Autobiography

At 7 days old I was abandoned by my mother in rural Romania to an orphanage. When my mother was 17 years old and had already given her first, a girl, up for adoption. She abandoned my sister and I to an orphanage and lived with her boyfriend because she had both of us as "friends with benefits" until Ceaușescu was removed from power during the Revolution. In 1990, my image along with my sisters was published in transnational child trafficking catalogs for sale at $13,000 each. My sister was not on the international adoption market, and because she disqualified for it (unsure why), when I was adopted, my mother chose to reunite with my sister and raise her.

On that day, December 28th 1990, I arrived in the United States for the first time as the adoptee of a new young American family local to the Bangor, ME area known as the Trimm family; founding family of Riverside Pizza in Brewer, ME. The adoption was conducted with the assistance of local and international non-profit organizations. Upon arrival, my identity was immediately changed from Andrei to Michael without notice or consent. Upon arrival, I couldn't speak. I couldn't speak in English. I couldn't speak in Romanian. I couldn't speak. As an infant, I was not exposed to listening to people talking. The orphanage was usually silent of words, only babble from abandoned babies.

Despite the hardships of the orphanage, I assimilated to the American culture and adopted the identity of Michael on a temporary basis. I grew up in a single wide trailer that received expansions over the years, but lacked a foundation. Not only was this lack of foundation necessary for my spiritual development, it would later become a symbol of the Rock that is found in Christ being what truly gives you stability in life, rather than if your house is sitting on a concrete slab or bricks. By the year 1994, I had picked up English and was placed under Psychological Evaluation for Complex Post Traumatic Disorder symptoms in my development. I was diagnosed with cPTSD. My social emotional development was significantly under-developed and it raised concerns for mental retardation, which was a common side effect to the neglect and trauma children like me experienced in the orphanage.

After assessing my level of intelligence by virtue of an IQ test, the psychologist declared that I was not subjected to mental retardation and that my behavior issues were by choice. In consequence, my family proceeded to raise me without early intervention services such as Occupational Therapy or Speech Language Pathology. Instead, as a family, we began camping each year at Abenaki Campground on Lake Wesserunsett in Madison, ME. Growing up I got to experience bike derby's, fishing tournaments, Easter in June, Christmas in July and the New Year in October. These annual celebrations became a rich part of the culture that I experienced in America. We had two Jet Skis and a Sea Ray sports boat that gave us endless fishing, water skiing and family fun. I won races and tournaments and lost a few. All in all, I had an incredible experience as a child.

Equal to that experience was the exposure to serious traumas that were chosen in leu of therapeutic services required to give a disabled child a fighting chance at life. I had a good mask, so to speak, that I was able to wear that everyone got to see. Immediately following my international adoption, the sudden change from a Romanian speech to English speech environment coupled with the immediate change in diet became sabotaged in assimilation efforts due to an unresolved inner conflict that I was living with. My name. There is power in names, which is why they are spoken with such intensity. I knew my name; even though I couldn't say "I am hungry" in Romanian. Nobody taught me how to communicate what was happening to my body to other people, as would traditionally be provided in early intervention therapeutic settings. Therefore, I grew up, physically from an infant to a child, without knowing how to identify what parts of my body were changing and how to express how I was feeling when things did occur. Nothing to this is perverted, as we are talking basic sensory needs of an infant who was exposed to extreme neglect and trauma in the orphanage.

So while I was out enjoying bike derbies and fishing tournaments; a spiritual war was brewing inside of me that I did not understand, and so I remained confused and ignorant to my true purpose in life and spent my time instead sabotaging everyone's ability to compliment me. I developed a hated from my being that was "you are so horrible that you were dropped off at 7 days old, thats how bad you are, that's how evil you, you deserved it." It was the brief moments of celebration and success that I was first introduced to the ego, and I declared war upon it because it was called Michael, and Michael is like God, and I am not like God. I am fallen. I was rejected at 7 days old because I am fallen. My lease expired. My experience expired. My battle would begin. My war started on December 28th 1990 when I stepped foot in the United States of America.

Spiritual wars begin in the home and in the heart. They begin when we are confronted with the temptation of knowledge and the danger it therein imposes unto thee. Therefore, throughout my own life journey and healing process, so to have I learned how to communicate it. Such to the degree that this an auto-biography. Nevertheless, when I set foot in America I began my life as Michael. Not by choice. But by providence. I was to experience the fallen reality of Adam myself first hand if I was going to also be the one who was going to undo it and deliver Christ from the snares of the Devil. How can one person do anything? By believing in God, because the strength is not in you alone but in Christ.

I am able to write this, without you know specifically yet what the traumas that I was exposed to were, and in due time you will understand why each and every one of them had to happen in order for us to get to the point in time where this is not a coincidence, you are not dreaming, these are my words you are reading, and I am testifying before God as my witness, as you as my witness. We shall know them by their fruits. My fruit, I share. This website has my fruit. My words are my fruit. They manifest and build for creation, for God, selflessly for all to learn who are willing to take the first step and begin reading with an open heart and mind to the things I've seen and heard from God, and how none of it engrandize myself, or lower your significance and calling to Christ, for you have been told that you will be expecting the voice of Christ to call you to act in service to others when they call out in need, and I write what I write because I am crying out in need to God for deliverance and salvation in Christ from this reality that we are trapped in collectively being controlled by the fall of mankind's own selfishness and greed that drives them to believe that it is okay to buy and sell in children, when it is not. When I ask you to join me, I ask that you join the fight for our children through the power of technology and OSINT that I am able to create.

Throughout the writings of this blog, I will be sharing new wisdom and knowledge for all to grow and ascend with. I am the publisher. I have God's permission. I act not for myself, but for Him who sent me.

Know that the spiritual war that I embarked upon when I stepped foot in America was declared victorious on October 28th 2017 just 17 months after stepping foot in Yokohama Japan, where I heard with my ears from the air "You are an alien." On October 28th 2017, I made the decision to vote for Donald Trump. I was a disgruntled Bernie Bro who was disenfranchised by the Democrat National Committee when they rigged the primary against Bernie Sanders and murdered Seth Rich for leaking the DNC Emails to WikiLeaks.

I am victorious in that spiritual war which is why I am able to write what I am able to write freely and without condemnation.

In school, I tested poorly but still passed my classes.