" Be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is good and acceptable and perfect, will of God." (Romans 12:2)
"A living testimony to God "
"It has taken over a decade of violent storms for me to bow down before God."
This is a 5 part (page) testimony.
Since then I have returned to my past through the method of reminiscing. Investing literally hundreds of hours to seek out the darkest details and to reform the emotions and feelings that overwhelmed and conquered my everyday life. As normal as my appearance may seem, it has only been a costume through the years for a body that was consumed with a passion for rage and hate.
As you are carried aloft into the journey of my life, you are going to experience some of the deepest and darkest secrets of my time.
The Journey Begins
My name is Kipp and I'm 32 years old. What I'm about to reveal to everyone is not just an
occasional binge or some big block party that went all wrong. This is how I lived. This was my everyday lifestyle. I have had so many amazing events in my life that some of you may not even believe me. And as I look back, it's even hard for me to believe. What's even harder for me to believe is the fact that I have survived without a life sentence and the images that are embedded into my mind of escaping death so many times. I can assure you, the statements you'll find here are accurate and true.
I have done so much wrong that it's hard to find a place to start. I have done wrong to so many people that it's hard to decide who to start with. So I started with Jesus Christ. The Lord has forgiven me and I hope that everyone else can also.
I have lived life with very careless and carefree, dangerous and dark ways. My entire life has been a disaster along with an everyday struggle of just pure surviving. Today I share this with the world because I believe that it may help some people that have the exact same issues that I too have accumulated because of this hectic world. I also feel that this could influence someone's choice between Heaven and Hell.
Through all of my years of addiction, depression, pain, and hate - I felt that I had simply been dealt a bad hand in life. I felt that it was meant for me to be an outcast and to struggle every single day. With each defining event taking place in my life, it would only become raw ingredients for my mind to criminally expand and become captured into a prison of Satan's Hell.
For the past three and a half years everyone that knows me called me "Diablo." For those of you that don't know, that's Spanish for "Devil."
Everyday it was like I was a walking, living anti-Christ. I had no respect for God and I had no fear of God. Christians get on their knees to pray. I have gotten on my knees cussing God and screaming to the top of my lungs, "TAKE MY LIFE, LET ME DIE." With four previous attempts of suicide, even death seemed impossible for me. I began feeling as if I was just a body - not a person - but just a body in this world that was cursed with all the complications that life could offer and I felt like nothing good ever happened for me. I always felt like I was the victim and not the villain in each life altering situation.
I began feeling as if there was something wrong with me mentally giving me a disadvantage with a social life. I was unable to keep friendships and I was unable to deal with relationship issues. Most relationships would end abruptly and would end with complete turmoil in which discouraged me from attempting a social life with anyone.
Over the years my personality grew to where I didn't like to socialize with anyone except drug dealers or people involved with that lifestyle. People seemed to irritate me and get on my nerves. I also become nervous around crowds and didn't like being around more than a hand full of people at a time, often finding myself becoming paranoid and looking over my shoulder constantly.
What I did not know then, was the truth about how wrong I was toward God. For the people out there that say they hate God or they don't believe, I feel for you deeply because I have walked the walk. I have lived the life and experienced the prolonged suffering of agony caused by daily defeat.
My life has been filled with so much hate, anger, and rage over the years that it seems I have survived on adrenaline alone. From the total destruction of my marriage, to the hatred of law enforcement, hating my life, hating God, the world and everyone in it, but most of all... I hated me. I did not discriminate. At one time, I hated everyone and everything. At one time during my past, I don't think one single person could have hated people more than myself.
I was the type of person that kicked doors open in the middle of the night because a person owed me a few dollars. I was the type of person who would sport black shoe polish with camouflage clothing and wait in the woods with a gun, spying on enemy homes. Today I carry things upon my conscience that I would not wish upon anyone.
I have plotted and planned to burn a couple of family members homes. I have also had thoughts of shooting family members. At one time I had plans to kill my ex-wife. But the first time....the first time I ever rehearsed killing someone in my mind was around the age of 12 or 13 and the thoughts were directed towards my father.
I have been told before that I have the strongest back of any man alive and I should hold the weight of the entire world upon my shoulders. People have said that I will some day answer to God for my corrupt ways.
Growing up with an alcoholic father blurred my childhood vision. The statement that is so commonly heard today, "The All-American Family," was a mere fairy tail in my eyes. At times the physical and verbal abuse toward me and my mother impacted my life to the point of where I would hide underneath the covers, seemingly every night, just listening for the front door to open, all while shaking with fear. Throughout my childhood my only gateway to freedom was when my mother would open my imagination with statements of hope to enlighten my mind with an oasis of a normal family, assuring me that we were not living in normal circumstances.
Around the age of 15 I stopped hiding and started fighting. After that first fight around two in the morning, there was never anymore physical abuse. That was my very first major lesson in determining the path for my adult life. When the bullies bark, stand up and they will soon tuck tail.
Today I refuse to allow the concept into my mind that these problems affected my adult life. These situations throughout my childhood should have enriched my mind and strengthened me with proven antics of what not to do. But I rebelled and went the other direction in life. Believe me, I did not start using drugs because of my family. I started using because it was fun.
Don't get the wrong idea because my father is a good man. Times were not always terrible. There were good times too. It just seems that for some reason the bad times have always overtaken the good. But today, I place the fault of my twisted life soundly upon myself. Just like anybody else in this world, my father had problems too. We all do. I am not pointing fingers at anyone for my mistakes as an adult. Many people have complimented me about my raising and to each of my parents - I thank you. I have chosen my own paths in life.
It took me a really long time to figure out my problem with the world. It wasn't with the world at all. My problem was with me. I was the problem. It didn't matter how much I tried, I was never able to run from it, because "ME" was everywhere I went. As many enemies as I thought I had in this world, I have always over looked the fiercest enemy of them all... me. I have realized that I am my own worst enemy.
There came a time when I was the biggest drug dealer in two counties. Along with the label came many, many friends (so called) and of course many girls. Then one day I looked around to find absolutely nothing. I have lived and partied with the richest of the rich. I have also felt the pains of hunger and the hollowness of poverty. At a much younger age, I was voted most popular guy in school for three years, but later in life it became almost like a movie.... it was like I was invisible.
Now let me take you back into a couple of near death experiences....
Around 5 or 6 years of age, I was out with my father and brother cutting firewood. I was sitting on the back of the truck when I heard, "RUN Kipp, RUN!" Well I did, right into the path of a falling tree. Make no mistake about it, this wasn't George Washington's cherry tree! I don't remember much more than that, other than someone picking me up out of the limbs and branches. Never-the-less, I escaped with only a few bruises.
Most of you have probably heard that lighting doesn't strike twice in the same place. That's a scientific lie! Around my eighth year my mom or dad sent me to get something from a building behind the shop. We lived on a 10 acre farm and it was raining so I drove the truck and parked at the front of the building. Just as I walked around the back of the shop, lighting struck about 15 or 20 feet from where I was standing, hitting a tree and splitting it in half. Yeah, I know....that could probably happen to about anyone. Except just a few weeks later on a rainy day, I was sent back to the shop, only this time I went inside instead of around back. Upon finishing what I had to do there, as I began to leave, I reached for the door knob and lighting struck the same tree once again. Approximately 15 or 20 feet from me.
I wrecked a dirt bike when I was 13 and probably shouldn't be around to tell about it. I slid under a farm trailer and was pinned between the bike, trailer, and the ground. I was all wadded up underneath the contraption like a pretzel and no one was home. After some time I was able to free myself. Although bruised and sore, nothing was broken. Just for the record, I wasn't wearing a helmet.
In December of '93 my mother and I were involved in a horrible auto accident. I was 16 and of course I was driving. We were struck from behind by a drunk driver that was traveling at an estimated speed of around 120 MPH. It took me a minute to realize what had happened. My first initial thought was that my mother was dead. She lay slumped over towards me, her face was covered in blood and dripping from her chin. Her eyes were wide open, staring through a hole that had been placed in the windshield by her head. She lay there seemingly lifeless. I didn't know it at the time, but she had been knocked out. The drivers door would not open so I knocked the rear glass out with my elbow and climbed from the truck. Many people stopped to help including a nurse. The crash was simply dreadful, totally horrible and appeared to be something from a movie. The truck we were in was totally destroyed. There was not a single piece of metal on the truck that was not bent. Although my mom was seriously injured, I walked away unharmed other than a bruised right hand which came from hitting a fender on the truck, enticed by rage.
"It has taken over a decade of violent storms for me to bow down before God."
This is a 5 part (page) testimony.
Welcome and thank you for taking an interest in my life.
The first time I ever encrypted my history to paper was because a pastor asked me to reveal my life to the world. Upon the completion of that first testimony I found myself in amazement holding 22 handwritten pages. The horrific thing about it - I had not captured the fine print or the emotional suicide that had taken place in my life.Since then I have returned to my past through the method of reminiscing. Investing literally hundreds of hours to seek out the darkest details and to reform the emotions and feelings that overwhelmed and conquered my everyday life. As normal as my appearance may seem, it has only been a costume through the years for a body that was consumed with a passion for rage and hate.
As you are carried aloft into the journey of my life, you are going to experience some of the deepest and darkest secrets of my time.
The Journey Begins
My name is Kipp and I'm 32 years old. What I'm about to reveal to everyone is not just an
occasional binge or some big block party that went all wrong. This is how I lived. This was my everyday lifestyle. I have had so many amazing events in my life that some of you may not even believe me. And as I look back, it's even hard for me to believe. What's even harder for me to believe is the fact that I have survived without a life sentence and the images that are embedded into my mind of escaping death so many times. I can assure you, the statements you'll find here are accurate and true.I have done so much wrong that it's hard to find a place to start. I have done wrong to so many people that it's hard to decide who to start with. So I started with Jesus Christ. The Lord has forgiven me and I hope that everyone else can also.
I have lived life with very careless and carefree, dangerous and dark ways. My entire life has been a disaster along with an everyday struggle of just pure surviving. Today I share this with the world because I believe that it may help some people that have the exact same issues that I too have accumulated because of this hectic world. I also feel that this could influence someone's choice between Heaven and Hell.
Through all of my years of addiction, depression, pain, and hate - I felt that I had simply been dealt a bad hand in life. I felt that it was meant for me to be an outcast and to struggle every single day. With each defining event taking place in my life, it would only become raw ingredients for my mind to criminally expand and become captured into a prison of Satan's Hell.
For the past three and a half years everyone that knows me called me "Diablo." For those of you that don't know, that's Spanish for "Devil."
I was on a one way trip to Hell, but it didn't much matter to me then, because I felt the same as so many others do today. I felt as if life was Hell and it couldn't get much worse. I felt as if God 
hated me, so I hated Him, eventually saying that I didn't even believe in God. I would tell people, proudly, that I was going to Hell. I have cussed God so many times just like cussing anyone else in this world, even cussing the Mother of Jesus Christ. I have told people that God had never helped me, that I hated God, and that God was not real. I have commented that the Bible was fake and it was written by someone just like any other book... to sell for a profit. I have even made a suggestion or two that I was Satan's helper and I had taken it upon myself to reek havoc upon the people who crossed me with corrupt intentions.
hated me, so I hated Him, eventually saying that I didn't even believe in God. I would tell people, proudly, that I was going to Hell. I have cussed God so many times just like cussing anyone else in this world, even cussing the Mother of Jesus Christ. I have told people that God had never helped me, that I hated God, and that God was not real. I have commented that the Bible was fake and it was written by someone just like any other book... to sell for a profit. I have even made a suggestion or two that I was Satan's helper and I had taken it upon myself to reek havoc upon the people who crossed me with corrupt intentions.Everyday it was like I was a walking, living anti-Christ. I had no respect for God and I had no fear of God. Christians get on their knees to pray. I have gotten on my knees cussing God and screaming to the top of my lungs, "TAKE MY LIFE, LET ME DIE." With four previous attempts of suicide, even death seemed impossible for me. I began feeling as if I was just a body - not a person - but just a body in this world that was cursed with all the complications that life could offer and I felt like nothing good ever happened for me. I always felt like I was the victim and not the villain in each life altering situation.
I began feeling as if there was something wrong with me mentally giving me a disadvantage with a social life. I was unable to keep friendships and I was unable to deal with relationship issues. Most relationships would end abruptly and would end with complete turmoil in which discouraged me from attempting a social life with anyone.
Over the years my personality grew to where I didn't like to socialize with anyone except drug dealers or people involved with that lifestyle. People seemed to irritate me and get on my nerves. I also become nervous around crowds and didn't like being around more than a hand full of people at a time, often finding myself becoming paranoid and looking over my shoulder constantly.
What I did not know then, was the truth about how wrong I was toward God. For the people out there that say they hate God or they don't believe, I feel for you deeply because I have walked the walk. I have lived the life and experienced the prolonged suffering of agony caused by daily defeat.
My life has been filled with so much hate, anger, and rage over the years that it seems I have survived on adrenaline alone. From the total destruction of my marriage, to the hatred of law enforcement, hating my life, hating God, the world and everyone in it, but most of all... I hated me. I did not discriminate. At one time, I hated everyone and everything. At one time during my past, I don't think one single person could have hated people more than myself.
Most people of this world - no matter what problems have been encountered, or how bad their life seems to be - I have found that most people still love and respect their mother. For me, even the love for my mother become deleted from my heart and mind. I have found myself on more than one occasion cussing my mother and using profanity in any way possible to do verbal destruction to our relationship.
I was the type of person that kicked doors open in the middle of the night because a person owed me a few dollars. I was the type of person who would sport black shoe polish with camouflage clothing and wait in the woods with a gun, spying on enemy homes. Today I carry things upon my conscience that I would not wish upon anyone.I have plotted and planned to burn a couple of family members homes. I have also had thoughts of shooting family members. At one time I had plans to kill my ex-wife. But the first time....the first time I ever rehearsed killing someone in my mind was around the age of 12 or 13 and the thoughts were directed towards my father.
I have been told before that I have the strongest back of any man alive and I should hold the weight of the entire world upon my shoulders. People have said that I will some day answer to God for my corrupt ways.
Growing up with an alcoholic father blurred my childhood vision. The statement that is so commonly heard today, "The All-American Family," was a mere fairy tail in my eyes. At times the physical and verbal abuse toward me and my mother impacted my life to the point of where I would hide underneath the covers, seemingly every night, just listening for the front door to open, all while shaking with fear. Throughout my childhood my only gateway to freedom was when my mother would open my imagination with statements of hope to enlighten my mind with an oasis of a normal family, assuring me that we were not living in normal circumstances.
Around the age of 15 I stopped hiding and started fighting. After that first fight around two in the morning, there was never anymore physical abuse. That was my very first major lesson in determining the path for my adult life. When the bullies bark, stand up and they will soon tuck tail.
Today I refuse to allow the concept into my mind that these problems affected my adult life. These situations throughout my childhood should have enriched my mind and strengthened me with proven antics of what not to do. But I rebelled and went the other direction in life. Believe me, I did not start using drugs because of my family. I started using because it was fun.
Don't get the wrong idea because my father is a good man. Times were not always terrible. There were good times too. It just seems that for some reason the bad times have always overtaken the good. But today, I place the fault of my twisted life soundly upon myself. Just like anybody else in this world, my father had problems too. We all do. I am not pointing fingers at anyone for my mistakes as an adult. Many people have complimented me about my raising and to each of my parents - I thank you. I have chosen my own paths in life.
It took me a really long time to figure out my problem with the world. It wasn't with the world at all. My problem was with me. I was the problem. It didn't matter how much I tried, I was never able to run from it, because "ME" was everywhere I went. As many enemies as I thought I had in this world, I have always over looked the fiercest enemy of them all... me. I have realized that I am my own worst enemy.
There came a time when I was the biggest drug dealer in two counties. Along with the label came many, many friends (so called) and of course many girls. Then one day I looked around to find absolutely nothing. I have lived and partied with the richest of the rich. I have also felt the pains of hunger and the hollowness of poverty. At a much younger age, I was voted most popular guy in school for three years, but later in life it became almost like a movie.... it was like I was invisible.
Around 5 or 6 years of age, I was out with my father and brother cutting firewood. I was sitting on the back of the truck when I heard, "RUN Kipp, RUN!" Well I did, right into the path of a falling tree. Make no mistake about it, this wasn't George Washington's cherry tree! I don't remember much more than that, other than someone picking me up out of the limbs and branches. Never-the-less, I escaped with only a few bruises.
Most of you have probably heard that lighting doesn't strike twice in the same place. That's a scientific lie! Around my eighth year my mom or dad sent me to get something from a building behind the shop. We lived on a 10 acre farm and it was raining so I drove the truck and parked at the front of the building. Just as I walked around the back of the shop, lighting struck about 15 or 20 feet from where I was standing, hitting a tree and splitting it in half. Yeah, I know....that could probably happen to about anyone. Except just a few weeks later on a rainy day, I was sent back to the shop, only this time I went inside instead of around back. Upon finishing what I had to do there, as I began to leave, I reached for the door knob and lighting struck the same tree once again. Approximately 15 or 20 feet from me.
I wrecked a dirt bike when I was 13 and probably shouldn't be around to tell about it. I slid under a farm trailer and was pinned between the bike, trailer, and the ground. I was all wadded up underneath the contraption like a pretzel and no one was home. After some time I was able to free myself. Although bruised and sore, nothing was broken. Just for the record, I wasn't wearing a helmet.
In December of '93 my mother and I were involved in a horrible auto accident. I was 16 and of course I was driving. We were struck from behind by a drunk driver that was traveling at an estimated speed of around 120 MPH. It took me a minute to realize what had happened. My first initial thought was that my mother was dead. She lay slumped over towards me, her face was covered in blood and dripping from her chin. Her eyes were wide open, staring through a hole that had been placed in the windshield by her head. She lay there seemingly lifeless. I didn't know it at the time, but she had been knocked out. The drivers door would not open so I knocked the rear glass out with my elbow and climbed from the truck. Many people stopped to help including a nurse. The crash was simply dreadful, totally horrible and appeared to be something from a movie. The truck we were in was totally destroyed. There was not a single piece of metal on the truck that was not bent. Although my mom was seriously injured, I walked away unharmed other than a bruised right hand which came from hitting a fender on the truck, enticed by rage.
