Behind my Mask, Your Reflection

By agreeing to move to Hamburg, I was betting on marital stability, hoping that this change of scenery would be enough to calm our tensions and offer me a new field of conquest.

Seeing no future prospects emerging in Germany, I chose to awaken my "gold mine": the casino system. I returned to Paris where my friend Christian became my partner and, for the holidays, opened the doors of his home in Palma de Mallorca to me. My life then took on a binary rhythm. By day, I burned my energy under the sun water-skiing; by night, I regained my discipline as an operator around the cylinder. I traded the isolation of exile for the excitement of Mallorca, taking advantage of this summer to rebuild my finances and my morale. The next day, we took to the sea, accompanying his son to Ibiza on a glassy surface. Three passengers, three hours of crossing, a feeling of absolute joie de vivre. It was there that Christian suggested I bring my son and his mother.

On the return the following day, Christian and I almost lost our lives at sea in a terrifying night storm. It was the first time I had seen death so closely.

Back at the villa, I hurried the next morning to call my wife in Hamburg with the pleasure of announcing this good news. Her reception on the phone was marked by a total lack of empathy. I told her I was sending two tickets so she could join us under the Palma sun. She replied that she was not interested in these holidays and that she preferred to divorce. I could have expected anything, but never that answer.

The next day, I flew to Germany, my heart heavy with an apprehension I could no longer ignore. I went to the address indicated by Ulrike, in the heart of a neighborhood whose decay immediately alerted me. On the landing, three individuals suddenly appeared behind me. A brief glimmer of hope crossed my mind as I recognized two familiar faces, men I had already crossed paths with in Ulrike’s entourage; I naively believed they could serve as mediators. This illusion died brutally when a pistol was aimed at my chest, held by the third man with a gaze of stone.

Forced into the apartment, I was struck by a nightmare vision that made me doubt my own state of consciousness. Ulrike was there, standing in the middle of the room. She was no longer the young girl from the Black Forest, but a brutal apparition, dressed in a provocative and suggestive outfit, modeled after those silhouettes I had once crossed with adolescent curiosity in the red-light district of “Les Halles”.

After being beaten, the oldest of them ordered me to leave Hamburg within the hour, or risk being found with my throat slit on a highway. Refusing defeat, I stayed the night in Hamburg and dodged a first attack while leaving the French consulate.

In the evening, leaving a small restaurant in a side street, two hooded men emerged: it was no longer intimidation, but an execution contract. In an absolute reflex of survival, I struck back with a violence dictated by despair, leaving my attackers inert on the pavement before rushing onto the night train for Paris.

I hired a private detective. A few weeks later, while passing through Baden, the hope of seeing my son again was reborn: he had located the mother. The battle to save my child began. The detective indicated a little later that she was ready to back down and leave Hamburg as quickly as possible, fearing for her life. He was on the verge of arranging an interview, and I headed toward Hamburg. We all three returned to Paris, my boy finally held in my arms, to settle in Neuilly-sur-Seine.

Two months later, one evening upon my return, the apartment was empty, my son’s belongings gone. My intuition led me the next day to the bank: the account had been emptied the day before. I had paid a high price for wanting to believe in redemption. Two days after her flight, the evidence became clear: a certified letter informed me of a check rejected for insufficient funds. When I went to settle the incident, the airline confirmed that the tickets were for a one-way trip to Hamburg. She had planned everything. I was not just betrayed; I was now facing the reality of a new kidnapping. I never saw my two-and-a-half-year-old son again!

French perfumes being overpriced in Africa, I had the project of setting up a packaging unit in France to export countertypes, a perfectly legal business. We left for Abidjan where Cathy, my sales agent, who had an extensive address book, introduced me to many personalities interested in the project. I met an immensely wealthy Lebanese man established across much of West Africa. I reacted promptly by sending a sample to his brother-in-law in France. The quality of the fragrance was a revelation for his contact, who was immediately thrilled by the product. One thing led to another, and I found myself producing a counterfeit. I accepted after consulting a lawyer, who assured me there was no criminal risk. Following a tip-off from an employee, the police arrived. My Lebanese client, who was in France at the same time, was brought before the prosecutor with me. Unable to determine whether he was aware of the transaction or not, we were incarcerated for three weeks.

My friend Christian, after the storm at sea that nearly cost us our lives, suggested setting up a perfume business with his collaboration. In September, he was killed in a hunting accident. On the boat, his hour had not been mine, granting him only a brief reprieve in life.

I was forced to start from scratch by partnering with a man owning large operating areas, who neglected to tell me he was facing eviction from his premises. I saved him at the last moment, and after getting the business back on track, he betrayed me a few months later. Stopped by the Border Police upon returning from a trip, I was notified of a default conviction to ten months in prison, directly related to the loan I had signed ten years earlier to help "Jacques," the film producer. He warned me to pay close attention to the next summons to court. Wishing to clean up the mistakes of my youth, I contacted the bank and liquidated the debt immediately. I contacted the public prosecutor's office to clarify the situation. The prosecutor warned me not to miss the upcoming summons!

Returning from Arabia after a violent storm in France, I was caught in a fire at my home during the night where I nearly burned to death. All my mail was scattered in the garden, shredded by the storm during my absence. I set up a new structure with trusted friends. Having a massive contract in hand with Arabia, I decided to go to Switzerland by night train to meet a partner and friend to finalize the contract. I was arrested by customs at the border, convicted by iterative default. The mail had been destroyed during the storm, so I could not appear at the hearing. What a relentless stroke of fate! Convicted by default even though I had fully settled the debt! This tragic event closed the nightmarish nine-year period indicated in the Yi-Jin, which I discovered much later. This infernal period did not prevent me from later becoming a brilliant businessman.

One of my friends accompanied me to Baden-Baden; he had the stroke of genius to transform the system I was using and computerize it into a microcomputer, decupling our winnings. We both bought a beauty salon near the Champs-Élysées where I met an aesthetic equipment manufacturer named "Leon." My friend recruited the staff and fell in love with the beautician, who turned toward me. Out of rage and jealousy, our friendship ended abruptly, but I also lost access to that fabulous machine.

I decided to organize a group crossing to Africa by car from Paris to Bamako, taking the beautician and four other people with me. Upon our return, despite this extraordinary journey, our relationship ended.

In the context of an incredible and wonderful synchronicity, events began to lock into one another. I met a young woman on Minitel who was looking for a manufacturer to completely remodel the cosmetic product line she owned. Quickly cornered by her debts and unable to meet her commitments, I accepted the transfer of her brand in exchange for the cancellation of her debt. The synchronicity was only beginning! Walking through the crowded aisles at the International Esthetics Fair in Bordeaux, someone I had stopped thinking about grabbed my arm. It was "Leon," who quickly became the buyer and successor of the brand. Among thousands of visitors, how was it possible, or even imaginable, that we crossed paths at that exact moment, a moment that would change my life? What a coincidence!

Léon introduced me to his expert and advisor, who later became my wife. No longer able to finance his project, I took back the brand a second time. We decided to operate it with my Swiss partner through French hypermarkets according to a new concept I created. Our immense success disturbed the industry giants, and we found ourselves out after a few months with 1.2 million euros invested in an advertising campaign.

We decided to tackle exports immediately and experienced immense success in Asia, traveling across the five continents in every direction for ten years. Tired of evolving within the Western paradigm, I decided to expatriate to Malaysia. Over eight years, I discovered the presence of my spiritual guides, communicating little by little with me through daily paranormal phenomena in our villa. Increasingly clear and understandable messages reached me in the form of images, which I then had to decipher and understand. These contacts became more and more precise, eventually leading to visual and physical contact, transmitting an education throughout those years that I then strove to pass on in turn.

At the head of a factory in Malaysia that I had created during those years, I was forced to stop due to the growth of China. My married life, within an uncontrollable sociopathy during the last year, became a living hell. The loss of my mother dragged me to the very bottom of the abyss, where I decided to end it all by throwing myself into a raging sea. Like a torpedo, I was brought back to shore, and I still wonder today how I managed it... Back in France, my relationship hit a wall and we divorced. I returned to China to build a new life and a new factory where my new wife gave birth to a little girl. I helped my son become our importer before he cowardly left me after six years of collaboration. I stopped all my activities to devote myself to my passion, attaching myself once again to spirituality, studying the Yi-Jin in depth for years, a science that dominated the life of Carl Gustav Jung, with whom I shared the same conclusions! The Yi-Jin revealed to me that all the events I lived through were recorded in detail, particularly that terrifying period between the ages of 16 and 25, according to energy cycles oscillating from bottom to top.

Considering the extraordinary synchronicity of certain consecutive events in an extraordinary journey, it was impossible for me to let them pass in silence, and I wished to share them.