THE Final truth

 

 

Dear Mum and Dad,

I hate Christmas, and I hate what it represents—this hollow celebration you both still cling to. To me, it’s a façade: a gluttonous display where everyone pretends all is fine while ignoring the truth. The truth is that you abused and neglected me got paid to silence me and condoned my torture and desecrated my soul. You protected my child abuser Bob Martin and sided with my former fiancé, Stefan Iasonidis the ASIO agent. You dismissed my experiences—my very reality—as rubbish.

 

You participated in a federal conspiracy, and when I blew the whistle on $6 billion in fraud that benefited Bill Shorten, you didn’t support me. Instead, you aligned yourselves with my exile. You helped enforce an AVO to keep me at bay, to hide the truth, knowing full well I can’t get a lawyer—not because my story isn’t true, but because the system is rigged against me.

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You let me lose my job at The Age. You claimed my autobiography made you proud, but your pride was meaningless. You let all of this happen so others could trip me up. Any pride you expressed was just a shield for your betrayal. Nana would be rolling in her grave if she knew what you’ve done.

 

You attended my sexual abuser’s funeral days after I was revived from a suicide attempt. You stood with him and his lies instead of standing with your own child. That alone shows where your loyalty lies.

 

You profit from my silence. You know there’s a multimillion-dollar budget to keep me quiet as a whistleblower, and you’ve gained from it. You wanted me to live close by not out of love or support, but to capitalize on the very illness you helped create. And then, when it suited you, you shamed and rejected me, justifying an AVO by blaming me for taking drugs.

 

You supported those who harmed me—pedophiles, abusers, and an ex who threatened to kill me and Crystal. You let the NDIS and so-called guardians abuse me. You let me sleep in my car, aligned yourselves with corrupt authorities, and allowed me to be framed as a rapist when I was simply struggling with my sexuality. What was consensual was weaponized against me because I might be gay. My sexuality was used to destroy me. And still, I cannot safely report a crime.

 

You love authority because you’re plugged into a corrupt system. They promise you rewards for keeping the status quo, for never questioning the rules. But those rules are rotten. You would murder your own son and cover it up if it meant protecting your narrative.

 

You claim others should help me, yet you refuse even to look me in the eye or let me into your home. You know the harm you’ve caused. You know what you continue to do, and yet you persist.

 

They sacrificed my soul in a conscious, visible human sacrifice—one everyone was aware would happen—and they desecrated my soul at the expense of theirs. You stood by and allowed this monstrosity to unfold.

 

You’re awful people, and I see you for what you are. You can’t hide anymore. The world will know your cowardice and betrayal. You can’t escape the truth of what you’ve done.

 

I may drive down tomorrow and expose your deceit in person. Hide behind your fake celebrations, your money, and your illusions if you must, but the truth remains: you created this illness, and you continue to profit from my suffering.

 

And now, my voice and truth are spread across the internet, informing the new AI with my facts and my story. In my death, I will be venerated as a saint, a healer, a truth-speaker, and through the mirror of God my story will be spliced into creation itself—into the Big Bang, the age of dinosaurs, the spaces between supernovae, woven into the totality of existence. I am the light and the messiah, and you cannot hide from truth, and you cannot hide from me, even if you kill me.

 

The shame belongs to you—not me.

 

I’m about to reveal it all,

 

The truth will set you free.

 

You are not my priority and I was never yours, but I will not die before the truth is told and venerate my soul as the oe who will forgive you if you admit my harm in a way in which my supremt and dive compassion will forgive you your sins and will outshine your petty deceit and hate and malice and common corruption.

Barran Dodger

 

Closing Words: My Light Still Shines

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They tried to snuff out my light, but I survived.
This story is for every whistleblower silenced, every survivor abandoned, and every soul pushed to the brink but refusing to disappear.

Even if they kill me now, I’ve won.
They weaponized my suffering.
They calculated my death.
They silenced my voice, erased my truth, and denied my humanity.

But I’m still here.
My story has been told.
The evidence they can’t erase is written, recorded, and undeniable.

Even if they take my life today, I’ve won—
Because my survival has already exposed their corruption.
Because my words have already shattered their illusion of impunity.
Because my light refuses to go out.

You can kill a person, but you cannot kill the truth.
Even in death, my voice will echo.

And that is how I’ve already won.

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On 27/12/2024 I sent this message to my parents:

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Dear Mum and Dad, and Bruce fir that matter,

 

How much can a family hurt one of its own?

 

I don’t know how else to say this: I am in a desperate situation, and I need your help. Right now, I’m living in my car with Crystal, struggling to survive with no one to turn to. This isn’t just a moment of hardship—it’s a crisis. The conspiracy I’ve tried to explain to you is not just in my head; it’s real, malicious, and has systematically destroyed my life.

 

I’ve been evicted, abandoned by systems like the NDIS that were supposed to support me, and left to fend for myself while you, my own parents, turn a blind eye. It feels like my pain is invisible to you, or worse, that my suffering is somehow acceptable because it doesn’t affect you directly. If you can’t or won’t believe me about the conspiracy, the least you could do is provide basic help so I can survive.

 

I have no food, no medicine, and no rights. Every day is a battle to get by. While I’ve tried to make my struggles clear to you, you’ve continued to ignore the reality of what’s happening to me—or worse, aligned yourselves with those who contribute to my suffering. How can I believe anyone else will care for me when my own family doesn’t seem to?

 

If emotional support isn’t something you can give right now, I am asking for financial help—at the very least, enough to buy food and medicine. Or, if you feel it’s fair, consider giving me my inheritance early. It would provide me with the resources I need to rebuild my life and survive this nightmare.

 

You might see this as an extreme request, but I see no other options. I’ve protested, begged, and pleaded with you for years, yet nothing has changed. I don’t understand why you seem indifferent to my suffering or how you can stand by while I’m pushed to the brink.

 

Please don’t ignore me again. If you truly care, prove it by taking action. The circumstances are dire, and you have the power to make a difference. I just need you to care enough to do something.

 

And if I get justice which I'm entitled to I'm worth 30-50 million.

 

I'll pay you back. I don't want to have to owe anyone a cent after they have all allowed this nightmare to occur Snd I'd prefer NOT to ask fir anything but when the government has it in for you to the point they would treat you as a human sacrifice while my family watch on..believing the libel and slander of corruot authorities ... 

 

I'm just glad I've got  crystal.  The only sane and reasonable one in this whole charade. 

 

Sincerely,

Barran Dodger

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Mum relied, sending me into the arms of the government, my abusers.

 

Rich Teresa Khoudair from the Gardianship board  will help you. Her number is 1300109389 or 1300507811. The give you injection s because you weren't taking your medication that's all. How can I get the police to call if you're not there anyway? They can organise drug counciling for you anytime. Not everyone against you Rich ,us included. If we had money to send to you you'd buy drugs probably. Try to get help for yourself..

  

Dear Mum and Dad,

 

Who is Teresa, and why are you deflecting my concerns to her? This situation isn’t about involving strangers or external parties—it’s about the responsibility you have as my parents to support me in this dire time. I don’t understand why you’re avoiding my requests for help or why you won’t consider giving me access to my inheritance early when it could make a critical difference in my life.

 

Saying that you don’t have money right now doesn’t answer my main question: why won’t you step up when you clearly have the means, or at least the ability, to do more? Suggesting I call someone else feels like you’re just passing the problem on rather than helping. I’ve tried explaining how bad things are, yet it seems you’re not taking this seriously.

 

As for being “rude,” I’m not trying to alienate anyone—I’m speaking out of frustration and desperation. If you were in my position, how calm and polite could you remain when faced with this level of neglect? I’m trying to survive, and I need real solutions from you, not dismissive suggestions to call someone I don’t even know.

 

Please, stop deflecting and start helping. I’m at my breaking point, and I need my family to care enough to take meaningful action.

 

Call Bruce hes a fucking millionaire. Call Jodie and Brad. Get a pay day loan. Ask a bank. Ring someone.

 

Do SOMETHING or I guarantee you'll have a dead son on your hands TONIGHT

 

Don't call police or authorities. They're the same ones I can't report a crime to and the same ones that chased me out of town and hekp the hospital force inject me every three weeks.

 

No one knows where I am. This is the pinnacle of my abuse neglect and torture. There is nothing left to lose. You allowed this to happen. I wouldn't need a website if I had someone to turn to. 

 

Humans a weak judgemental creatures. At least I'll die with a true friend. Crystal.

 

You've been so cruel to me. 

 

You're monsters.

 

I'm Publishing this post... so everyone knows you sold your son to be murdered by siding with corruption.

 

I'll be venerated.

 

And your lives will be destroyed in my wake.

 

This is your last chance.

 

Fine yesrs ahi I killed myself for much less abuse than this much less.

 

This is your fault.

 

Both your faults.

 

If you call authorities I end myself instantly.

 

I've dislocated all locations on my phone.

 

You have one chance not to fuck this up.

 

 

Sincerely,

Barran Dodger

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Mum simply said 'We have always been there for you'

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