Pilot season for a few weeks. His profile said he was 27, and I thought, "Eh, I have friends who are older than that, so what the heck, right?" I wanted to be out there, I was already signed to another agency, and I really was naïve.

            When I got out there, I realized a few things: 1. He wanted to give me alcohol. There was a drink in the cupholder. I think vodka. I can't clearly remember what it tasted like aside from alcohol. 2. He lied about his age, which was 34, nearly twice my age. 3. There was no other bedroom. Just his own. And upon having these three realizations, I understood that there was only one way to stay out there and not have things end in disaster. I may have been able to talk my way out of it and find a way home, I don't know. I did have alcohol, and I don't know how easily I would have made that decision otherwise. I was across the country from my family, who would never understand how bad of a decision this was, heck, I didn't even understand. So I slept with him, and then things changed. He was nice to me, really nice, he allowed me to go see movies that were being previewed, meet celebrities, go to parties, but I didn't realize at the time I was basically on display as his property. I didn't feel like I was breaking into the industry, I felt like I was paying rent with my body and seeing these people up close but with a very obvious wall between us. I did have pleasant interactions with a few people, but after a few nights of giving myself up, I was over it, and didn't want to do it anymore.

          Things changed. He became less nice, more impatient, but didn't ever force himself on me. I wasn't asking for an easy way into Hollywood. I thought being out there for a few weeks going on auditions may net me an opportunity to stay out there. I acted like I wanted to sleep with him because I was too prideful to admit that I screwed up. And I didn't realize the depth of my mistakes. He brought me to a Golden Globes party at probably the most expensive house I've ever been. I proceeded to stumble upon some people smoking a blunt by the hot tub. I took a few hits, and being really new to weed, I was baked. I got some spaghetti from the food bar and sat down on the couch and ate it for what seemed like forever. Eventually, I was brought back to the apartment by who would become a new friend and also rescuer.

           The agent, who I'm not going to name, (As he's already had press for sexual abuse, and they won't prosecute, so what does it matter?) began to do shots of Patron with two boys who hitched a ride in the backseat. Loud as they were, I was pretty zonked and don't remember much of the ride back, but once I was there, I had my laptop open with photoshop and the guy who drove was showing me how to filter skin for retouching. As I was enjoying this lesson out of nowhere, the boys were attempting to go to the bedroom and stumbling over their pants. My new friend whipped out his phone and started recording. We walk over to the threshold and see one boy on the bed, the other on the ground, and the boy on the bed was vomiting on the other boy, while the one on the ground, now covered in vomit, was professing his love to the guy on the bed. The agent walks out of the bathroom, completely unaware of what is unfolding in his bedroom, with condoms and lube in his hands. I couldn't believe what was going on and turned around, grabbed my laptop and backpack and left.

            The Photoshop guy ended up letting me stay with him, and, after retrieving my suitcase from the agent's apartment, I started to settle into Koreatown, and even was an extra in a short film. But after a week of trying, and not really grasping what just happened, I flew home. It started to sink in that I wasn't going to make it in Hollywood only after I'd gotten a job back home in Georgia. I started to party more after work, just drowning my feelings in new exploration of chemicals. I lied to myself saying I was experimenting. I was escaping. It took overdosing on MDMA just 11 months later to start showing me how far I'd fallen. I went to jail.

           I was deferred into a Drug Court program, which was basically torture that you pay for. Constantly being sent back in jail for not being able to pee. (I had no drugs in my system, I just got nervous with someone twice my size staring at my) So after terminating myself from the program, I served a year in county jail. Still not realizing that what got me into this mess was denying the truth, I got out and continued partying and doing various psychedelic chemicals. To say that was my awakening is wrong, because the whole journey is still going on, but I can say that it was a profound time of my life with vastly reaching consequences. I discovered wire wrapping during this time, and promptly set out to make something cool. I failed. A lot. But at a point, I was making things people really wanted to pay for. And then my party life conflicted with my wrap life. I couldn't keep doing both, so I stopped partying and started wrapping, moving back in with my parents after a few failed attempts at living on my own. 

             They became my support structure, while I built myself up to a point where I could stop repressing the memories of what happened and deal with them in a constructive way. This all felt normal, it felt like my own choices led me to the interactions in Hollywood. And that's exactly what they want you to think. That's textbook abuser behavior. The only difference is that I was technically "Legal", even though I definitely looked like a minor. What wasn't legal was the alcohol. Sure, I was rebellious and totally fine with drinking underage, but he shouldn't have provided it, let alone make the drink so strong I was sure to get drunk. Now that I've spent quite a few years both experiencing and researching the various effects of chemicals on the system, I can certainly say that alcohol does lower inhibitions and shorten the thought process to be more of a reactive response. This response is useful in some situations, and detrimental to others depending on circumstance.

            What I couldn't piece together is why it was relevant. Why did this experience happen to me? Why did I choose to go through with this chain of events and not some other option? My ego, wanting fame, thinking any opportunity could be the opportunity? I felt like I could gain something and went ahead regardless of consequences. Blinded by the light. I admit fault where fault is mine, but it takes two to tango. I had an experience that haunts me to this day. Why? Because I discovered that I was trafficked through the algorithm to the "Elite". This agent is on the list of people who traveled to Epstein Island. OkCupid admitted to modifying the algorithm to match people with bad matches on purpose. How long had eyes been on me? Was it really chance? Or had they been watching me since 2008, when I first started trying to break into the industry?

          I have more questions than answers, and that's why I'm constantly searching for the Truth. I'm still studying the algorithm, not sure of what the future holds for us. To say I've never been scared is a total lie, I feel like there's a target on my back every day just for what I've seen. This has led to me researching to understand what is really going on under the surface. I have become short and embittered at times due to the circumstances of my past, and I strive to make right of my wrongs. I want to let this be known, lest you offer your children up to these evil people. I didn't know what I was walking into. Educate your children on the dangers of social media and dating apps. The elites play games with the users. The users become the used. The hunters become the hunted. Welcome to Red October.

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