Not to be mean here, but the mountain of circumstantial evidence lends credit to the theory somebody wanted me dead and they almost got their wish. The problem is they continue to get away with it, and short of a confession the cops aren’t about to do anything. For all I know the cops were in on it.
Because in addition to poisoning me somebody told the cops I owned firearms so they came to raid my house. I foresaw the entire thing and had already removed them from the premises. You’ve got to stay one step ahead when fighting for your life. The joke was on you.
Somebody buys me a funeral and a grave a week before they poison me, tell the cops to raid the house, try to serve a bogus restraining order, and I’m still dealing with the consequences of your actions 3 years later.
How much can one man take. They just rat packed the fuck out of me until I split town and then continue the ball busting no matter where I land.
This is the only way I know how to fight back. Not even fight back, just defend myself. Because it didn’t end there for me three years ago it was only beginning…
I literally had to sell my soul to find some sort of meaning from it all. When you look at it from an Old Testament perspective it’s not that bad. A lot of people have had it far worse than me, even right now. I have no reason to cry. Can’t undo the past. Water under the bridge. What else do you want from me. It’s exhausting, you gotta move on. I have to keep living. But the kind of wacky nonsense I had to go through to get to this point is unbelievable. You might as well make it into a horror movie.
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