The Party

Alle Versuche, diese Kirche nachzuforschen, sind wissentlich und absichtlich vom deutschen Staat seit 2018 abgelehnt worden, und dafür übernehme ich nicht die Verantwortung. In der Gesinnung ist mir geblieben, daß ich in Deutschland die Ursprünge der Deutschen Kirche recherchieren wollte, aber nie dazu kam. Zurzeit befinde ich mich in England, wo ich mein Gedächtnis weitgehend verloren habe, nachdem meine Mutter starb. Ich habe in England nichts erreicht und habe glatt vergessen, welches Schicksal mich hierhergebracht hat. Leider war meine Mutter in den letzten Jahren ihres Lebens aus Gesundheitsproblemen nicht mehr in der Lage, England zu verlassen und in ihre Heimat zurückzukehren, und aus Liebe zu ihr habe ich sie jeden Tag versorgt. Als sie mich hinterließ, stellte sich die Frage, wie ich mich von einem Land verabschiede, dem ich nichts gegeben und von dem ich nie etwas bekommen habe. Dann fiel mir ein, daß diese Arbeit vor mir steht, in der es darum geht, zu forschen, wie d...

The one that never happened. An Unexplained Departure Following the almost complete loss of my memory after the 28th September 2025, and not having a clue how I got to England from Italy or why, all that remains certain is that my sister Angela at some point went very quickly to Mexico. My assumption is, she refused to surrender, but whether she achieved anything in England before leaving is unknown to me – apart from not surrendering. My recollection of Serbia reminds me that when some people took their given word back and demanded we hand over money instead, she refused to go to Belgrade and instead got off the train in Valjevo and returned to a Serbian church where sestra studied with Srpska Majka and the Serbian Child. In the 27th December 2025 offer to Italy, Angela’s brother mentioned her , and they ignored him again. There was nothing any more he could do about it. The whole essence of the mid- 2025 revelation my sister had shared is based upon what preceded it when...

Unable to take responsibility for the cancellation of the Italian Church, I have firmly placed the onus on Italy to respond lest my memory worsens even more. It’s their duty to reply to me. An Impression to Remember Angela’s brother Hun has printed a script in Italian that, in compact form, explains his last memories in Italy and incapability to recall arriving in England. Compiling letters and sending them to Italian Government addresses both central and local, he’s been gradually fine-tuning to a crescendo. R eached around yesterday, i t’s designed to leave an impression on those who encounter it, something they won’t just forget the next day . My sister spoke fluent Italian and had a key. Having established contact with whom she described as the Italian spiritual Mother, she had set about discovering the foundations of the Italian Church. This was in a house in Italy. Following several attempts at contacting offices to present the introductory work that were all ignored, ...

The affair being of public interest to Italy, the Hun is keeping a list of all addresses and copies of all letters sent to them. The Source of a National Church While the British were asleep, the Hun has been preparing various-calibre scripts in Italian and choosing different recipients, the objective being to obtain a funded work contract to operate anonymously in Italy and undetected at Angela’s orders. At least initially she’ll be remaining in Mexico and directing the operations, although whether she will also at some point move there, is unknown, to me anyway. Being homeless in England and without an income for at least seven years, unable to remember how I got here, and, in absence of a contract in my belongings, not being able to demonstrate any kind of work carried out here, I do recall however having once been about to present some written papers in public with Angela on the foundations of the Italian Ecclesial Body. Now my memory is coming back, but only up to a point...

Time is of the essence, and while the British are on holiday and their offices are closed, the Hun has not been complacent. No-One Knew Me Today I’ve prepared another script as a follow-up to the previous one titled The Letter in Italian with the emphasis on my situation and on the work being proposed to Italy. I’m holding out besieged in England and have no memory of what happened before the end of the year 2018 and how I got here . Over the past seven years there was only five pounds in my bank account, and the British authorities stated they don’t know anything about me and only came across my presence in October 2025 in the transit room where they served a note to quit, after which my residence became a tent. My memory following the end of 2018 is vague and disconnected and is more vivid when the tent became my house – I think somewhere in early November ’25. Party prints are helping me out as a diary, they join some dots, but what I do remember very clearly is that ...

Thirty silver pounds can go a long way: they managed to cancel all recollection of what I did in England and why I’m here. Must have backfired! The Letter One very last attempt has been made by Angela’s brother at contacting Italy. The text, written in my Sunday best Italian, bears sole reference to the Italian Church starting with its origins which my sister in Mexico with the help of myself wishes to research. For now there is no indication of previous work in Italy but that can wait. The presentation continues with its author living in a tent in England with no income of any kind for the past seven years and just some limited money to live off from his own pocket. In the letter it’s absent how I got to England and what I’m doing here nor is there mention of any memory ever having done anything in this country. It would appear my past was whitewashed and consequently my mental records have been swiped with the exception of having lived in Italy at some time in the past and r...