The word cult is a strong word to use to describe, but it’s what it was. I was led to believe that all I had to do was join this group in Italy, where we would make art and share ideas. When I got there, I realized it was me and several other people from around the world who all were a part of marginalized groups. No one was making art, and we had leaders telling us what to do and what to eat. And no one was making art.
Add to this that everyone seemed stoned and occasionally people would disappear into a separate house belonging to the leaders, a white couple with an eccentric billionaire in their pocket. Then, consider that no one could leave the house without a ride from the leaders’ car or a treacherous walk down a steep gravel road. What would you call it?
I will admit that it may not have been an Illuminati Cult, but the eyeballs in the pyramid would suggest otherwise. The only reason I was able to escape was because I made a friend at the train station. I only met him because my plane arrived late, and I didn’t travel with the group. Otherwise, I would have been trapped.
Travel Rule Number One: Especially for queer people and people of color, NEVER LOSE CONTROL OF YOUR ITINERARY.
I’ll never break this rule again.
Transcript:
I mean, it's not the worst thing in the world. It's. It's a cult, but everyone seems nice. Stoned, but nice. With a look in their eyes that looks like they're looking past you. The alarms are ringing, and the red flags have been raised. My inner voice is screaming, GET OUT. So, I called Marco the taxi driver, hoping he could come to save me. In the meantime, I ward off evil spirits and cult leaders with handstands and cartwheels in front of an Illuminati mausoleum, hoping not to become a wax sculpture, or worse, some rich person's transgender token. Luckily, I have a friend in Bologna, but first I take a stop in Falconara Maritima.
A beach town on the Baltic Sea. The train stops right in the sand! The Italians really know how to live. After a moment in the sun, I head north to Imola. These are all the whores, the other bitches. Charlie is really depressed about the storm, and I wish there was more I could do.
At least I escaped the cult. For now…
Watch: My Escape from an Illuminati Cult