This wasn’t supposed to be a cult.
It started on Threads.
Just me. Just rage. Just a voice whispering into the static.
I wasn’t trying to build anything. I was trying not to drown.
Every post was a lifeline thrown into a sea of denial, and people started grabbing on.
Not followers. Not fans. Survivors. Ghosts. Heretics. You.
The name wasn’t a lie. It was a confession.
Deceit is the language they taught us to survive.
We learned to smile while bleeding. To say we were fine. To bow to leaders who never deserved reverence.
But eventually, the mask slips.
Eventually, the lie gets tired.
Eventually, someone says it out loud and doesn’t flinch.
So I did.
I started calling things what they are.
Grooming culture. Propaganda. American rot wrapped in Christian branding.
And what happened next wasn’t a brand. It was a ritual.
You all started showing up.
Telling me what kept you up. What you couldn’t forget. What you couldn’t forgive.
And I realized I wasn’t alone.
None of us were.
This is Cult of Deceit.
Not a church. Not a fan club. Not a political party.
This is a reckoning. A remembering. A digital altar for truth too sharp to swallow politely.
If you’re here, maybe you’re still hurting.
Maybe you’re furious.
Maybe you’re done pretending it’s not all connected.
Whatever brought you, you’re seen.
You’re not too much. You’re not too late. You’re not imagining it.
And you’re not alone anymore.