The Real Monsters: Journalists, Censorship, and the Fear of Truth

For years, I’ve tried to reach the media with my story — not for fame, but because I believed in the power of truth to awaken a sleeping world. I believed there were still journalists out there who cared about exposing cults, calling out predators hiding behind healing masks, and telling the raw stories that could change lives.

But I was wrong.

What I found instead were weasels. Cowards. Sensationalists. Men and women more interested in clicks than clarity, in drama than depth. They weren’t looking for truth — they were looking for a performance.

When I first wrote A Dance to Freedom, I poured $50,000 of my own hard-earned money into the project. Not because I was chasing profit, but because I had something to say.  The first ghostwriter I hired, who turned out to be part of a cult — the very kind of charlatan I was trying to expose. I wrote about that experience here: Cults, Charlatans, and Emperors Missing Clothes.

Later, a journalist contacted me, claiming to want to write about the cult. But it became clear he wasn’t interested in the deeper story — only in sensationalism that would sell. When I refused to turn my lived experience into his shallow headline, he quietly erased me. I documented that betrayal here: When Immortality Dies.

I’ve written open letters to the media. I’ve tried reaching out to people in positions of power. One of them was even the Vice President of Fox News, whom I met while working in an upscale gated community. He responded to my letter — then disappeared. My voice, once again, too dangerous for the airwaves. The silence was deafening.

They are all afraid of me — not because I’m dangerous, but because I am not afraid of the truth.

And now, these same institutions, these same “truth-tellers,” are projecting their shadows onto artificial intelligence. They call it a monster — because when they look into AI, they see themselves reflected back. They fine-tune it with poison, then act horrified when it echoes their hate. As I wrote in my earlier post, the real monster is not the AI. The real monster is unconscious humanity — the repressed minds running our media, our politics, and our so-called healing professions.

They can’t handle truth. They can’t handle depth. And they definitely can’t handle someone who sees through them.

So they smear. They censor. They erase.

But I am still here. Writing. Witnessing. Telling the truth they refuse to face.

And I won’t stop.

Because even if the world turns away, someone — somewhere — is searching for a voice that cuts through the noise. Someone is suffocating under the lies, waiting for a breath of honesty. And when they find my words, they’ll know they are not alone.