I am doing well in school but have no outlet for some things and if it’s okay with you I’m going to try to explain some things that put me in the situation I am, hoping maybe you can help me figure out what to do about my small future, little though it amounts to anything, and fraught as it is now that I have diabetes in addition to everything else. I was just a child, it was like being shot, they attacked me blindside, suddenly, I had never seen them before. They drenched, absolutely drenched a rag in paint thinner or industrial solvent of some sort, they had me in a stolen car, I think it was called Flo Glo and put it over my mouth. Naturally I passed out. I became very deaf permanently. We sold our house and moved when I began refusing to go to school, hiding in the top shelf of our towel closet at home, unable to tell anyone things I couldn't comprehend. I was just a child. My family were intensely abusive at best. It was a nightmare. I have pictures of me somewhere or other after we moved which just looks like some grinning E.T. from a swamp planet.
In high school, after barely graduating (despite a summer at Governor's School for my Poetry) I hitchhiked to St. Louis to hear a guitarist in media play. I wasn’t completely deaf, but it was a terribly long way from Pittsburgh and he turned out to be truly evil, psychotic and controlling and behind the original attacks. I had been targeted. Maybe I should have known, but I was only semi-conscious still, I never really recovered, the gang who held me were playing him all the time, it got to be like a reason for intellectual development when I wasn't allowed to go to school. They were engaged in a sort of worship. He is in the right wing, a friend of Bush, and my father, who was on Bush’s ship, was a humanist which meant to them against the church. Fripp’s band was named King Crimson to signify the devil and as the child of a humanist they took me hostage for a human sacrifice in an anti-abortion war game involving the AIDS attack. He thinks he is a great hero of holy war. Most of his victims hail Mary about him because his poison center is in the circle of the Beatles. I've had some cross words with every friend I have because nobody judges them and gets away with it.
Fripp secured the blessings of my school and Sound Mental Health in trivializing what was done to me, embarking on a rampage and changing the narrative. They have stalked me demanding that I say that the men who tortured me were my friends and that I should forgive them in return for church sanctuary. I was homeless for years, suffering seizures, for refusing Michael Brod, formerly of Union Gospel Mission did not agree with their ultimatum and said I should stay safe in Seattle. I only went back to Pittsburgh to finish school because Seattle Central banned me and it seems the best way to protect myself what little I can.
These murderers attacked and raped the deaf girl who gave me sign language skills and do not want the true narrative to be allowed as fact of my personal history. They advertised the plan to punishment rape her in a campus bulletin. They control media, like the New York Times, whose writer Cameron Brown came into the campus newsroom where I was writing and before one of our editions went to press to scribbled devil and pigs heads all over the page around my letter. It’s a terribly sad story, but it is in library archives and I can back this up with the material evidence from Carnegie Mellon. I was homeless for years because of that monster from King Crimson. He brutally, brutally tortured me again for trying to get help from truly deranged, Manson-like child molesters, and incited them saying he has a bounty on me for betraying them. They case me through Facebook and stuff. Cameron Brown and Lewis Lapham, working with Bush and Fripp seemed to think that it was a laugh that one of the women who used me in bondage became truly obese and that they could blackmail me with photographs of her saying she had seduced me for a script they took by force, and that I was just a runaway who tried to betray my true friends. She is their mysterious ideological trump, a sex card in the pornography deck. Warhol Museum is in Pittsburgh and they all knew about the script long before I did. My linguistic anthropology teacher thinks what they did is alarming and terrible.
Hope you can understand, I’m destroyed, but doing well in school