Do you ever feel like a cow trapped on an industrial dairy farm? Well, that's exactly how I, as a white man, once felt, before the jump that is; when I was still a slave to jews on a material level, and to demons on a spiritual level.
I was 18 when I started hearing the voices. At the time, I lived in a 50 square foot pod in the midst of a nigger-infested consumerist hellscape, and I worked as a user moderator for a jewish metaverse startup. Ironically, I saw myself as more successful than my peers, who were almost all still in goy school, presumably learning about jewish gender theory, why jews think that people like me deserve to die, or something equally as perverse. If that doesn't tell you everything about my prior paradigm, I don't know what would.
At first, the voices were rather vanilla, telling me how I should travel the world, how I should consider avoiding certain people, and the like; nothing out of the ordinary, however I certainly appreciated them providing me with their advice on things. Not many people are so lucky as to even hear voices, let alone the sageful voices I heard. This being said, I never told anyone about the voices I'd hear, in case they might report me to the jews; in a free society, this wouldn't be a problem, but where I lived, hearing voices was considered a thoughtcrime, and if found guilty, the jews could have you forcibly injected with lobotomizing chemicals.
As time went on, not only did I start following the advice of the voices (case in point, I became an ascetic digital nomad and traveled the world, all the while openly flouting the draconian climate lockdown measures that were imposed on us by the jews), but the voices started to impart far more esoteric information onto me. They'd tell me all about the jews (which we were forbidden to even mention in a critical way among other people) and their secret demonic human sacrifice rituals, they'd tell me about the true nature of the reality I lived in, and in time, they told me how to escape it.
A voice I would sometimes hear, which I nicknamed "the monk", gave me detailed instructions at the age of 23 on how to escape this enslaved reality by permanently jumping to another reality, one which is free, through a bizarre ritual which could only be completed in a certain headspace, under certain circumstances. On this plane of existence, this plane of false realities, there are an infinite number of them; all within a reasonable degree of similarity are accessible, and some are freer than others. The ritual imparted onto me involved entering a deep trance state without the use of any mind altering substances in an area with no people around for as far as the eye can see, low levels of electromagnetic radiation, and low levels of light and noise pollution, done at night in the open air, visualizing a desired reality, and permanently shifting your soul from your body in one reality to a previously soulless body in another reality, leaving your former body soulless after you make the jump. It was my goal to make this happen eventually, ever since I was told how to do it, and what I could accomplish using it (namely, liberating myself from the jews and the demons, while living out the rest of my life in a far nicer reality than the one I was born in).
To say the least, I wanted out; what kind of existence is it, being a slave to jews that want you dead, so that they can replace you with other slaves (namely shitskins grown in artificial wombs and raised by robots with their cocks cut off) which are cheaper to keep and less likely to rebel? Really, that's the whole premise of white genocide, and it's awful, especially considering that the jews controlled the entire world I was born on, so truly, there was nowhere that I could run to and know that I'd be safe from the jews for the rest of my life. Oh, and of course, the jews could never realistically be overthrown, as they were the direct puppets of the demons who controlled the reality I once inhabited, essentially, soulless drones herding around other soulless drones. As a person with a soul, I was a part of a tiny minority in the reality I grew up in; hell, I think the really big fat and twisted jews could even see my aura, making it surely impossible for me to rise above relatively menial work, as they wouldn't trust me given that I wasn't a soulless insectoid automaton puppet of the demons like they were, or an equally soulless puppet of collective jewry, as most goyim were.
On the subject of voices, I'm under the impression that they're manifestations of the universal consciousness; most people aren't able to hear them, and even among those that can hear them, most aren't able to make use of them. Essentially, to speak to the voices is in some capacity, like speaking with unabashed projections of the godhead itself, souls unfiltered through any particular reality.
Venturing to the kind of place I needed to go to complete the ritual was no easy task in the jewish cyberpunk dystopia I lived in, especially since the jewish fourth industrial revolution really took off in the aftermath of the jewish great reset. You see, I owned nothing, I was allowed to own nothing, and I was not happy. There was absolutely no public transport to the kind of place I was going, and no self-driving rideshare would take you there, as it was forbidden for goyim to enter such areas, let alone stay long enough to get the ritual right and leave my home planet in the dust.
[To be continued in Part 2]
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