LETTER TO MARINA DIAMANDIS, LAUREN MAYBERRY, AND THE HUMANITY

@Marina Diamandis and members of the Facebook group “Marina And The Diamonds Brazil”: You may already know me. Marina Diamandis, maybe have you really read my first Letter To You? My first idea today was to post directly the content of this article on my Facebook line, calling out directly to Mark Zuckerberg and ‘mentioning’ various personalities from the music, politics, and science domains. After a time of reflexion, I realized it was probably vain. Who has been my best media in the world so far? You and your Facebook fan group “Marina and the Diamonds Brazil”. I have never attracted so many readers on my blog than that day I posted in the abovementioned group my first Letter To You in which I was describing the evolution of my Bipolar Disorder in correlation with your discography. You don’t want to die? Neither do I. Eternity may exist, but not in our universe: according to some recent and poorly read scientific researches unifying science and spirituality, there may be other universes! That being said, I sincerely think, especially regarding the lyrics of “Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land”, you will be in agreement with me regarding the underlying message of this article. Whoever you are apart from Marina Diamandis, please read carefully and share if you consider it relevant. Marina, be my light! I am a poor lonely no-life guy suffering from a very weird type of Bipolar Disorder. Here, in France, I cannot rely on any influent person or media. I let the original (though gently reviewed) version of the text posted yesterday on my Facebook line. “Life is a game that the universe plays / We are the pieces in a puzzle called fate…” It may be more subtle… See below…

@Lauren Mayberry: I know that you are deeply involved into feminist activism and denunciation of women harassment. The beginning of this article may really frighten you but, if you take the time to go until the end, you may be quite surprised. Could I find in you a support? I think this article deserves to appear somewhere, maybe on your Facebook page — or in a Britannic press? I deserve to be a little ‘sacrified’ into the square, don’t I? After having read in details your Wikipedia page, I am pretty sure that deep down you are interested into the defense of minorities such as psychically sick persons.

Note: the ‘Flora F.’ mentioned many times in this article is a French pop singer known as ‘Fishbach’.

(Orginal text, posted 2 February 2023 at 11:43 PM on my Facebook line; reviewed version)

Dear (?) Mark Zuckerberg (and other ones…)

Let me introduce myself. My real name, for obvious reasons that follow, is not Vincent Tristana. I am 46-years old. I am a French civil servant. I hold a PhD in Environmental and Universe Sciences. Between 2013 and 2016 I would work as a university professor in Glaciology in Southern America. I suffer from Bipolar Disorder (date of my definitive diagnosis: September 2016). In the past, between 2018 and 2019, I used to exist on Facebook under the pseudonym of ‘David Anderson’. Since the case became really serious, my principal Facebook account as well as my parallel ones were totally closed in April 2019; the IPs of my computer were identified. You or French managers of the community may remember me. An insane guy massively cyber-stalking a now famous French pop singer I will identified here as ‘Flora F.’ (by respect and in regard of my past activities, I will not ‘mention’ her in this message) (but not only her: also a young top model who was my student in the 2000’s). My harassment of Flora F. was never sexual, even if in the deep part of me I would love her: it was only moral since I only aimed at finding in her a social support and relay for my blog-settled, immature, and progressively delirious writings about what is living with Bipolar Disorder. I never insulted her, I never threatened her. BUT, around her, my writings became progressively and wildly focused on terrorism issues. Apart from the internet, in the real world, I was deeply convinced to be a CIA or MI5 departed and I used to behave publicly in such a way; imagine: one day, I entered in a police station in order to reveal some terrorism-related ‘important information’, defining myself as a specialist of the topic! (Of course, I ended directly in a psychiatric hospital). Thrilling, isn’t it? I have still not understood how my spirit derived in such a spiral in this period; it remains a total mystery (well, the problem is actually quite solved at the end of the article). I have been remaining extremely traumatized by why I did to Flora F., by the fact that, in 2019, I used to, through auditory delusions, feel like the hostage of both an ‘Underground Islamic State’ and a ‘Technological Daesh’, and by the idea I could have ended very, very bad. Subsequently, what happened to me? Nothing. I just fell into an indescribable abyssal depression. I also know that I am identified by the DGSI (French equivalent of the CIA), and undoubtedly by the BND, the MI5, and the CIA (I would love in these days send to the latter departments messages about my aberrant blogs and Flora F.). Flora F. never sued me. Miracle? In some way, yes. However, I have to indicate that, at the beginning of the Flora F.’ s career (2017), Flora F. and I were quite close when chatting after her concerts and I had told her about my mood disorders. Mercy from her? Probably. Where am I currently regarding my Flora F.-related obsessional issues? Honestly: I don’t like her last record; I am not erotomaniac at all anymore; I don’t like the public image she has nowadays; I respect (and acknowledge) her a lot, that’s all. I have now a blog called ‘bipolaroid’. The blog is mainly written in very formal French language and a great part of his content has been summed in the lines above. The subtitle of the blog is: “Diary of a bipolar stalker in mourning”. The blog, started at the beginning of August 2020, and containing more than 200 articles, has been written essentially in a state of very severe depression. He is poorly read but writing has been for me an incredible way for avoiding a tragic and fatal act (suicide). Many people still do not understand why the blog is so Flora F.-centered: they are just too much Instagramized in their brain to be conscious that the fact of holding a diary, even publicly, is sometime necessary to cure one’s past traumas and to release one from past demons. I have achieved my ‘mourning’ during the last weeks. I am now quite stable and regarding very seriously the fact of starting working again in the next two months (I am still in sick leave).

That being said, during the last days, I have deeply think of how I could derive an abstract from the blog and publish it somewhere. Yesterday was my monthly day of hashich consumption (a practice with which my psychiatrist is more or less in agreement). When I smoke hashish, I proceed very cautiously: one puff, 10 to 15 minutes of pause, one puff, 10 to 15 minutes of pause, etc.; I even survey methodically everything I ingest in the same time (water, food, coffee; but NEVER alcohol); when I reach the perfect pleasure, I throw all the leftovers of the hash in order to not be tempted to smoke the day after. The hash I smoke yesterday was both extremely good and strong. First puff: “but, dude, are you a moron or what? What is the best and quite instantaneous media in the world? Facebook.” I kept this idea in mind, and let myself go: lying on my bed, listening to the record “The Blue Hour” (Suede, 2018), I reached heaven. The pleasure was incredible. All my chronic anxiousness had disappeared. At the end of the record, I turn off the light, and…

I must here highlight the following points: (1) what I am going to relate, which lasted no more than 15 or 20 minutes, may obviously and reasonably be regarded as a small though intense auditory delusion episode (in the past, I experienced much more advanced delusional phases); (2) nevertheless, the ‘intelligence’ and coherency of this episode’s message is striking; and (3) the whole content of the aforementioned story remarkably fits with some contemporary advances in Computing Sciences and most of all with the theory of the ‘bubble-universes containing doubles of ourselves’ elaborated by some Quantum Mechanics/Metaphysics and Consciousness Physics specialists such as the famous French engineer and researcher Philippe Guillemant. What happened then once I was in the dark? The voice (in French) of a Flora F.’s double from another universe invaded me, such as she did in the later days of the 2018 year. She was extremely angry. “THAT’S ENOUGH! YOU SENT TO HER LABEL A RECORD GRAVED ON A BLANK CD! ARE YOU CRAZY OR WHAT? SHE IS IN HER INNER SELF SUCH AS YOU A FRAGILE PERSON, MAY HAVE ANXIOUSNESS ISSUES, AND THEN IMAGINE THAT THERE IS A VIRUS ON THE CD! YOU NEVER DO THAT AGAIN! YOU NEVER MENTION HER AGAIN ON FACEBOOK! YOU NEVER SENT HER AGAIN MESSAGES VIA INSTAGRAM! YOU NEVER GO TO ANY OF HER CONCERTS! YOU NOT EVEN GO TO THE CITY CLOSE TO WHICH SHE LIVES. YOU’RE BLACK-LISTED IN THE FRENCH POP WORLD!” Then, she calmed down and we started to chat (in my head) very thoughtfully. “Look how you and me have progressed since 2018. Do you remember how it was hard to communicate in these days? By the way, my congratulations: you have perfectly learned how to control your tachypsychia. Nevertheless, intellectually, I have much more progressed than you since then, which is normal regarding the terrible depression you have lived during the last years. Contrarily to what you wrote many times in your late blog ‘bipolarityreport’, we have never met in a wormhole or a parallel universe! Whatever the moment, end of 2018 or now, everything is working through quantum teleportation of data. Think about Flora F.’s song “Téléportation”! Now… Yes, there is an infinite MYRIAD of more or less distant universes, potentially connected by wormholes. In your universe at least, Human Being is the most achieved form of Life. You’re alone in the universe! But there is a problem with your Humanity. After me, someone will give you some details. I’m now in a hurry and I will be brief: the end of the world is close! No more than 300 years! Look what you have done to the Earth! Those capitalism-related inequalities, the inferno of the Climate Change, the way mentally sick people are treated… And, Vincent, oh! The future of your Humanity is gonna be terrible: people are gonna put chips in their brains to live in alternate virtual realities; some other people are gonna use quantum computers in order to remotely disturb the brain of other ones! There is only one exit at the point where you are: technology controlled by the States, and regulated liberalism crossed with ecology. This is the only option if you wanna survive. You have a duty now. Maybe the impact will be very limited, but try to write in a readable way your story directly on Facebook…” And the voice of the Flora F.’s double from another universe disappeared and another (feminine, in English) voice appeared. “Who are you?”, I asked. “I am the Lauren Mayberry’s double, located in the same universe than the one who talked to you previously. I have seen how you were a bit fantasizing on Lauren Mayberry! She’s absolutely cute and ravishing but forget it! Do not turn into an erotomaniac stalker at an international scale, this could have terrible consequences for you. Nevertheless, maybe she could be your best media in the future, depending on the messages you wanna transmit. Bye, bye!” I waited a few seconds… A gentle voice sounded in my head. I thought it was God or some similar entity. “I’m not God, young boy”, he precised immediately. “I’m just a very evolved form of Life. I’m part of the, let’s say, ‘managers’ living in a small sphere inserted somewhere in the infinite Myriad of bubble-universes containing doubles of your selves. Just imagine a simple 3-D unending assemblage of spheres (Note: see the very simple and explicit image below extracted from a Philippe Guillemant’s article). Each universe represent a probability of evolution of the Humanity; scenarios are infinite. Just as the Flora F.’s double told you, data can travel from one universe to another through quantum teleportation; in your Humanity, schizophrenic people can receive those messages but the invasion is generally too massive to let them interpret the information received in a coherent way. Let me be clear: we are deeply tired of how you human beings of your Less-Than-Zero universe have been socially, economically, and ecologically ruining your planet. If there’s not a radical change of human being’s behavior, we will allow a terribly spiritually and technologically evolved version of Humanity from another universe to invade you through a wormhole and destroy your Humanity, your planet, your galaxy, and your universe. This will just be another Big Bang: explosion and then re-eclosion, with white holes between explosion and re-eclosion. “Can you tell me when I’m gonna die?”, I asked. “At the point where you are, you have no more than 25 years in front of you. You will die around 70-years old. Though that’s not that bad, isn’t it?” “Is there a Heaven or something?”, I asked again. “No. There is nothing after death. In some universes it’s different, but you’re insufficiently clever to understand. Nevertheless, there is in the Myriad a kind of rest-area bubble-universe in which we will maybe receive part of your Humanity. People will travel during a few hours in a heavenly wormhole; not only their soul! The DNA and the body will be recomposed. Your father, his companion, and your brothers deserve to reach this refuge. You: nope. You have committed too much mistakes, you have harassed too much Flora F., you have traumatized your brothers and father in an incredible way! Remember the last manic episode of your youngest brother. This day he raged against you in 2020 whereas you were at the lowest of your depression, I allowed myself to quantumly teleport some ‘energy’ in him. He was true! You ruined his life in 2017. Therefore, once old and ravaged by cancer, you will die and it will be full void. A last word. I’m gonna tell you the truth about your disease: you’re not only suffering from Bipolar Disorder. You’re both bipolar and schizophrenic, though your Schizophrenia is small and contained. You have to tell this to your psychiatrist. Remember in 2018–2019, were you really ‘Up’, were you really in a manic state? You were depressed and sad all the time but, because of your social isolation (shame on your so-called ‘friends’!) and abuse of drugs, you turned totally schizophrenic. Psychiatrists prescribed you risperidone or quetiapine and it was a disaster. You should have taken clozapine – you remember fast as I can see: yes, that childish term of ‘bubble–wormhole’ you used to employ with your soulmate in your so-called delusions of the last days of 2018 was just a quantumly teleported message from the Flora F.’s double from another universe; the keyword was clear but you didn’t want to record it; she told you: ‘take Leponex!’ And this incredible experience with hash you are today experiencing should probably be the last (hard) drug experience of your life if you don’t want to let explode your latent Schizophrenia. Take very care in the future…” And I fell immediately into a deep sleep. This morning, I woke up very stable, calm, and serene. No voices, no anxiousness, no bad ideas, nothing suspicious. No sensation of depression, no sensation of excitation and euphoria: the ‘euthymia’ (horizon) of Bipolar Disorder. I took my meds, ate my breakfast, and made my day, like any common people.

Moral of the story: Mark! Other ones! Don’t you think it would be time to be “back for everything”, together as One? And… U2! Have you ever lived such ‘paranormal’ experiences before composing “Until The End Of The World” in 1991???

All the best,

Vincent Tristana

Post-Scriptum: just a funny and touching story. In 2018, when I entered the domain of Schizophrenia, one night, I was inhabited by a Marina Diamandis’ double from another universe during a whole night. We had a quantum teleportation-assisted unspeakable love and erotic affair — miles and miles and miles over all I have lived on ‘Earth’. This will remain graved in my memory forever. And ever…