I was talking to a friend earlier today and it brought up some memories. This trip has never been a game, but truth be told it’s been more dangerous to my livelihood than I’d ever bargained for.
When Isaac Kappy “died” I’d written a blog placing blame on one Tom Hanks. I don’t want to retraumatize myself, and the man is long dead-but he threatened my life. I spent two years looking over my shoulder, and it wasn’t until I’d learned that Isaac was very much alive and Hanx very much dead that I took a breath.
I wrote a blog about Somerset Belanoff and my computer exploded. The sound scared me so violently that I’d almost passed out. Yig Wilson did two videos on my interactions with Katrina Belanoff. Little had I known, at the time, that she owned the Cannibal club and was guilty of absolutely horrific crimes against humanity.
I pissed Montagraph off so badly that he did told me he was in a phone booth in front of my house. Because I live in the middle of nowhere I knew he wasn’t, but it didn’t stop me from near pissing my pants.
William Murtaugh threatened to sue me.
I’ve had to learn the hard way to stay anonymous, not so much for myself but for the safety of my family.
It’s been an honor, truly it has. I’m not complaining.
What a long, strange trip it’s been.