Where to start this? I was born on August 31 1989, this was a Thursday, in Latin one of the translations of Augustus is “great one”, I find this meaning relevant to my story, if I can I suppose stroke my ego for the time being, yet on the contrary I am just showing myself the love that is absent and has been throughout my life, for awhile there I was traveling in the darkest abyss, so you’ll have to excuse my introduction of Sampson Robin Katoa, because there will be allot of this, I guess to call it, kudos and acknowledgements or accolades that were stolen from me, ooh poor me right? Well you can stop reading this if that’s the case.
As I was stating the day of my birth was a Thursday, this day was hijacked from the Norse or Celt or “White” pantheon, this day was originally called Thuriwaz, I know this will all make sense but Thor is the God of Thunder, I had considered myself a son of thunder, zealous, for the one true religion on the face of the earth, which belonged to at the time of my birth, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Yes I was born into this great institution of such recognition throughout the whole wide world, ah to be a member of this great church was my identity and it was in this church and through the scriptures that I had based my value in the world. I can remember going to different events as a child such as the different primary functions, on one such occasion it was a trunk or treat, this event occurred in Guam, a US territory, I can remember this one in particular because it was one of my most profound childhood cherished moments that I shared with my father. Before the event occurred I had been dressed in a big tyedye shirt, on the front there was a picture of either Bob Marley or Lucky Fine, two famous reggae artists, along with this shirt I had on a wig of dreadlocks on top of my head, I was I believe six or seven, I know it was before I was baptized, while I was standing there in front of the mirror my dad had a pen or marker in his hand and he had me come close to him, as I did he grabbed me or gently held me in place as he drew a teardrop on my face, when he was done he said to me, “When they ask you what you are you tell them you’re a gangster.”, ha, yeah it was way cool, I thought at least, but it was this one memory, one of many as a kid that I had of where growing up as a, “Mormon” while also having a father that was a drug trafficker took a bit of a toll on me. I suppose to get this out of the way because this is not what defines me, because for too long I had let that define the person who I was and what I was.
In Guam we lived somewhat in poverty yet what is called, “hood-rich”, there were so many times that I ate cereal with rotten milk in the mornings because the power would go out at night for a few hours and then the milk would refreeze or get cold and we’d still pour it into our cereal bowls, I can remember the milk all curdled up it looked like glue, and it tasted awful. I would walk outside of my house and in the yard there would be nothing but bullet shells all over the ground of the yard because my dad and his friends would be up all night shooting at god knows what. We named two dogs in Guam one named Poki and the other Mana, they died, in dog fights my dad took them to.
Yet all along we’d go to church and even we’d entertain the missionaries that were serving in Guam, Iremember this one Elder in particular, Elder Summers, would call my little brother Peanut, and he said something about Kermet the Frog, but I forget. Yes the church was a big part of my life then and still is to this day, in one form or another.
Yeah I have a big family, I am the third oldest of the bunch, yet in all actuality I am the second born son of my dads first marriage, my biological mom is a devout Pentecostal, hell she’s a Gospel Singer, and for awhile in the San Francisco Bay area she had her own television program on the local channel. I just now realized that this is going to take me some time to actually write this whole thing down, as there are many factors in this, introduction or autobiography of how I came to this work and how I am set free Spiritually yet I am in chains in more ways than one, physically.
But I’ve started in Guam, mainly because it is the earliest time in my life where I have clear and concise memories that I can write about, of course there are the basics to me, I was born in Fort Worth Texas, at John Peters Hospital, I had a biological mom who birthed me of course and then there was their divorce and the entrance of my mom, my dearest mother, my best friend growing up, technically she is my “step” mom or mother, but dammit I hate that term so bad to describe her or my brothers, who would in the ways of the Gentiles or the Courts would say, my “step” brothers, yeah fuck that, but for the sake of this work and of the growth that I have experienced while being introduced to it I will lay out all of the facts that I know to be true that I believe will help paint a literary picture of who I am, it’s funny how words with the help of the mind can do that, perceive an accurate depiction and description of anything, any thing, and that is what this work has helped me to understand.
I love that there are so many writers and readers here, I guess in a way each and every single person has the ability to write they just don’t know what to write, but hey write about me? I can do that, there is so much bullshit spread about me that I’m glad I get to write my own story, even if it seems as if I’m trying to make myself look better, because I am most certainly the fuck shit not.
And so yes here I am, the third oldest, I have my cousin, who is my oldest brother, (I’m not sure if I’ll put my brothers names into this I’m not certain if they’d want that, I’ll ask them and then put it here if it’s cool, but for now, 02/15/2021, they do not know about this paper I am writing), then my brothers from my biological mom, (for the longest time I’d refer to this woman as the bitch who gave birth to me, it’ll all make sense soon enough), which there are only three of us from her, then my five step brothers and one step sister from my step mother, (by the way a piece of me is dying while writing these titles to describe my brothers, sister and mom, literally I want to just stop, but I know that this work is important and in the end they’d want me to be honest about it all, the way we grew up with my father involved in what he was involved in, there was allot of secrecy and distrust towards the outside world I should say), this may seem odd but this is the way of my people, my heritage and culture, I am of Tongan decent, one of the branches of the Polynesian people, but I am a first generation American, or part of the generation of Tongans that was born in America from my families villages or small islands, a group of islands called Ha’apai is where my biological mom is from and more specifically her village is called U’iha, my step mom is from the same group of islands and I believe that they are actually cousins, (I would only begin to find these things out after my mom had passed away, which was on January 11th of 2021, I would ask her sister, as soon as I get that information I’ll insert it here), and of course my dad’s village is on the main island called Tongatapu, and the village is called Fahefa, I say of course as if it’s supposed to be known but it’s really not too well known. Ah yes Tonga, Polynesian people, “You know you guys descend from Hagoth?”, is what I’ve heard from some of the good people of the church, in fact there are a few books written on this theory as well, Hagoth is mentioned in the book of Alma in the very last chapter, also in this same chapter is mentioned about how the records were also written down, all except for the things that weren’t meant to.
I know exactly what the True Messenger means when he mentions the way in which pride is the downfall of man and of families and groups of people, you don’t have to trust me, but just understand that I know all about, especially growing up as a Polynesian American Latter-day Saints, this is one of the things that I had a hard time facing when I first encountered this work, and if I can be honest it still is the hardest thing that I have to come to grips with, yet the more that I let go of that pride that comes from being part of such an exclusive, (out of the more than 6 billion humans that walk the face of this Earth the Polynesian people barely have…TBH I’m going to fact check this one just for the sake of well that “pride” thing, damn you Lucifer, the true messenger was right when he said that this assignment would awaken the Lucifer or Id or Ego or Super Ego, I forget which one, and I can’t exactly remember verbatim how he said it I’m just paraphrasing…alright so I was going to say 1 million but there are about 2 million Polynesian people in the world and there are about 163,000 Tongan people in the world. But there are actually allot of Mormon Tongans and Polynesian people), group of people, the more uniqueness that I find in each and every single human that belongs to the, “whole human family of Adam”. This is something that I can’t overlook and is one of the factors of the work, MWAW, that is just so comforting to me.
Sorry about the side track thing I don’t really know if I should call it side track but more this is just the format that this bio is going, I do ramble but when I do you’ll he to bear with me and get through my bullshit while it’s going and eventually I’ll get back to the main focus, so after my birth and the ensuing divorce of my dad to my biological mom, I have some vague memories of living in northern Utah, Provo to be more exact, on family trips to Salt Lake City my dad would always make it a point to visit our old houses in Provo, which was a small basement apartment near the university, I also remember a house that we lived in, and as well was there another man who lives with my parents and us, I guess our babysitter or whatever but his name was Suli, (pronounced Sool-Lee, I’ll ask my dad if that’s his name and put a correction here if needed, for the sake of time I’m going to get this introduction as fast as possible to get it in, if there’s a list that requires me to be on due to my beliefs I’ll do anything I can to be on it, to show what is I suppose to call allegiance).
One of the coolest memories that I have that stuck with me while in northern Utah was as a kid going to I believe a drain or sewage covering and seeing these weapons in it, they were the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles weapons, looking back now I can see how an adult probably put in these props to entertain the neighborhood kids such as myself and the other kids, this is something that I haven’t forgotten and for the longest time there I didn’t actually see how those weapons had gotten into the sewer, yeah I’ll remember that and I guess in a way now as an adult I can see the value in doing something like this, I guess for the sake of a kids imagination.
Another memory that I have was when my dad and my oldest brother and I were in the kitchen, we were eating cereal and my dad did this thing where he would mix up all the cereal into a bowl, I watched as he would take box after box of cereal and dump it into my older brothers bowl, he seemed to have been getting a really good kick out of it, yeah this would actually be one of many times that my dad would cheer on my brothers and not me, yeah I know I’m feeling sorry for myself, but it’s true, I am the black sheep. This role of mine will become more apparent as I write my introduction to the Marvelous Work and A Wonder.
Other than that memory there was this thing I used to do as a kid when I was younger, I used to actually drink out of the toilet bowl, it was a weird addiction that I had as a kid but this phase only occurred while I was on northern Utah, if I remember correctly the taste of the toilet water was similar to gummy bears, but not since then had I drank from a toilet, in fact the only other way in which I interacted with toilet water was when I would use either the toilet bowl water or the toilet tank water for shooting up, or introducing intravenously, black tar heroin or crystal methamphetamines.
I was am or always will be in active recovery from these substances, I had abused the illegal narcotic known as black tar heroin for 13 years, on and off but sadly, I was mostly on, this is an addiction that I had started at the age of 18 and kept it going for the longest time in fact just in October of the year 2020 I had gotten off of it, now I’ve had times of complete abstinence and sobriety, for about two years while I was incarcerated and on beginning parole through the state of Utah’s Adult Parole and Probation program, which for me started in 2016, when I caught the offense for which I am currently on and am terminating in July of 2021, this will be referred to back and forth throughout my bio but I don’t want to get caught up in it, as I’ve stated the old me, pre-MWAW, would’ve used the life or hand that I was dealt as a fault and justification, hell I’d even use it for the divine feeling of comfort I now feel, similar to Alma the Younger, but as of right now and after the introduction to this work, I’d be foolish to say or let or be a victim of circumference that will sit and ruminate on the bullshit that I’ve been through or to even use it as a fucking motivator in my life when that is clearly not the damn, case, rather all my life has been is a culminating point by my true self that allowed me or prepared me to, when the time was right, find this work and to either walk the hell away from it or pick it up and run with it, and I’m proud to say that I’ve picked this work up and although I’m not really running with it, I am quickly jogging with it.
So after my birth, northern Utah, Guam, then came Hawaii. At the airport in Guam going to Hawaii it was rather hectic, but before I move on there are a few memories in Guam I feel are somewhat important to mention as well this is my biography and it’s my fucking story and it’s come straight from my mouth, now I don’t know if these things are connected but it seems and feels as if there is a void in my life, of great importance that occurred to me in Guam, and I thank the A.N.G.E.L.S. that are out there that they have never turned their backs on me, when everything and everyone else has, I owe this knowledge in part to Human Reality by Anonymous and the knowledge that is found within it, reader, I want you to know how many questions and uncertainties I’ve had in my life and how these were quilled by the answer of this, spoken by the true messenger, “When we die, none of this shit is going to matter, nothing, not a damn thing. But that doesn’t mean to be a sick to people.”
I’m only paraphrasing and at times I am a sick to people but you know what, fuck them I can only take their shit for so long, it’s like this story I heard of a cobra and these villagers and a wise turtle, the gist of it is, this wise turtle tells this cobra to not be such a violent animal and attacking people and so he does the cobra comes back to the wise turtle a week later and he’s all beat up, and the cobra said well I wasn’t attacking anyone and they pretty much beat me up, then the wise turtle said well I said don’t attack them but defend yourself at least, this is pretty much why if at anytime I am a sick or an asshole or seem like it, because man our brothers and sisters it’s not they are mean but they get caught up in defending themselves that in their defense they may attack another unexpecting person, I just so happen to always be that person, I’m trying and well the best way to put it is this, “When thou reprovest thy brother do so sharply but then show forth an increase of love afterwards towards that person whom thou hast reproved.”
I hate misquoting scriptures but in a sense this is a principle that even to this day I try my hardest to keep. Oh yes but I used to shit my pants at school and sleep walk and by sleep walk I mean I would fall asleep in one place and wake up in another place, I think I went to the tile floor because of its cold would counter the heat of the island, especially at night, what a great time it was in Guam.
I attended Harmon Loop Elementary and the only teacher I remember was named Mr. Skinner, he would eat kit kat candy and dip it in his coffee cup, that was one of the things I remember, a detail about this man who truly did help me out when I was a kid, the school we went to had barbed wire fence around it, I heard that it was to protect the kids from guerilla armies in the thick forest, but I’m not sure how validated that was or was not, I do remember the town we lived in had a military base on it.
Oddly enough now fast forward to the present time in my life I’d attend M.A.T., (Medically Assisted Treatment), where the nurse who dispenses the methadone dose I take, served his time in the military, Navy I believe, in Guam, probably the same town, I forget the name of the town and these small details are truly the devil, that saying the devil’s in the details, well it’s true to me, at least when I see it as well I want to know the wrong that you do and exactly how you did it, it’s in those small details that I would get irrate at, not the fact that she cheated but the fact that she kissed him that fucked me up, I guess don’t ask and don’t fucking think.
So when we arrived in Hawaii we were picked up in these black SUVs tinted black windows and what not, there was two or maybe three of them, that picked us up, at this time there was seven boys, my cousin and the two youngest had yet to live with us, shit I’m comforted when I think back to me and my brothers, all of us went through this same thing yet we all each have our own point of view of what we remembered, I know that love isn’t an emotion that is felt by our advanced self but damn it we came here to experience these emotions of love in these imperfect bodies and experiences, and with experiences they’re neither bad nor good they just are, to make us better for our eternal resting place, the MWAW helped me to understand this truth I repetitively would recite and go through almost robotically or amorally.
In the triune brain theory it holds that the brain is split into three parts the limbic system, the mammallion or sometimes called the Reptilian Complex, and the Neo-Mammalion complex, so yes I am committing social suicide mainly in writing bullshit I have heard and have been taught possibly out of sync with the actual findings but I know the gist of this shit mostly, I mean damn I tried, but the word amoral was explained to me as a function that is done within one of the complexes of the brain and if I’m not mistaken I believe it’s the Reptilian Complex or the animalistic side to us, or maybe it’s the limbi, yes but that is what amoral is.
Essentially after reading about the revelation given in TSP about the time of life or when the breathe enters the child being the beginning of life, I’ve come to the fetus does actually fall into that category of the brain being an amoral part of the body, yes this is why I’m afraid to walk away from this work as the true messenger had said today on his last video, February 15, 2021, that after coming into contact with this work you will learn more knowledge than you could do with it and because the seed is planted and I like and enjoy this fruit, if I don’t continue to nourish it properly, I will begin to know absolutely nothing not a damn thing, this is how I know that this work is the truth, I already had believed and started to formulate so much bullshit with my own crazy thoughts that if it wasn’t for this work I’d have committed a crime that would have been irreparable and would’ve been civily committed if not executed with Utah’s death penalty). In Doctrine and Covenants Section 122 Joseph Smith Jr wrote about this being the case what with experiences and all. I share this conviction.
After we were picked up we were taken to a mansion, I can’t remember exactly how big the house was but I do recall a pool and it having allot of rooms, I don’t remember who picked us up but I have a strong feeling of who it was, this is the man who my father worked for and who my dad would eventually take the place of in the Tongan Mafia as they called themselves, in my forefathers native tongue the group was called, Tuitavaka, the FBI and DEA called their specific group the Tuitavaka-Napalitono Drug Ring, (I found out while I was in prison the meaning of the word Tuitavaka, it means “arrival of the ship”.
I’ll get to my time in prison eventually but the official FBI report which is now closed stated these were a group of Tongan Nationals that held away in the drug trade of the South Pacific which territories included Australia, New Zealand, Hawaii and parts of California), I know what it sounds like but yeah that was his life and I happened to be his son and was exposed to this stuff I hope one day to help my father write his story.
We weren’t allowed to leave the room of the house we were staying in, from what I understand there could be many reasons why that was the case. In light of the morning it dawned on me the normalcy of this kind of childhood in children that grow up in this kind of culture and the kind of sub culture it creates, I didn’t acknowledge it before but I understand it now, not all to well but it is there.
At the federal trial and sentencing of my father in Hawaii Federal Court, I don’t remember the official name of this court but I do know that there is one, the judge stated to my father, “I know that you are a member of the Mormon church and that you have been getting active in this church, I know that they are good people.”, it dawned on me at that moment just how much influence the church really had, this sort of incident would occur more than once and when I say incident I mean the way in which my membership of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints would affect the legal system in my life, this was or is one of the first set of incidences.
At the time I was unaware of the way in which the secret combination was used and how it worked to influence the lives on the masses, for the longest time I believed the secret combination to be something more esoteric or sinister, but it truly is a blatant disregard for the rules by a small minority of individuals that are in some of the higher or upper echelons of society. This thing actually is something that I was uncertain how it worked until I came in contact with a MWAW, because of this work I was able to really see how this combination does work and how people, myself included, have been and I hate the word deceived but I guess the term would be trained into accepting certain facets of life as just the way things are and the rest is up to God to decide, yet on the contrary this is literally where these men have taken not earned but taken the credit that is owed to not just ourselves but to one another, they’ve put themselves on this untouchable level that is protected with disregard to our very own safety, the lives of each and every single living and dead person.
I was blinded and even to this day are the scales still falling off of my eyes, of this power that it holds, the sway of which is unchallenged, I am going to copy and paste a few excerpts that describes this secret combination to a literal tee, it’s from a speech I used to enjoy listening to from a man named JFK, “The very word “secrecy” is repugnant in a free and open society; and we are as a people inherently and historically opposed to secret societies, to secret oaths and to secret proceedings…For we are opposed around the world by a monolithic and ruthless conspiracy that relies primarily on covert means for expanding its sphere of influence--on infiltration instead of invasion, on subversion instead of elections, on intimidation instead of free choice, on guerrillas by night instead of armies by day. It is a system which has conscripted vast human and material resources into the building of a tightly knit, highly efficient machine that combines military, diplomatic, intelligence, economic, scientific and political operations…Its preparations are concealed, not published. Its mistakes are buried, not headlined. Its dissenters are silenced, not praised. No expenditure is questioned, no rumor is printed, no secret is revealed.”
I didn’t realize that I was guided by these sets of principles, which had been the means by which the church I was a member of, my whole life now I’m not saying that this church purposefully promotes this agenda no it just so happened to happen. But I’ll touch on these points later if they happen to be relevant.
So yes Hawaii was a nice place to live, it is here in Hawaii surrounded by the big blue ocean where I was baptized and confirmed a member of the LDS church, but before this happened I had a surgery on my face where I had to get an incision on my left eye and have the sinuses fixed, I believe they drained out the pus from the infection. For awhile up until last year, 2020, did I have a piece of I believe a plastic or silicone that was just left over from the surgery in my skull, I would play around with it and move it around with my skin over it, but it has since last year lodged itself into my skull or dissolved because it is now nowhere to be found.
In the photos of me during my baptism I am seen with a huge black eye, which was the outcome of the surgery, it was because of this appearance that my brothers took it upon themselves to tease me and call me, “Black Eyes Pea”, since I was the darkest one of my brothers or had the darkest skin complexion they’d even at times call me, “Blacky”, shit those were the times right, the childhood innocence that we all had as children.
My family stayed very active in the church while we were in Hawaii and of course with my dad’s life choice or his career at the time required him to be away from the house and at times for months, we had first had a house in an area of Hawaii called Kailua, I attended Kailua elementary, from there we moved to Kaneohe where I attended Ahuimanu elementary. I had a run in with law while at Ahuimanu elementary school, I had brought a lighter to school and got into trouble for it, and this was the same school where I met one of my closests friends, I would stay over at his house at times and I can remember playing with those light brutes and we even used to make little keychain devices, the kind where you make them out of plastic beads and use an iron to hold them together I don’t know if you can imagine or picture what I’m talking about, but this friend of mine, his name was Kamanaohe, (it is a day after yesterday which is the day I started writing this and even though yesterday I didn’t write the names down but today I’ve decided that I will write that I will write down their names although I will probably vary the spelling as to protect their own identities, I’d doubt that most of the people mentioned here will read this, still it’s not an excuse to respect their privacy).
I had an older sister who was my primary teacher at church, in my younger years I was so naïve that I would ask all of my potential friends to be if they were Catholic or Mormon, I never understood why religion is such a taboo subject to talk about and why for me was it between these two religions, Catholicism and Mormonism. Church in those days was and still is at least the gospel side, the only aspect of my life or my existence that matters, one day in primary I was asked why was the Sabbath Day sacred, my answer was because it’s Sunday and the sun is out, I was kid and at the time it made complete sense to me, I never questioned my testimony in fact it was at this stage in life where I would begin to get up on the pulpit every fast Sunday and would say my testimony, it was one of those repetitive ones, I’m grateful for the church I know that Joseph Smith Jr was a true prophet and I love my family in Jesus name amen, or something along those lines, this was my beginning of telling a robotic answer of what I believed in. This habit followed soon with the other duties of a LDS youth, a Mormon youth.
After this point in my life my family decided to make the move to Salt Lake City Utah, it was my dad who first left Hawaii, we’d find out later that it was due to a bust that had occurred at the mansion we first arrived at when we got to Hawaii, my dad would get ripped off by a cop on his payroll about the raid and he does Hawaii to the mainland. It was up to my mom to sell everything like the house and all of our stuff we didn’t plan to take with us to the mainland, to be quite honest my mom took allot of care of us and was my support throughout my life especially when my dad was gone.
Even with the truth that I know about the advanced world and our true selves, what little that I can conceive or have had been able to grasp with the truth of this work, I find it difficult to comfort my family with the feeling of peace that I have come to know about all of this, this nothingness, I know that unless she has decided that she still has things that need to be learned on this planet that I will see her in her true form when all is said and done.
The first place that we went to was LAX, to be with my mom’s family in Inglewood California, I loved my mom’s family they were in poverty and they weren’t LDS, so there was a stark contrast between my dad’s side and my mom’s side.
My mom’s family had what was normal smoking drinking and those kinds of things while my dad’s family were all very strict LDS for the most part of course my dad’s side had some of other faiths as well but for the most part they were LDS. But the one thing both had was the strict Tongan Culture background, now talk about a volatile mix of hierarchy and order it’s a Polynesian LDS family, I love them, and I see them for who they are and there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. As I’m writing this I’m seeing the serious attacks on me from the adversary and his world, it truly is a blessing for me to know the truth albeit it is so difficult at times to see past all of the nonsense and noise that I have allowed myself to become familiar with, it’s not them it’s me and I’m grateful.
We stayed in California for a few months until my dad came back to us and had us assured that we’d be going with him, we traveled through the desert of Las Vegas and I distinctly recall the signs that were clad with half naked women and what not, it was past this desert where I would find my home where I would grow in stature, and become more acquainted with the religion of LDS, it’s protocols principles standards and works, it was through this church that I had found what I would call my faith.
My home was and is called Saint George Utah, the Dixie, or SoTah as I’ve come to call it, it was in this community that I grew to become somewhat of the individual that I am now, a and this is according to the standard of the world, convicted felon, high school drop out, drug addict and wife beater, a low life unworthy of any praise or attention that is fit for any person who holds the Priesthood Authority or any Latter Day Saint, oh and this is one that is sort of an oxy moron, a white washed uncle Tom and yet at the same time a racist and also oh a creep bum. These are titles that I have only due to what I’ve heard about me and no I’m not, there are actually a slew of other things that could be put here but I’ve not wanted to put it yes these are terrible things and I’m holding onto the negative but I didn’t come to the realization of this work by seeing the bad in people, no I saw the good in all of my peers and enemies and when you see nothing but the good in people and you don’t recognize or are naïve to their faults you get the title or persona of being a weak fucktard that is easy to get taken advantage of, a doormat, it’s funny how that works isn’t it.
I arrived in Saint George at around the age of nine or ten, we first stayed at a motel called the Knights Inn at the end of Bluff Street, back when there wasn’t anything in this town. I’ll try to keep this as personal as possible with any and all facts that I can, my life wasn’t complicated but rather it was boring, monotonous to say the least. We didn’t plan on staying in Saint George it just happened, my dad planned on moving to Salt Lake City but he said that the city had changed or in other words it wasn’t that safe for us and that Saint George would be a better fit for us to be raised in a proper manner, and if you’ve ever been to Salt Lake City the Polynesian but especially the Tongan Culture is very prevalent there, as well as is there a heavy influence of gangs and with his lifestyle notoriety it probably would’ve ended bad on our end as kids.
Even if the God of this world is Lucifer I’m grateful to know that there are True Messengers that also influence men and women on a more intimate level, and what I mean by that is sure the tempter uses the cognitive weaknesses of the mind and flesh to get us to have a sense of pride and seeking validation and accolades by creating this false standard that we allow ourselves, but the True bearers of the message have interacted personally with men and women through there vibrations that are caused in there throats to carry this sound to us, I like the way that Christopher put it, so few to the many,. I want to stay with these few, with hopes of the promised blessings.
Saint George was very different than the islands, landlocked within the desert as opposed to the wide open ocean, the population was very very different. There was nothing but white people and natives and mexicans, but allot more white people than anything, it’s not that I wasn’t used to kids as kids, I was reading in the Deseret Newspaper a phrase that stuck out to me which was his intent, I can see that now, not in a in your face way but in a shit this is what the rest of America wanted us to see our childhood as, I think damn how fucking pathetic is the rest of this goddamned country, when I think of Saint George and in a sense Utah, I think of the parable of the five foolish virgins and the five wise virgins, America and the rest of the spoon fed mainstream media Americans are these foolish virgins that actually had oil yet not enough of it and Saint George and in a sense Utah are the five wise virgins who were prepared with oil, yet in this parable the foolish virgins are taking the oil of the wise virgins, there it is again, pride fuck pride, fuck America and fuck Utah fuck everyone why should I give a shit about people that don’t give a fuck about anyone else but themselves?
Oh wait and here it is this is where I love this work, I get to love these people all ten of these virgins symbolically and I have one person to thank and that is Christopher, the True Messenger, as I sit here and try my hardest to love those around me even if I want to I see that I am inadequate in solving any fucking problem that is in this world and as much as I want to I selfishly get a fucking pass because I get to love myself and my neighbor, hell I even see how selfish I am when, hold on this is a therapy moment and no I’m not mocking I’m grateful that there are individuals whose self worth money aside is to help people like myself get coping skills to use.
Here it is, I see my selfishness when I am at my mom’s funeral and I know that I will receive a new body an advanced perfect body as will my mom when I am no longer here, and as I sat there excited by truths that this marvelous work has confirmed, the being who is Christ, still has a broken bruised torn one, it is this one question that keeps me humble and close to the work, after Christopher’s video about the fifth member I was left thinking damn, what about Inpendius, in his post he stated watch how the crazy theories you will come up with after being exposed to this work without the continual truth to guide you, I grew up believing this process to be called modern day revelation, as opposed to the real truth that has always been and never changes, yet can only be understood line upon line, modern day revelation comes at times at the convenience of, well I don’t know how to word that one when I do I’ll get back to this.
It is February 17, 2021 and on the radio station it’s funny because the host is talking about this thing that is associated with the ethnicity question which does factor into this subject that I have left off on yesterday, now when I go around the world I notice that even the politicians who subject the masses to their order or their view of order requires this same process called modern day revelation, yet they call it laws and use the voting process allowing the masses to think that they have a say or control in what is happening, this is the best option for the hierarchy, yet at the….as I am writing and preaching I’m feeling my ego being stroked I have done this for too long, this ego stroking shit and I can now step away from it. I don’t know exactly where I am on this bio timeline speaking wise so I’ll just track it to where I think I am, because I am writing this on a phone it’s super slow and it’s frustrating as well.
When we first arrived to Saint George I was aged eight and had been in third grade, the school I attended was called Dixie Downs Elementary, which the name of the school has now changed to Dixie Sun Elementary, my teacher was Mrs. Forseberg and I remember at the end of the school year doing a presentation for the parents, which became common practice throughout elementary school, at least here on the mainland. I befriended a few kids right off the bat, I was part of the kids and I guess now I see how people in small towns will gravitate towards new people, whether to befriend them, or worse hate on them. I still see some of them around town every so often, yet our conversation is short if I approach them, it's funny how time does that.
Yeah so I just realized this autocorrect will put words in that don't actually have any sort of meaning like short to shirt, I will eventually go through and edit it but for the time being it's an error that has to be, this reminds of a lesson I had in church one time where my teacher was pointing out an error in the book of Mormon, where it stated the word "the", twice, I believe they've fixed it since.
After this grade was fourth where I found myself in a brand new school building in Ivins called Red Mountain Elementary, I had Mr. Anderson and he was an advocate of the arts so I played a servant named Hortensio in the Taming of the Shrew, a play by Shakespeare, I don't know what ever happened to the two main characters but I do remember they had a scene of a kiss, on the cheek of course, the face cheek, damn the times truly do take away the innocence that I once enjoyed, but everyone in the class kind of made a big deal out of it, I remember my teacher saying to tell our parents to be mature when the scene came up, yeah really.
After this year I was in fifth grade and I played in a civil war enactment, where of course naturally my teacher put me on the side of the Union, yet to stir up controversy and because one of my good friends was on the side of the Confederacy I would, "spy", for them. I didn't understand it then but when I told my teacher about this plan he had a strange look of disapproval on his face, and well damn I didn't understand the magnitude of what that may or may not have been symbolic of. This was actually a great year in my life where I had one of the most fantastic learning experiences that I would reflect on in my life, I believe the whole spying fascination came into my mind due to my earlier role in that class as playing the part of a man named, "Benedict Arnold", it wasn't a play or anything I just had to do a role where I gave a little schpeel about him, as well as was I a reading buddy to one of my neighbors. I guess now I look at it as, a small town thing where they almost play matchmaker or something but maybe it's the time thing once again, rearing it's ugly head to say, no this is how your childhood really was, only to take what little gems there are and make them nothing but something to scrutinize.
After this year it gets sort of complicated because I would find myself getting kicked out of school for a few years in a year for a being a little trouble maker, and plus sixth grade was an alright experience except my teacher's aide literally made me feel uncomfortable and I never really talked about it, we were playing baseball and I didn't know how to swing a bat and well she took the liberty to show me how to swing it by caressing me while I had the bat and holding me with the bat in its place from behind and no for that instance it's not time it's me literally telling you that was fucked up and I don't know why anything wasn't done, I mean my teacher saw it, but fuck it.
Anyways after this I would go to middle school seventh grade had no incident then in eighth grade I'd be expelled for selling a dime bag of weed to a classmate. This isn't as significant of a memory as my church experience, I would start the process of me getting to exercise my Priesthood Authority, I became of age to pass the sacrament as well as start boy scouts, and this is where I might add or say something I do still feel strongly about, that even though I've found this work and it's opened my eyes, I still feel compassion towards these peoples who've watched me throughout my life, you guys have to understand that when my father was busted by the Drug Enforcement Agency, DEA, and the Federal Bureau of Investigations, FBI, we had no one and nothing to help us except the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and so it was the members more or less that I feel strongly for, their support and help through these times really did help us and me have somewhat of a decent childhood at least in regards to a roof over our heads and what have you, of
course we'd have to "volunteer" every Saturday and set up the chairs at church for the service on Sundays, as well as did we clean the church. But shit I'd be lying if I said, "I hate them and everything they stand for." because I don't, but I do know that they are in error in their ways and in their doctrine, if they only accepted this work for what it truly was, I mean I read the letter in the Sealed Portion, and I have a copy of it, I wish the leader's would've heeded to this message and this is where it gets really interesting, but yeah before I go on I have to tell you about me and my life because it's kind of relevant.
One day after me and one of my teachers, which the rank after deacon, came back from collecting fast offerings and I remember this event clearly, it was almost a precursor and it solidified my testimony in the truth if what is contained in the sealed portion, not the scripture part but in Appendix 2 where Christopher states,
"This group of humans, however, I do not fear nearly as much as I do the modern Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints."
Yes, I can vouch for that and I'm sure I'm not the only one in this group who can, but I mean shit they'll destroy you with things as pertaining to the ways of the Gentiles, they have this shit on lock, but back to my experience, so we've gotten back and had returned the envelopes to the clerk and Bishop, when one of the men called me and my companion over to him and said, "There are two boys skateboarding on our property, take care of it.", he said this and gave us both a look, and I might've judged the look wrong but I thought he meant go and kick their asses and make sure they don't come back here and skate on the property, and so yeah, that's what I did, undying loyalty to the calling that I had.
And so yeah I would start this thing where I stayed home and went to a school called the Focus Center, it's a part of the alternative school, (and when I say alternative school I mean the school that the kids who get pregnant would go to and it's a place known to have had troubled kids go to, but I've actually met alot of talented young men and women from this school), that you go to once a week to get take home packets and test once a week to go over the things you read on the packet.
I would go to this program again the next year as I would get expelled again for bringing a knife to school, with the intent to harm someone, or at least that's what the officials were led to believe. I would stay home, clean the house, cook the food, and do my packets with no sort of human interaction except for church, which is what I grew to love. I'm not going to lie and say that I was at home reading the scriptures because I wasn't, I didn't read the scriptures or the full account of the Book of Mormon until I was 27 years old about, when I was incarcerated in Purgatory Correctional Facility, in Washington County, but that's not till some time after this part of my life.
So then came the year of my life when I attended a full year, it was the beginning of high school, I went to school in Utah, where your sophomore year is your first year in high school instead of freshman. I had the experience of going to seminary as well, this was alright I had gone in my freshman year as well and actually still went even when I was expelled, my teacher there was Brother Weaver and here in high school was Brother Bentley. I remember
something I won't forget that is something I should point out not justify anything but to lay out what sort of influence I had in my life, my seminary teacher asked us all in class, "Do you think that you are better than the kids in your school who aren't Mormon?", no one said a thing, "Well you are better because you're Mormon.", he told this to a group of kids who were starting to their life's and coming into the corporate world, I now feel this emotion of I suppose to call it, calm, I wish there was another way to say it.
I finished this year in my life and was faced with something that hardly anyone else goes through, I skipped out my whole year and got held back intentionally, for sports, damn, shedding light on this is so fucking, wow, but yeah if you knew the background story it'd help but I'm not going to get into it, like I said it's not the people I have a problem with, maybe in southern Utah it's different but I hate having to do this but I know that I found the truth and I just want the other people that I've known to know the prophecies that we grew up believing are beginning to unfold and I wish they knew the whole thing, as opposed to what little information they do have, which is good but it isn't at the same time. And when I say whole thing I mean the whole book of Mormon, with the Sealed Portion.
I once heard them say they don't need it. But yeah damn, I took this year off and went back and forth to Texas to help my dad while he was working for TDOT, or the Texas Department of Transportation, within this time or around this time my grandma had passed, on my dad's side, if you've never been to a traditional Tongan funeral you've probably never experienced death the way it shouldn't be seen as, although there are movies that depict this kind of thing, one in particular, which I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a personal favorite, The Other Side of Heaven.
But in Texas we'd travel from DFW, Dallas-Fort Worth, to east Texas, these small cities called Jacksonville, Bonham, and Greenville, cleaning buildings that were used as their corporate offices. This was a fun time and experience, I spent a lot of time with my siblings and family at this time, we always were really close growing up, not so much anymore and I have no clue as to what the fuck happened, not a damn clue although I have my theories.
I would attend school the next year held back and attend only half of the school year and do packets or something the rest of the year while working, I worked a full time job at Del Taco and I would be embarrassed when these other kids my age would come in for lunch, I felt like below them, I don't know why I just did. I wouldn't end up keeping any of my hard earned cash, my family was going through financial problems and everything helped whether I wanted to or not, I don't give a shit anymore, I used to whine about this but it's useless plus there's more to it.
The next year was the same story, although I wasn't even on track to graduate so I finished off my senior football season and dropped out and started working again, at different spots in town, a Dollar Tree a Taco Bell, and the same feeling of inferiority always consumed me.
Oh on a small side note, I started to do really fun things like smoke weed, drink alcohol, and take pills, as well as did I engage in what had been considered graffiti, robbing peoples homes, stealing from cars, stealing liquor from Nevada WalMarts and bringing it back to Utah, bootlegging technically, I even robbed a place of business and those sorts of things. Yeah really, and I'm not proud of that shit, when it states in the scriptures where Christ says, "...thou shalt not come out of prison until thou hast paid the uttermost senine.", I testify that it is the truth, at least that is the case with me.
I've always heard you'll end up dead or in jail, but no you only end up in jail, whether spiritual prison or physical prison, because the truth is we all die. I'm not surprised where my life took me, but shit I'd be in a whole lot more of a spiritual mess if it wasn't for this work.
When I wasn't working or doing packets to try to get credits for my high school diploma I was taking flights back and forth to Texas or California picking up kava for my dad.
As I was growing up my mom, technically step mom, had a job at Skywest Airlines, and because I was her son she had me on her benefits as well as all of us and with this came the ability to fly for free, it was stand by which meant that I could get a seat on the plane if there was an open seat, or if someone had missed there flights, this actually happened a lot more than you'd think. Thanks to these people randomly missing their flights I was able to fly back and forth, from the Saint George regional airport to SLC International Airport or DFW International Airport to LAX, I can now think back to the flight attendant explaining how the safety exits on the plane are to be used, and to find the nearest exit which may be behind you. And then the way to buckle the seatbelt and all that, so yeah this is how I was able to get the kava.
Now for those who are not familiar with what kava is, this is the pepper shrub, or in Latin Piper Methyscium? Part of this plant or the roots is ground up into powder and mixed with water and drank, this is done in a social setting and is part of my peoples' culture. I would take flights and pick up loads of these shipments and bring it back to Saint George when I was younger. I can't tell you how many flights I've been on or how much ginger ale I drank while on these flights (this was my preference of drink while flying). It was a great time, strictly business of course. After I'd touch down from my trips I would break down the big bag and scale them into smaller bags, with the help of my brothers, this was really a fun time and I do enjoy looking back at this time.
Now somewhere within this time period, I had run into, or had my first encounter with incarceration. I had shoplifted some cough medicine, triple C's or Coricidin Cough and Cold, and attempted to run out of the Lins marketplace. While running, a cashier decided to stand in my way, hindering my route out of the store. So the initial charge was a robbery, due to the physical contact, (which was very small and necessary for me to get out), that I made with the cashier. And so I spent some time in juvenile, or D.A.D., Dixie Area Detention. This was not that fun of an experience and I promised myself that I'd never come back to incarceration ever again, but damn was I wrong, ever so wrong.
The worst part about this ordeal is the fact that the Bishop of my Ward at the time was a pharmacist at this Lins so he knew about my ordeal. I would later run into this man under a new set of circumstances and would begin to notice that just because a person had a calling in the church doesn't mean that they are that person 24/7. How ignorant of me to think that someone's spiritual standing should be congruent with their outward character in the world. This is something that was and is a huge disappointment to me.
I would continue doing these sorts of things until it came time to face the fact that I wouldn't graduate on time, so I would either have to be a super senior or drop out of school and get my GED, and so that's the route that I took. I dropped out of school completely and got my GED from Dixie State College in 2009. I would work the graveyard shift at Walmart doing maintenance, which meant I would scrub the floor, clean the bathroom, take out the trash and those sorts of tasks.
At about this point, is where I delved further into my drug addiction, I started phoning into the Walmart hotline and call in sick for work. Having a hotline to call was more convenient for me as I didn't have to have any sort of contact with a person but rather I'd just have to push a few buttons and I'd be excused. On these nights I'd skip work and just get high or drunk. I had a friend who I went to school with working the same shift as me and he's come with me every now and then.
Then came one bad night where I'd make a dumb decision. Myself and a few of my associates went around our small town and tagged on a few buildings, schools to be more exact. Even though we'd done this on a few occasions, the thing about this time is we got caught. We were adults, by definition, so it made us of age to go to jail. My first friend who I worked with spent a few hours in jail and was bailed out. He only got caught due to his vehicle on the Security camera. After he went in, due to process of elimination, and with this being my first encounter with the police as an adult, I and my other associate went into jail, Washington County Purgatory Correctional Facility. We spent a few hours in there and my parents bailed us out and got us an attorney. I don't want to get into too much of the details as we were guilty and all, but one of my codefendants after he'd gotten everything cleared up went on a two year service mission for the church and to be honest that was the plan for me as well, but I never did.
I prepped for my mission and for those who don't know the process you have to have or go through these interviews. I had gone through the first interview with my Bishop and then came the interview with my Stake President, where I told him about a sexual transgression that I had with a girl I knew. He told me to wait a year and prepare. During this time I had been working and I got into a fight with my dad, both verbally and physically, the saying of "Don't bite the hand that feeds you.", is definitely true, I bit the hand that fed me and ended up on my own.
This was a bad night but we were arguing about that evil, money, this thing that this work has pointed out to me. When I say I have a testimony of the truthfulness of this work, I do so with my whole being, from first-hand experience of what I've been taught and what I've been through. After this argument occurred, which of course my dad pointed out how I can't actually manage my money while on drugs is completely true, but I had reason to be
angry above it. I felt shorted and robbed, betrayed but I could never tell them all of this until later on in my life. I actually have it all recorded on my MarcoPolo. It's, well, what it is. But more to that when the time comes.
So we are arguing and in the middle of the argument I tell my dad to F off or something to that degree. Afterwards, I walk to my room to get my things and he follows me, which I then took the opportunity to swing on him. I have never regretted something as much as I do when I physically assaulted my dad, my hero, the one who'd been more than a teacher to me but a friend in ways that only I could understand, and I'm certain that others have had a connection with people in their lives, but in the heat of that moment I hit him. After, of course, I got jumped on by my brothers. Remember I have eight of them, and they are all fairly big dudes, I'm one of the smaller ones, possibly the smallest one. They are all very active and athletic.
I left the house and my relationship with my dad was never the same after that incident. I stayed at a few places that my Bishop helped me get into, I was in a garage of a nice family for a few months and then I got into room of a townhouse by the Virgin River, at the end of 2450 E. I would stay here until I went out to the Bay Area of California, where I would spend some time. It was here where my biological mother lived with her husband, my step father, or at least this is his title according to the courts of the Gentiles, Redwood City California, Mid Peninsula.
This was a different sort of experience, in all honesty. It was here where I met and got to understand the other half of me, biologically. The woman who birthed me, she was a devout Pentecostal, a Gospel Singer for the AOG, Assembly Of God. Man, in the movie Training Day, there a scene where one of the characters asks another, "What's the matter, you a Mormon or something? Huh, Jesus freak?", well, yeah that is what I would go ahead and see when I got to California, those kinds of worship services where the crowd has their hands up in the air eyes closed or doing some crazy stuff like opening and closing really fast and rolling to the back of their heads, while they are screaming incoherent words. This religious experience was very much what I needed to see, and as I did, I wondered to myself why in the world did they ever call Mormonism a cult?
But it wasn't just the AOG I became acquainted with. My step father was a devout Catholic, Irishman, Union Worker, Republican, oh and I forgot to mention that he was a retired millionaire that was about thirty or forty years older than my biological mom. You know those cliche couples of an old rich white guy marrying some gold-digging somewhat hot or sexy immigrant? Well, picture that, and that's exactly the scenario I was walking into. Very uncomfortable to say the least. But I mean the guy didn't really care and he had two kids with her.
I would end up living in a nice rich neighborhood off of Woodhill Drive, and it was across the street from a small college called Cañada, (Con-Ya-Dah), College. I would use the resources that were available to me and attend this school for about half a semester before I would drop out. I made a few friends easy and right off the bat from school. They were intrigued that I was from Utah, a small town that no one's ever heard of and, to be honest, in the Bay some of them never even heard of Utah, but I would spend my time smoking weed and doing cocaine. I tried to find heroin there but it was of such a low quality that it was better just to stick with the other stuff.
While I was there, I read and learned about the Beats Generation and to be as quick as possible, a guy associated with this generation wrote the first book to be banned from America. The book was called Howl. I read it. It's not too bad, but it was because of the influence of the Beats Generation that I had decided to drop out and go on the road.
My relationship with my birth mom didn't actually get any much better and I never got any of the answers I was literally thirsting for about my early life, I had so many unanswered questions that remain to this day, unanswered. I'll just have to wait for death, and I'll get a chance to consult the A.N.G.E.L., which I'm fine with, but not really. Also, on top of the strain of lost time with her she was still very much a strict Pentacostal and it scared me. She was so afraid of me being a Mormon and she always talked about it being the Devil's Church and all of this crazy stuff, but I mean come to find out, all religion is of the devil if put in that context. They are all a man-made institution to put a mortal concept on an infinite deity which is just evil in and of itself. She was also stivery much into her Tongan Culture,and spoke very broken English and so she would really be hard to understand and talk to, it broke me inside, will I ever be healed?
Woman have always been a shit storm for me if I can be quite honest, I wasn't really treated that good by my mom, my biological mom was a gold digger, the love of my life had not only broke my heart but stepped all over that shit and I just know that the next woman or girl I let into my life will do the same, they always do, the only exception to the rule is, my two daughters. Honest to God and the Devil, they are the best thing in the world, a piece of Heaven that I don't deserve. They exist and I'm okay with that. if I die right now I'd die happy knowing that I had gotten to meet them.
But anyways, to completely mess up the relationship that I had with my biological mom, I robbed her husband of a few thousand dollars and since he was an avid gun collector I took those too and sold them in Sacramento. It was terrible. I still, to this day, regret that I did that and not only until coming to this did I start to look back at the bullshit I've done and did I have some remorse or start to, no one deserves that. To be let into a home with open arms and love only to be screwed over, this is why I prefer to be alone, not that I do prefer it, I just like one better than being in a crowd. But still, to open up now, I'll leave the door open to hurt someone or to have them hurt me, and since I've been freed all I've been is hurt. Only on a few occasions have I not been hurt. But hey it was actually cool.
So, after I had stolen all of this stuff, I took a journey just like how a few of the Beats Generation did. I found a cave in Northern California where there was a notebook in the cave with all sorts of entries in it by different people who went to the cave. They would write and leave a little memoir in the journal for the next traveler. But my trip to California wasn't all that fun in the end I ended up getting jumped and arrested and sat in Roseville City Jail, there was a missing person report filed on me after the burglary. And so I got picked up from jail by my birth mom and got a ticket to Las Vegas to come back to Saint George.
Oh, also while I was there did I take a few trips to Hawaii, stayed at five star hotels and what have you, really lived a rich person's life and I learned the ways of how corporate America works, in the words of my step father, during our team huddles as he would say. But to be honest, he was a cool guy. I think he would've opened his mind to this work if he was alive.
After that whole incident occurred, there was a sense of relief but a bit of betrayal, which went unspoken. When I say unspoken I mean as to me really saying anything in defense of what I had done. Now, of course it was never mentioned out loud, but there was always an awkwardness after I had done something I thought I needed. During one of the Family Home Evenings, I had told my family that I was glad to have gone out to California to meet my biological mom, but I apologized for doing it as well, which is something even I don't understand why I did it until later. And the reason I said I was sorry was because I was a people or person pleaser and I wanted them to know that.
You have to understand that I had never been told about my biological mother until I was fourteen. As I was growing up and going to family functions I would see her (my biological mom's) side of the family at these different family functions and there would always be an awkward silence during these moments. And perhaps it has something to do with my dad's occupation of being a drug trafficker, but I do believe the Church and the Priesthood Authority played an even bigger role. Plus, they spoke fluent Tongan and I didn't. So they'd (my dad and these strangers, whose eyes would be filled with tears) be having a full on conversation and argument in a foreign language. As these people would touch my fave or the side of my shirt as well as my brothers and they'd want to hold or hug us, only to be held even closer and tighter by my dad. Yeah, fucking drama, and you know what? It was all just unfair and unfortunate. Looking back, I wish I could've been privileged like other normal people in this situation who had the whole step parent aspect in their household growing up, but no, now I'm left to fix it all, or should I say just live with it. The family unit being an evil is something that I cherished which this understanding is only found within this work.
As this was all going on, what had been happening with my family is sort of relevant, but my brothers had all gone on missions except for three of us. They all had gone to college together. They had enrolled at colleges like Snow College, Eastern Arizona College and other schools, all together, and they left me, the kid who had sacrificed his childhood to work and provide for them and also to babysit them. Yup, they left me hanging, but it all worked out. And yes, I was angry about that for a long time, I would sit there and ruminate on all of that and it's bewildering to think all that I did for my family, all of the time I sacrificed, at the time I didn't think anything of it all, but now that I'm older I realize that I had been treated as what is called in the P/PC equation as what I was capable of providing financially for my family, without any lip or opinion at all. Am I bitter about this? No but I was and I acknowledged it and told them in 2020. Maybe if I can upload the video of the conversation I will, but for now back to this.
So I believe by this time it was the year 2012, October, to be more exact, and my mom had been in contact with a family friend of mine when she had made a suggestion that I go out to North Dakota. This was after I had done a few months in Purgatory, which is the county jail in Saint George Utah. Of course I had been working at Wendy's at the time and was living in and out of people's homes and had been involved in a huge legal issue already. A friend of mine, (I made friends easy and I had actually found these two kids that needed a place to stay and I helped them out), had just been arrested and sent back to Nevada. They had stolen a truck and this truck had been confiscated. We had parked it in the desert and a few days later, me and two other associates went to retrieve it, as well as some firearms that had been stolen as well. Then we got rolled up on by two detectives, these are the fancy kind of cops that wear white shirts and ties with a badge and pistol on their hip holsters. It wasn't a good deal. They asked us why we were out there and, of course, we already had a planned story in case of such a scenario. We each told them we were looking for a lost dog. All three of us said the same story, even though we were all asked in separate locations, and since it all matched up and they had no other reason to hold us, they didn't. Yeah, if I didn't go to North Dakota at that moment in my life I'd have been in a whole heap of a mess. North Dakota changed my life.
A part of my essence will always love that place, the fog in the mornings rising out of the Missouri River as we crossed the bridge of the twin cities of Mandan and Bismarck, the whiteness of the snow and how it blinded me during the midday, literally as Joseph Smith Jr described it. The cold over there was so beautiful because of what was waiting for me there. December 23, 2012, was a normal day over there. I had been in the motion of working carpentry, for a few months there and it was after work hours, I had been hanging out with one of the boys from the crick, Colorado City, who I grew a close connection to. He had served an LDS mission in Mozambique Africa, the same place as one of my brothers. He had known about him, and he was the one who trained me on how to frame. If you've ever met those guys from the crick, you know that they have a great work ethic and I'm a fast learner and I want to learn too, so me and him naturally made a great pair.
But it was after work and I had been driving around with him to a small ghost town in North Dakota and we were in a bowling alley parking lot when he suggested that we go see a movie. I got on the phone and looked up theaters in the area and found one, The Century Movie Theater. It was a big theater and had a few movies playing, so I mapped it out on my phone and gave home directions. On the way, we got lost, and it must've been the snow or something but we ended up pulling into a smaller theater called the Carmike, it was at a mall. I remember two malls in the area Kirkwood and the Century Mall, I forget which one it was so long ago and right now it kind of hurts to look back at the details of this day, you know this is Joseph Smith Jr.'s Birthday too. But we got to the theater and I did not want to go in. I had been tired and my friend went in. I had waited in the truck and smoked a cigarette, slowly getting out to make my way in, when I finally got in, I was walking up to the ticket booth, when I just stopped and looked at what would be the most beautiful part of my life and painful too. I stared at this beautiful creature I was never meant to be with for a while. In the Sealed Portion, when Adam talks about us to look at our daughters and we will find joy, yeah I found joy, as well as every single emotion that is so far opposite of joy that day.
The way the conversation started, was I approached her and I just asked her about her. She told me that she was Hawaiian, and Mormon, and I knew that if there was a God then he had been leading me here. All my life was going to get better but it came with so much pain and heartache too. Since she is such a big part of my life I will sum up the next few years. I had four kids: two boys and two girls. We got married. She got baptized into the church. When we first met, she was going through the discussion with the elders and was planning on getting baptized, but didn't until we moved to Saint George.
I had continued doing that stupid wannabe tough guy bullshit druggie lifestyle and went in and out of jail and eventually ended up in prison. I would originally go to prison for possession of a dangerous weapon by a restricted person. (The weapon was a pair of broken brass knuckles that were inside of a backpack which I didn't have in my possession. But my ID was in it. I'm very familiar with how the judicial system in a small town in Utah uses the Secret Combination, or the powers of political and religious influence, to have their special outcome to fulfill their purposes, fuck them).
I finally got into an apartment and off the streets with her and my kids and we even had a family bible with our name embroidered in golden letters. When I would get into an argument with her after getting drunk and had a few cops arrest me as they were investigating the domestic dispute, this was in March 10, 2019.
This is when my life would change for the better. So, the way it works in Utah is they have open ended sentencing on your felonies so I had an initial 0-5 years, which means I had a maximum of serving five years in the Utah State Prison, but they'd let me out to see if I would follow the law and pay the fines. I would be good for awhile, and then go back to prison. This is called a parole violation. I've had three violations so far as I'll be off of paper, or out of the system in 07/2021. My first two violations were drug related and I served 30 days on the first violation and 90 days on the second violation. This violation that occurred on March 10, 2019 was a domestic dispute, and to be honest, I read Christopher's biography and I can relate to him and the way he was treated unfairly by Mormon judges. Although his reputation was a bit more bigger than mine was, I grew up in a small Mormon town, which is now one of the fastest growing towns in America, and was known as a trouble maker in system as you can see in my introduction. But in the police report that was filed on me they tried to make it sound a lot worse and when I do get a copy of it I'll put it up.
They said I was holding my kids hostage as I was drinking and beating my wife, yeah. Well, I won't expound any further, but no that was not the case. When I went to court on the next day, I was released immediately. But since I was on Parole, my Parole Officer put a hold on me, meaning I'd be transported to the prison within 3 days after I signed the waiver. I was planning on signing up for the Parole Violators Program, since I had never done it before. This means I would've only done 30 days in Draper and been released to a halfway house for a program that lasts for five to six months, but the waiver never came and I sat in Purgatory for almost two months waiting to be transferred. This is very unheard of and it really pissed me off knowing that they were fucking with me that bad. To be honest, they really didn't even have to arrest me, but they wanted to teach me a lesson I suppose.
I finally went to prison and had a board meeting for my Parole violation and since it was a violent offense, I got sentenced to serve eleven months in Prison. Yeah, also what made it worse was, because I sat in the county for two months instead of the three days which is what normally happens, I missed out on the Parole Violators Program which would've had me out of prison in thirty day. Yeah, I was really frustrated about how that all went down, but TPTB wanted this to happen to me. I know deep down in my essence that if I do have communication with my true self, then I was meant to have this happen. You see, I had gotten to be really spiritual before I went into prison on March 10 of 2019. I was prepping to go to the temple for my endowment even. To my dismay, my Bishop had told me that I had to wait till I got off of Parole in order to put in for a recommend and I argued him and said well, what about Joseph Smith, Jr. and Hyrum and all of the early saints? They were imprisoned and they had been to the temple. His answer was that they were unjustly imprisoned. I laughed and thought to myself, well, I wasn't unjustly imprisoned but there were certain things that happened in my case that were out of the ordinary.
While I was in prison this time, I stayed away from the usual stuff I would do, like the psychotropic med abuse or smoking weed and doing drugs. I stuck to the scriptures, and reading them, the church had come out with the Come Follow Me courses and I had gotten my hands on this literature. I was so excited. I got into the IPP, which is the Inmate Placement Program. It's a program that allows State inmates to be transferred to County Jails to be closer to their homes or to attend certain programs that will get them earlier releases. You had to not have a NMI Status which is No Mental Illness, in order to be in this program. There are a lot of mentally sick people in the prison, and if you aren't mentally prepared when you get to prison, you could end up getting that way in there. It just happens.
The first county jail I went to was Tooele County jail. It was a newer jail and I was there for a month when I was told I'd be getting transferred to a program called MRT, this is Moral Reconation Therapy and I needed to complete this course in order to be released from prison. This program was located in Cache County Jail. This jail also had a job for me in the kitchen and I was excited for that. You see, in prison if you don't have family to put money into your inmate account, you pretty much starve your ass off in there. And yeah, every time I ever went into lock up, my family would never help me out financially. They had other things that were important. I was on what is called the indigent list.
Other people in prison join up with gangs or get into relationships to not starve, but I didn't care. Every now and then, there'd be a Poly, (Polynesian), or Mormon that would look out for me, but for the most part, if I didn't gamble I'd be on that 2000 calorie diet. Legally, the state has to give you that many calories in order for you to survive. Every now and then, I'd get on a Vegetarian or Kosher diet to get more food.
I believe I arrived in Cache County in late September of 2019, this was one of the most secure jails in the state of Utah, they even say it’s one of the most secure and high tech ones in the nation, allegedly. If shit were to hit the fan and Utah were to have an apocalyptic scenario this county jail is where the President of the LDS Church would hide out, allegedly. In Prison you hear all kinds of crazy shit like that. But this stay would change my life. It is here in this jail, that I would find the work that would set me free, and damn what a place to find it.
In order to work in the kitchen, you had to wait in one of the regular pods before you got to the workers pod. So as soon as I got to the jail, I applied for the kitchen job. Every night they fed us bologna sandwiches, so I figured out that bologna is all the undesirable parts of an animal put into a mush and made into meat. This is the same diets the African slaves had. So I looked at me and my bologna diet as that of a slave.
The library in Cache County Jail was really a great library. Not too many jails have good libraries. Most of the books in jails are old books and they really suck. Actually, in Tooele County Jail the library books were also cool but not good. I say cool because they had authentic military books in their library which are very uncommon to find. I actually thought about putting them in my property, but didn’t. But yeah I learned a lot by reading in jail and prison libraries, as is the case with most inmates, such a pathetic state of existence, but the only escape is through books, and my favorite kinds of books to read are religious books, especially ones that were about the Mormon Doctrine. The words of the scriptures were a safe haven for me, Helaman 5:12.
The rock for me was rock bottom and in a prison cell is doesn’t get any more like a damn rock. I didn’t sleep on my prison mat for a few months this last stay. I just didn’t want to the cell floor was better. And to be honest, I’d read about the early saints and I’d be inspired by them, as well as by the Jews in the concentration camps. I remember complaining about food never was an issue I’d think about Man’s search for Meaning and I’d read a book called Kaffir Boy about African ghettos. I mean some books paint really vivid pictures with just words about how shitty peoples lives are. To be incarcerated in America, I still had it better than most of the world, and that’s a sad truth I’ve come to realize.
Oh small side note, I finally read the book of Mormon all the way through in 2016 while an inmate in Purgatory Correctional Facility. That book changed my life and I remember thinking, I want to be like the servant of Helaman, (the literal Anonymous), or Teancum, (stealth stamina and strength). I love this book and I knew after I read the book in 2016, that I would do all I could to be worthy of the sealed portion, yeah unlike most LDS who were privileged to read that treasure, I knew damn well that the words of the brother of Jared were to come. But I did have a thinking error. I thought I had to crack some sort of riddle in the scriptures, or a dark saying before I got it. I know that only Christopher and the RI have read my crazy and obnoxious suggestions I’ve sent to them. And I will never forget being humbled on a live show of CWC with my crazy shit. But damn, I thought I was alone in this world with this, and to be honest at times I still do. But I understand now it’s just my ego, damn bane of my existence. But it is because of my crazy shit, that I even got my hands on the sealed portion.
You see I had been frequenting the library at Cache County any chance I could. They had a lot of LDS literature and I was trying to get anything by Nibley or Larsen. I was trying to learn about Cosmism. I had been involved in that sort of work while I was out and didn’t want to lose any knowledge. Also, I had been practicing what keys I did have. In fact, every Sunday I would fast and take the sacrament even while I was incarcerated. I had been silently doing ordinances while locked up. In fact, after learning about the whole being a proxy thing for the dead, I decided to be a proxy for the dead SS and Nazi Soldiers who didn’t have a chance to take the sacrament. I figured they were in the Spirit World and if I took the sacrament for then and they accepted me as a proxy then through me they’d have the, “spirit to be with them”. I even started to do indexing. In fact, that is one of the biggest kept secrets of the LDS Church about the inmates in prison and jails around Utah. A lot of the names that are entered into the database for the ordinances for dead are typed in by incarcerated inmates who can't even go to the temple to get the endowment. Yet we can help them with indexing, which is very difficult in doing. Yeah, I spent years indexing as do a lot of other inmates.
But I was in the library one time when I was rechecking out Koe Tohi A Molomona, which is the Book of Mormon in my forefathers native Tongan language. You see, I wanted to learn and teach myself Tongan so I can speak at my dad’s funeral when the time comes, or any family function. It’s a long story but I’ll get to it eventually, probably not though, just ask me. When I saw The Sealed Portion, it was a huge white book with a depiction of the Golden Plates on it. I picked it up, thumbed through it, and noticed how odd it was that there was absolutely no footnotes in it. I read a few verses and said to the librarian that I want this book. He told me that he had purchased this book and had it sent in and that after he read it a few people were in line to read it and that I’d be the last person on the list to read it and I was just fine with that. After talking for a bit, he mentioned the 666 book and I told him about my answer to the 666 question. Which, of course, my answer was, if you take the three hundred and sixty five days and divide by the twelve months, according to the calendar we have, then the answer is 30.41666. The number six repeats itself forever and so I was told if a number or sequence of numbers repeats itself more than three times in any equation than you have to put a mark over it. Hence, the mark of the beast. After me and him say and I watched him as he pondered on this answer. I then told him about the talents of gold that the Queen Sheba gave to Solomon, and immediately after I said this, did he take out his book marker from the book and gave me the Sealed Portion. (I didn’t understand why until I read the sealed portion, why he did this, fucking crazy. And, yes it did actually stroke my ego, and I fucking hate it and I know damn well one of these days I’ll get ripped a new one again, by the way I’ve already been reprimanded by Christopher a few times. And it sucks because I just barely met him, e-meet is what we call it in this generation, but I know now more than ever, I was supposed to find this work, and in this manner. I’m grateful to have not been casted off yet).
The inmate's last name was, ‘Such’ and he had a brother so I always have said I came to this work by way of ‘Such and Such’. But it’s not all butterflies and rainbows. You see, Such was what is called a sex offender and in fact most of the people who attend church services in prison are sex offenders, which is why most people don’t go to church. I had gotten some shit for attending church the whole time I went for those many years. I was going in and out, but I never had to fight anyone for it although I had been in a few fights and although I don’t see myself below or above them I am not a S.O., fucking pride thing, it never ends.
It’s interesting and funny because there’s an interview that Tony Saikis did with the High Priest and he talks about the strange happenings that occurred while he was reading TSP, and guess what? When I was in Cache County Jail reading TSP, the whole fucking power went out. My celly who was a former Bishop told me to stop reading TSP and that I should only read material the church put out and after the power went out I literally thought about it, but I knew it was true and I knew that this was the book I was meant to read. I finished reading TSP in less than two months and after I read it I held onto it. I had never heard of it and Lucifer convinced me that I had the only copy and I had to smuggle it out of prison like how the Pauline Epistles were smuggled out. Yeah, when I say prison was a terrible place to find the work, I mean it. I had no phone calls, no letters, and there is no internet in there and Such and Such had been transferred right after I got TSP, so my ego was literally puffing me up. It was terrible.
But I had gotten the job in the kitchen when Such moved and I took his spot in the State workers pod. And it’s funny because he had been walking around with TSP and I moved right into his bed that he was sleeping in and had TSP. It was good though because there were other MWAW books in the pod: Human Reality, Without Disclosing my True Identity and 666, and I had TSP. Just having this book, I had a pass. These guys who had the other books knew Such and were waiting for the book.
The next book I read was Human Reality, and I finished that one in I think two weeks, I knew I had found the truth. The whole time I was telling myself I’m going to find this MWAW, and I’ll find this Christopher, and another part of me thought it was all a hoax and that this work didn’t exist outside of the jail. I was so torn and I was still attending church services, I would try to answer questions in church without telling the church teacher I had the books. It was kind of unfair and I did almost look like a genius and for that I apologize. But I would answer questions because I knew the answers and I was always careful not to tell the church teacher about the books. Word got to us in the pod that one of the books Such got us went missing, Sacred Not Secret. Yeah, it just up and disappeared. I’m certain I know why and how.
I read Without Disclosing my True Identity next and damn, this is the one book that came at such a crucial point. It was during this time that I was reading this book that the whole Ensign Peak and the church’s 100 Billion Dollar thing was on the news, which is literally what is in the books appendix. I knew it was a sign from God.
The nail in the coffin was the General Conference in October of 2019, Uchtdorf gave a talk and in it he states, “tell your friends about this Marvelous Work and A Wonder.” Now mind you, LeGrand Richards has a book titled that as well, but to me. I had been reading this work and it’s called a Marvelous Work and A Wonder. Even in TSP does it have it trademarked so that was it, I was convinced that God knew the church knew and I had to find Christopher as soon as I got released.
I finished Without Disclosing my True Identity and moved onto 666 and got to Chapter 9 of the book when I was transferred to prison for my release. I was excited to get out. I had something to look forward to. This MWAW was my new life and I literally had even got to talking to the mother of my children too.
I got out of prison in February 18 2020, just in time for Covid-19. I quickly got in contact with the RI and got to working, and sadly to my dismay the LDS Church could give a damn about the truth and that is there loss. It’s funny. It’s almost as if they taunt this work in the October 2020 Conference Elder Lund said he is, “One who knows”.
I think it might be a common phrase or a misunderstanding but yeah, anyways. I was living in the halfway house on ninth West in SLC. I stayed there for a little while till I moved to West Valley City and then to Salt Lake International Hostel for a few months. Then, on September 15th 2020, I made my way to Saint George Utah. It hasn’t been easy since finding this work, but damn it’s been worth it. I’m free and I’ve read every single piece of literature that Christopher or the RI has put out, although I’m still struggling with my Lucifer. I’m grateful to have access to the real truth. Thank you for reading my story, I love you.
Sampson Robin Katoa