June 23

“A shot gun is an in accurate but brutally effective weapon…”

Charming.

Welcome back!

More bullshit for you, ladies and gentlemen: The man who told me to put my things–most of what I own–in storage for him to take care of, then claimed they were lost, then claimed they were out of his control, is now desperately trying to get me to contact him by telling me he’s going to return this stuff. Would you believe it? I don’t. When, months ago, I was asking him to please, if he ever cared about me at all, return my personal things, my family pictures, gifts, mementos of journeys, he had no interest. But he doesn’t like being ignored, I guess, and this is the last string he thinks he can pull.

I don’t like getting these emails from him, but the legalese is always a hoot. As are his confessions that he now sees his own pathology–followed by a much more detailed discussion of why, really, I’m totally fucked up, too. Like this:

There is no reason for you to belive what I am rrying to tell you
here..but I want to tell you anyhow..For months I have struggled to
understand my nature.  I have sought professional advice and the help
of others and spent weks in contemlation. [He probably talks to you about the time he spends in contemplation. He told me for a year that he was seeking help to understand his “true nature,” a pet phrase.] And as I aproach that understanding I am both horrified and releived. I think I know what I am now.
I apologise for the pain I have caused you. [No he doesn’t. He has actually never apologized for anything. I’ve asked. If I bothered to ask again, he’d apologize vaguely for nothing, then attack me for my failings.]

At first as my awareness grew I wanted to simply end it to kll myself. Then I was overwhelmed
by anger. Finally I have decided to take this understanding of the nature of my madness and use it to do good. To spend the last quater of my life in service. [This is another favorite phrase. He spends no time in service to anyone but himself, I guarantee you.]

Once again there is no reason for you to believe me but there are some
things I want to tell you. Firstly and most importantly I want you to understand that it is
possible for someone like me to experience love and thst I have loved
you more than reason. It was a new experience for me and I handled it
badly. But you cannot claim that what I felt and still do feel for you
was false or trivial.

I also want to tell you that you behaved at times in ways that were
cruel and unreasonable. That I think that like me empathy is difficult
for you and that you have been since I have known you ultimatly
focused on your own needs and desires.
Aw, sweet. I’m not sure what I did to indicate a lack of empathy, other than empathizing the hell out of the series of increasingly absurd problems he claimed to had befallen him. The town conspiring against him, friends getting sick, friends killing themselves, friends betraying him, a government plot…ah, at that point, perhaps, my empathy began to stretch. What a bitch I am, huh?

All I’m asking, folks, is that if you meet this guy, don’t give him anything. Not trust, not money, not affection, not for a minute. It’s not going to be returned. This is not for me, this is not for him — this is for you, whoever you are. This is a warning.

Here he is again.

 

Favourite topics

In February, out of the blue, I got an email from Greg asking if I was pleased with myself for (in some fashion left, sadly, undescribed) destroying a secret action against human trafficking.

This is not true, of course: not true that I magicked it all the hell and not true that it existed in the first place. (And before you think, “well, maybe… ” —  no. It isn’t. This is an example of the kind of lie he makes up to make you feel guilty and stupid and responsible and cowed, because that’s how he wants you to be.)

He wrote:

“one dead .. one in prison ..  i hope you are proud of the consequences
of your actions.. the route for the export of young women to the US
from lao is open and will continue to function .. fantastic …”

As usual, he doesn’t say anything about what I actually did or could have done to disrupt this grand action. Just that the usual culprit, my “fear,” was enough to gum up the works. My fear has ended up being responsible for a lot of notable events over the past two years, according to Greg. Quite a powerful figure, this fear, able to stop bank transfers with a single tendril; able to smash international coalitions with a breath.

I remember, back when I used to believe him, asking how, how, how this had all happened and what I could have had to do with it, given that  I spent most of my time alone in hotel rooms, telling little white lies to people who were concerned about me. He never had a real response. He just made me feel shitty for not “understanding.”

“.. get on your knees and apiloguse to the
families of the young women whose lives you have ruined with your
fears and pathetic insecurities … you have no idea what you have
done .. the only comfort i take from this is that you will never be
truely free ..”

And an insult at the end. Imagine wanting to make someone feel responsible for something like this — someone who, hours or days before and after, you’ll also claim to love.