The objective of this post is to warn tribe.net community of dangerous elements present in Los Angeles party scene. This true story will illustrate some schemes currently used to put unsuspecting party-goers in bondage with evil spirits and members of the psychic cult.

First, a little bit about my background. For many years I was fascinated by everything religious, spiritual, mystical and metaphysical, and was on a quest for the Truth. Since I begun to practice yoga and meditation about three and a half years ago I started experiencing notable psycho-spiritual and physiological changes that could not be classified as developmental or pathological. They fit profiles described in some texts as the ‘Kundalini Awakening,’ and also ‘Shamanic Illness.’

As I became more intuitive and grew in my ability to work the bioenergetic aspects of the human body the nature of my work as a physical therapist changed dramatically.

Seeking a better climate and a vibrant spiritual community, in February of 2006, I moved across the continent to Santa Monica. There, I immediately meet a very gifted and creative group of people I was first introduced to by M., a man who I meet a few months earlier on a training conference.

I was attracted to my new LA friends because of our common interest in spirituality, healing and creative arts. My new friends were showing me extraordinary things in a spontaneous and fun way. They invited me to partake in some amusing practices which at that time seemed harmless and even spiritually enlightening.

Much time was spent at the ‘burners’, events modeled after the Burning Man, a modern hippie festival that takes place once a year in the desert of Nevada -- a huge carnival where anything and everything goes: dancing to trance music, sex, drugs and masquerade at night, socializing, occult and New Age activities in the afternoon.

I was soon intoduced to a physician who gave me a prescription for medical marijuana. It helped my back pain and significantly deepened my spiritual practice, but came at a steep price. I was careful in my drug use that I do not become addicted, but I was ignorant in that the end result can be a spiritual bondage. Month later I’ve learned that such psychotropic substances can open people to demonic invasion.

The stage was set.

The psycho-spiritual transformation I was experiencing was getting progressively more intense. My intuitive abilities and skills as a healer flourished, memory and analytical skills also improved. My physical strength and endurance doubled. I was feeling oneness with the world, loving everything and everyone. It seemed most people were falling in love with me too. All seemed beautiful and well. Maybe that’s what enlightenment is supposed to be like, I thought. I pondered on how to go forward in a responsible way with new powers I seemed to be developing. I trusted I would be shown the way when the time comes.

Things started to drastically shift in early Spring of 2007. When M. went on a month-long trip to Southeast Asia, Robert Ward, tall skinny man in mid forties with curly blond hair suddenly appeared and was very eager to be my friend. I meet him for the first time a year earlier at a holistic health conference

It turned out that Robert and M. were friends with some of the same people. This synchronicity encouraged me to open up and confide in Robert right away. Robbie, as he often introduced himself, immediately wanted to hang out with me all the time. I appreciated his taking me to private parties where I was meeting interesting people. He, as some of my other new friends, asserted that we were brothers, after a very short time of meeting me.

Within a few weeks his behavior became progressively more strange. For example, with no good explanation, he requested to spend time alone in my car. He started asking me a lot of peculiar questions about my past, questions having mostly to do with my moral conduct. For instance, he wanted to know if I’ve ever forced a kiss on a girl. The answer was an honest “of course not”. Robert persisted: “maybe, just a little, ah?” He asked me things like if I ever laughed as a boy seeing another kid fall down. Robert also asked me provocative hypothetical questions, even such as if I would throw a banana peal on the ground – “it’s organic, it’ll decompose”-- or if I would urinate on the street plants. He argued that it would be good for plans since as a healer I’d be sharing good energy. I thought he was surely kidding. I now believe he was looking for a ground, a moral weakness, on the basis of which evil spirit could come into my life.

I began having puzzling experiences of feeling some energetic essences come in and out of my body. On two occasions, both in the presence of Robert, I actually saw several ghost-like creatures enter me from the mirror. It first happened at the Space Island, a dance club in Hollywood. Within a few days, a similar incident happened in the hall of a Santa Monica condo building allegedly owned by Robert’s family.

Robert was becoming more and more possessive and manipulative. A couple of days after the ghosts-in-the-mirror experience he told me he wanted a kind of friend that would jump out of the window if he asked him to. Around Easter, late evening, we had an argument when I told him I was tired and wanted to go home. Robert demanded that I should stay with him. I then insisted that Robert tell me about his real intentions with me, which I increasingly suspected were less than wholesome. His face became utterly malevolent and repulsively lustful. Robert looked like he wanted to devour me. Feeling energetically besieged, I got out of the car. Robert followed me. As I was walking away I felt a large energetic essence enter me from behind. It felt disgusting and extremely invasive. Robert was still following me. I walked away faster. When we were a good distance apart from each other, I ran back, got inside of the car and drove away. Robert tried to open my car’s door as I was already leaving the driveway.

Within a few days my car was stolen. Just a coincidence? You decide.

Concurrently, I was more frequently experiencing telepathy with other members of the group, likely a cult, to which I was introduced to. I soon began to hear voices even when I was home alone. Verbal communication from the spirits appeared in distinctly human voices, different in tonality, age and gender. At one time or another, depending on the spiritual practice I was involved in, voices lead me to believe they were spirit guides, my soul, thought adjusters, even god/goddess. They seemed benevolent and fun. The idea that I was dealing with evil did not even cross my mind.

I started observing some extraordinary ‘gifts’. During those days I could be a long distance away in an unfamiliar neighborhood and get back home easily without even paying attention to the directional signs on the road. Some invisible intelligence, as a ‘force’ in Star Wars, was directing my arms to make the right turns in smooth and confident way. It was very amusing. I called these trips a ‘driving meditation.’ I felt likewise ‘possessed’ when I danced. My body parts seemed to move on their own. I could have resisted but allowing this was a very pleasant sensation. My moves were in synchronicity with what other people were doing next to me. My healing practice, too, became much more ‘intuitive’. Little did I know at the time what, in a not-so-far-away future, will come of these ‘being in a flow’ practices.

I liked the company, and appreciated encouragement and assistance of my new spirit friends. I accepted them as agents of the tribe, which I thought might even be a divine organization. I discounted my experience with Robert as a test of my value system and character. I looked forward to my full acceptance by the group followed by disclosure of the mysteries surrounding events of the past few months, including the one involving the spirits and also the real reasons behind Robert’s odd behavior.

Communication with other people became multilayered. One level consisted of communication of the minds. On another level I was apparently talking with their spirit or spirits. Most ordinary people did not know this and were impressed by my ability to know what’s on their mind. I’ve meet some other people, members of the mysterious group, who had the ability to communicate with spirits too. This was one of the major ways we recognized each other. I was becoming increasingly more like them – in the flow, cool, smooth and spontaneous.

Eventually, voices became bossier. They maintained that my ‘brothers’ wanted me to follow their instructions. Considering this process divine I assumed it was good, and found a way to rationalize all that was happening.

When voices cheered me on to be a ‘bull’, I supposed I was encouraged to be more assertive and outgoing – a good thing, I figured, considering I was chronically shy. I played that role for a couple of weeks, mostly at the parties.

I avoided orgies, alcohol and other hedonistic aspects of these parties, and preferred dancing, music, and observing the theatrical drama. With encouragement by both, the voices and the initiated, I also observed myself exhibiting an increasingly boisterous personality, which was very much unlike my usual introspective and gentle self.

Months later, I read in the Judeo-Christian literature that even an indirect involvement in an occult, gives spirits a legal ground for oppression. It didn’t matter that I had absolutely no intention of serving Satan, in whom I did not even believe at that time.

It was at the ‘burners’, that I most often experienced a strange energetic exchange with other people, people I was led to by mysterious force. Most of these people seemed obviously aware of what was happening and many seemed to enjoy it. This was another way I could tell the initiated. I was puzzled by this and asked around but got no straight answer. My theory at that time was that this was a sort of Tantric exchange of information, spiritual gifts and healing energy.

I later learned what a mistake it was to participate, for those were spirits that were exchanged. These spirits, though, carried with them counterfeit gifts.

Voices encouraged me to stop talking to my old friends and family, and spend more time by myself, at home, smoking pot and meditating. Allegedly, I was groomed for my spiritual awakening and serving a higher purpose, and therefore I was not to waste time on what was unessential at the moment. The idea was that I would later re-enter the world as my more fully realized self.

In reality, of course, voices masterfully exploited my isolation. A combination of yoga practice and drug use dismantled my spiritual boundaries and made my body-mind system susceptible to spirit infiltration. Spirits and my so-called ‘brothers’ played me like a lonely figure on a chess board. I was grossly unprepared to face time-honed schemes of evil.

Voices called me a beautiful man, a genius, most powerful man in the world, etc. With an amazing regularity, like a clock, whenever I saw and admired an attractive object, such as a house or a car, voices announced to me that I’ll have it all. They promised me eternity, and told me I could be anybody I wanted. I was growing suspicious of their sincerity. Besides, those things were not really what I was after in life.

Increasingly, it appeared that everything had a consciousness, not only living creatures but also inanimate objects. One moment circumstances seemed to confirm pantheism, another, polytheism appeared evident. At times, it seemed I had a choice about my reality, at others it was imposed on me. I was receiving some very profound but often contradictory ideas about the nature of existence, God, and purpose of life. Voices cheerfully encouraged my ‘realizations.’ Those were perplexing days but I still trusted that it was part of a good process and that the ultimate truth will soon be revealed.

One day voices announced that I was god. I later understood a fuller significance of this. Considering oneself god is a huge heresy, a sin which demons can use to condemn their victim when the time is right. Also, months later, my research revealed that satanists regard themselves as gods. This act is at the very root of the ‘original sin.’

At that time I knew very little about all this. I rationalized what I heard from my ‘guides’ by remembering the adage that there’s a spark of God in everyone. Voices insisted that I was not a god, but the god. Conceptually I tried this idea for a size, and contemplated that perhaps as Buddhist teach, I am the consciousness which dreams up the existence into being. Ironically, the voices were responsible for my not getting any more invested in this idea, when they insisted that since I was god I should be an ‘asshole.’ This meant, for example, that I should rudely take whatever I wanted, not ask and not pay for it. Voices claimed that except for me, all creatures in this world were automatic mechanisms, marionettes with no free will, designed to react predictably to my thoughts and actions. Even if what they told me was true, I did not want to act badly towards anyone. When I refused to follow their ‘guidance’, one of the more deep-toned voices claimed that indeed he was the god. By then I’ve heard from the voices enough to know that they were not telling me the truth. I no longer believed them. Systematically, spirits endorsed competitiveness, pride, and cynicism. Their advice increasingly seemed ridiculous, and utterly opposed my moral beliefs. Fortunately, for the most part, I had enough insight to hold back.

By April, it got so bad I could not carry on with my work as a physical therapist and a healer. I was more frequently coming late and on a couple of occasions did not show to work at all. Just before leaving the house, I’d often get surges of energy, spontaneous movements of body parts, or a peculiar sweet-sulfur odor would appear. I was embarrassed to show in public like this. Before long, the owner of the clinic where I worked called me and told me that I was fired. I was in agreement that I could not continue working like this. I hopped that this ordeal is a temporary trial and would soon come to an end, at which point I would resume my work.

In early May things started developing with a lightening speed. Another ‘burner’ festival, LIB, was taking place right on my birthday weekend. I was turning 34. On the way to the festival I was informed that the person who was supposed to give me the ticket which was promised to me as a gift from my ‘brothers’ was not coming. When I got there, my ‘brothers’ acted as if they did not even know it was my birthday. This marked a beginning of one of the most disappointing days of my life.

Early in the evening mysterious force lead me to a drawing collage with a picture of a book that had ‘Life’ inscribed on it in Russian, my native language. Voices announced that they had my book of life. As party progressed, I became increasingly a center of attention. It was as if a cruel joke was played on me – instead of being celebrated, about a dozen people teased and made fun of me. I’ve been to the ‘burners’ before. This was a first time I was treated this way.

The morning after my birthday I left the festival grounds. I was upset to say the least. This was nothing comparing to the torture that was to come immediately after.

Already on the way from the festival voices ridiculed and berated me. From then on their pressure for me to convert to their ways increased ton-fold. They were particularly upset when I was nice to people. For example, when I said “thank you,” they teased me in irritating tone ‘we fenk you, we fenk you’, making fun of my accent. They mocked me by calling me a ‘teacher’ and a ‘shepherd’, and implied that my behavior is nauseating, when I attempted to encourage others to do good. They chanted ‘its bull shit, it’s all bull shit’ when I merely thought about anything loving or spirtual. Voices pleaded for me to “concede”.

One day I gave a homeless man who was panhandling on the street near my home some change. As soon as I drove away he yelled at me “gotcha”. Voices shamed me: “you lost him” as if I was in some kind of a competition. These wired occurrences became more frequent. When they happened, voices would often accentuate my predicament, saying “Everyone is f@#&ing with you.”

It was getting more bizarre by the day. Voices told me I must have a homosexual relationship; they specifically told me to go to one of my ‘brothers’ and give him oral sex. They said everybody was a “faggot” (not my word) and that I am too straight. Needless to say, I did not comply. I am not judging homosexual, I just personally have no interest in going that way. Voices blamed me for being “too good”, “too righteous.”

Among absurd ideas they tried to get me to believe in was that I was already dead. One version of it was that I died in an accident some months ago and was now in my afterlife. They tried to get me confused in various other ways, with increasing intensity and vigor.

My priority in dealing with people has always been the good Hippocratic dictum – to help, or at least to do no harm. Since I did not like the way voices wanted me to relate to people and did not want to suffer the punishment for opposing them, I withdrew even more.

As I saw my professional and personal life crumble, I increasingly realized, no matter whose agents they were, clearly the source of the voices were not my friends. There was now an unmistakable anger and hatred in their tone. My idea of spirit guides has always been that they are gentle and loving beings. Clearly these spirits were of a different kind.

I asked, whatever these things are, to leave me. This only infuriated the spirits. They retaliated with an awful shower of dreadful insults.

I tried to get some answers from people who apparently initiated me into this, whatever it was. Most of them denied any knowledge. Some mocked me covertly, in synchronicity with what the voices were doing. A few seemed to sympathize with me, but offered little real help. One man hinted to me that these things were not my friends, which confirmed my own growing conviction. Another foretold that they would push my buttons. One young woman blabbered that I was too big, whatever that means, and so they had to ‘fix it.’ She did not explain.

Some of the initiated seemed to channel bizarre supposedly prophetic information about me. Much of it was ominous.

Voices explained that everyone was lying to me, that these people are bull-shitters, and that since I didn’t like their games, nobody wanted me, and that I should now “get the f@(k out.”

At that time when I went outside, there was often somebody stocking or otherwise playing with my mind. When I was in my first-floor apartment in Santa Monica, I heard people congregating by my window laughing and making fun of me.

I tried to find a reason for what was happening to me in a positive light. I reflected on the story of Job, and the Temptations of Saint Anthony. I've considered that this could be super-accelerated karmic cleansing, a temporary purgatory, or a divinely inspired test.

Birthday weekend was the last time I smoked pot. This action did not alter the voices in any way. It was apparently too late, by then they’ve already infested me.

Spirits claimed that I’m their “shell” and forbade all personal initiative. A few times they called me their “taxi”. As far as they were concerned, any action, even thought, was a transgression, punishable by a deluge of threats and insults. Sometimes, when I so much as hinted that I was suffering, they said: “Happy Birthday!” I guess they thought it was funny.

One time, in hopes of being left alone, I teft town and went camping in the mountains. Spirits’ assault at night was horrendous. Mixed in with insults, they kept telling me how stupid I was for coming there and that I didn’t like nature. This is highly ironic because I love nature. I tried to argue with them, reminding that I’ve enjoyed this activity before, and would have enjoyed it now if it wasn’t for them. To this they emphatically exclaimed: “EXACTLY.”

In a desperate effort to break out I went scuba diving. My tormentors were still making fun of me at seventy feet under the surface of Pacific Ocean.

I thought that for whatever reasons I was forced out from town by the cult. In early July I moved out. Persecution from people stopped, but the voices continued.

Eventually, for the most part, spirits gave up on a plot to convince me that the whole world wants me out. My entourage from hell continued their attacks on me in other ways, however. As I’ve become more familiar with their games, their strategies of torturing me became less fantastic, yet still very cruel.

Sometimes spirits’ speech is perfectly fluent; sometimes they tormented me by stretching out their sentences with long echoes of each syllable. Although the voices seem to have unique personalities, they don’t reveal any information that can be used to trace their human identity. In fact, they seem to judge humanity as outsiders. This becomes apparent in the manner of their occasional critical observations such as “you people are so weak.” They accept most identities when I contemplate their nature, the more dramatic the better, and had suggested some of their own. They most often identify themselves collectively as bull-shitters, and sometimes in singular: the island. Some of the other most peculiar names they’ve came up for themselves: prohibiters, not-wanters, border patrol, prosecutors. They liked it when I thought of them as aliens, a brain microchip or a mechanism in my ears. Though a couple of times they suggested that they are a devil, most of the time they insist that they are not demons, which makes me wonder if that is exactly what they are. On a few occasions they’ve told me they are a familiar spirits. The most frequent voice claimed to be my bride. Interestingly enough, every time I thought about sharing my story with others, they’ve tried to convince me that I’m imagining them.

On a daily basis these creatures behave as the worst kind of hooligans who tease and torment for the fun of it. They suggest lewd acts, draw attention to things sexual or filthy, and then scold me for considering them. By commenting on my deeds and thoughts they rob me of all privacy and create an environment in which I feel constantly judged.

When I’m in bed at night, trying to fall asleep, I am often kept up for hours with the threats and scolding, as well as hissing and growling sounds. Spirits talk to me almost all the time, even when I’m sleeping. When I wake up from a dream they comment on it. Sometimes I catch them brainwashing me with evil propaganda. One time I woke up to the voices rhyming a poem, ending it, as soon as I was alert, with the words “all creation in black mass”.

They keep telling me that I “don’t need anything anymore” and also that I should “die already.” They call me all kinds of insulting or absurd names, such as donkey, bitch, stupid, clown and hole puncher.

Here are some of the reasons they gave for tormenting me: “We like it like that”, “It’s delicious”, “We are joking”, “We seriously dislike you”, “We hate you”, “You deserve it”, and “This is your book (of life).”

Until recently, I never gave much thought about evil spirits or devil. I thought Satan and demons are mythical archetypal characters. I also thought they are ideas people used to scare and manipulate masses with. Even if they were real, I used to think, unclean spirits were not likely to seek a relationship with a good man. Clearly, I was naïve and ignorant to think this. In fact, adherents of satanism believe that the more pure the sacrifice, the more power they gain from their lord of darkness. Also, one priest told me that in fact, devil’s clever deception is to convince humans that he does not exist.

There was a lot I did not understand about what was happening to me since I got into spiritual practice. What I was doing seemed to make me a more capable and happier person. My intentions were to do good, to seek the knowledge of God’s will and the truth, and to share it with others. Spirits came in with a promise of holy guidance, and a direct, personal revelation. They were masters of seduction. They were all I wanted them to be… until they got a strong hold of me. When the courtship ended they proceeded to batter my mind with fear and delusion.

I believe I was set up to be possessed by demons by a group of people who serve evil. Clearly, they are in a symbiotic relationship with demonic spirits. It’s likely they first wanted to initiate me into their community. When I did not respond in the way they wanted, they turned on me and tried to destroy me. I suspect many of these people don’t fully realize what they do. May God have mercy on their soul.

Sometimes demons tell me that the game is over, or that they’ve done their cleaning job, even that they’ve made a mistake and that they’re going away; but then a moment later they deny their previous statement, proceed with their assault and tell me that this will never end, that it’s all over for me, and that it’s too late to do anything about it.

I have tried all kinds of things to resolve this problem: energy, psychic, kabalistic, yogic and shamanic healing, positive visualizations and meditation, prayer and exorcism, hypnosis, crystals, herbs, other supplements, and Tibetan medicine are a few examples. I’ve recruited the best healers I could find; nothing helped. I also consulted with several reputed psychologists and psychiatrists. Neither consultations nor medication did anything for the voices. Not that they could, I am convinced that neither neurosis nor chemical disbalance is an issue.

Demonic spirits mock me: “Where’s your God?” Ironically, they’ve made a stronger believer out of me. I was borderline agnostic before the summer of ’07. Evil spirits, contrary to their objective, I’m sure, gave me an evidence of incarnate life. However statistically improbable it is that the physical world is merely a result of a series of incredible accidents, a realm of entirely spiritual creatures surely must have had a Creator, who has to be the true Lord, most high and only God.

I find that Christianity has the soundest explanation for my experience. The nature of my experience was first explained to me by articles I found on the Internet. Then it was confirmed by the Bible, and further enlightened by publications on spiritual warfare and deliverance. I was shocked to learn how prevalent the phenomenon of demonic possession and activity of satanic cults are in our society.

When I pick up Christian literature, or when I go to a Church, spirits try to discourage me, suggesting that I’m a coward for seeking assistance from God. They cry “shut up, just shut up” when I think about exposing their schemes.

I realize that what I describe will stretch most people’s credulity. However, this is an honest account of what has happened to me in the last few months. Unfortunately I cannot recommend a remedy for those already oppressed. I did not find a cure that works for me. I hope that my story will prevent future casualties by giving tribe.net community red flags to watch out for. Maybe it will also inspire some of my former ‘brothers’ to rethink their ways.

I know this post not win me a popularity contest… who wants to hear the uncomfortable truth. It will certainly not make my pain disappear. I feel strongly that telling this story is my cross. It maybe the most important thing I’ll do for humanity in this life. I pray that it will have the most positive effect on those it touches.

May God deliver us all from evil, lead us to all truth, and bless all His children everywhere with good health and peace.