On the long-term side effects of crystal meth
So I’ve got this stalker, right? His name is David, and he’s a diminuitive homosexual college friend of my father’s, in his 50’s. When I was living in Mexico, he moved down to get away from the rat race, and several years later, took up smoking meth. A year or so after that, he started hallucinating birds talking to him, etc. I am a central character in all of this. It’s great.
Anyway, my parents started receiving magazine subscriptions a couple months ago, and he’s tried to get together with me so I take the chip out of his head and whatnot. Whatever. What follows is truly a rare gem–a coherent dissertation by someone who’s addled their brains with drugs. This guy was a simpering cock before all this happened, anyway.
Last names and email addresses have been redacted. Go make yourself some hot fucking cocoa, and enjoy. First, the email:
Dear all
I am sending an attachment with this message that describes the things that have been happening to me since July 10, 2007. I know that some of the things you will read in the document will be difficult to believe, but I swear that everything I’ve written is to the best of my knowledge true. The other people who I speak of in this (and I’m sending this to some of you) know these things to be true as well. I have tried to bring this situation to a resolution, but nothing ever improves. In fact, the pain and torture that I have dealt with only seem to become more and more malicious every day. I hope someone will believe me, will understand that I am not imagining these things, and will understand that I am not now nor have I ever been addicted to any drug of any kind except, perhaps, nicotine.
The document is in the form of a letter to my friend Cindy [redacted], but I want as many people as possible to know my situation. I am asking those of you who know this is true to come forward and help me bring this to an end. The implications of this for other people are staggering. Those of you who know me but haven’t been involved with this, I as for you help too. I cannot do this alone. And I am not crazy. I’m just
David
And the attachment, “I want to let you know.doc”. By the way, I’m Nathan:
Dear Cindy
I want to let you know some of the details of what’s been happening to me because of this chip in my head. I know this is all very hard to believe, but I want to tell people because when the truth (and the chip) comes out, someone will know as far as I can tell the facts of what has been going on. It is as difficult for me to believe as it is for anyone else (except, of course, the others involved in this), but there are a lot of people besides those in Mexico who have spent a lot of time and money to keep this situation unknown to anyone but themselves.Nathan [redacted] and his friends(?) – including – believe it or not – your old friends from Eckerd College Martha (Marty), Bruce [redacted], Bruce [redacted], Pat [redacted] and Peter [redacted] (Mr. Military History Major) – have now had over 10 months to torture me and to use me as a guinea pig so they can learn how to manipulate this chip so as to cause my body and mind to react in different ways. I’ve actually “spoken” to each of these former college acquaintances of both of ours directly, and they identified themselves as such. (I write “spoken” with quotation marks because I never actually say anything out loud; everything I “say” to them is actually me thinking.)
I don‘t know exactly how it works myself, but by sending these electronic impulses to my brain via this chip, they are able to make me feel various sensations in my body, cause my eyes to water and distort my vision. They seem to take particular delight in making my asshole twitch and my penis to feel impulses – without an erection, although there are reactions in other body areas as well. It’s not exactly pain, though. (I once read that pain is just a body location you are especially aware of. And that’s what this is.) Sometimes, I feel it in my arms, my legs, and they can manipulate my heartbeat as well. (They call it giving me a “heart attack”.)
By manipulating the volume control of this chip, all of the noises in my environment are greatly exaggerated so that the sound of my mother eating a potato chip or turning the page of a newspaper is so loud, it’s maddening. Also, because of their transmission of sound via these microwaves – cell phone transmissions – my mother picks up on some of this because of her deafness, and, without noticing, she makes the sounds that they transmit. I hear her unknowingly repeat certain words over and over such as “I can’t tell you” and other innocuous phrases such as that. They have even caused her to “say” things such as “suck my cock” and “fuck you” without her knowing it. I know it sounds weird, but it’s true. Because of her deafness, Mom sometimes unknowingly makes breathing noises, and this they have been able to somehow connect to.
I’m not crazy. These things happen. They keep me from going to sleep, and wake me up several times each night. This happened at your house during both visits. As a matter of fact, Martha – the little fat, giggly girl who was yours and Georgana’s friend at Eckerd – was listening to our conversations when I was visiting you. The former Eckerd or FPC people are presumably still living in the St. Pete/Tampa area. Somehow Nathan has connected with these people, and they are very much involved with this as well as others who I think must be what Don once referred to as his “little circle of friends.” Even Sue [redacted] is in on this. The Eckerd people all know you and your ex-boyfriend Mark, because they were all in the same crowd at school. Sue knows Gibby Way because they went to high school together in St. Pete.
I believe also that this group contains a family with the last name of Secor, because I’ve heard the names Steven, Don, Karen, Scott, Cindy and Tim Secor. There’s a Johnny (I once heard Nathan say “I don’t manipulate Johnny’s love”). There’s a Warren [redacted] (sp?) and a Richard. There’s an Islelie, a Susan [redacted] and a Nicholas, all of whose phone numbers I found in Don’s phone book when I was down there. (Surprisingly, when I looked in Don’s phone book, these three were the last entries and all had Tampa area codes.)
Other names I’ve heard include Lisa, Leslie, Nicole Hughes, Jane [redacted], Margo, Margarite, Martina, Maureen, Marlene, Marie, Paul, Anthony, Orrey (or Orrin), Roger, Brian, Martin, and Hayden. Of course, many of these may be spurious. One name, though, I know is correct is a guy named Michael. He told me his name while I was stuck in the traffic north of Atlanta the first time I came to visit you in Georgia. (I believe he’s the former Sue [redacted]’s nephew. Sue may be the Sue [redacted] mentioned above.) While in traffic, he told me that his name was Michael Mellor (he even spelled it out). Earlier that same day, I was awakened at 5 am at Georgana’s by Nathan calling me “Tinkerbelle, the little fairy everyone is starting to believe in.” This incident was “talked” about during the trip from Hernando, Florida, to Georgia. I “said” that I may be Tinkerbelle, but Nathan was definitely “Dumbelina.” At this Michael Mellor said that “his uncle Warren deserved to be called Dumbelina” too because of the decisions he had made.
Like any cell phone system, they can transmit pictures and video, so many times during the day and night I feel my eyes burning, and when I close them I “see” pornographic pictures of what I have been “told” was Nathan’s and Steven Secor’s erections, Nathan “shitting” (which they’ve said was actually a Tootsie Roll coming out of his ass), and Nathan pissing. (And, though I’ve never actually seen Nathan’s penis in person, I know if the pictures are really him, he’s uncircumcised.) I’ve seen Nathan’s face. I’ve seen pornographic videos both hetero- and homosexual, as well as visuals such as one would use as a screensaver. These images have gone on for days at a time and all night long.
Also, it seems to me that Don [redacted] is more aware of what really has been happening to me than I originally suspected. One reason is because twice while I was in West Palm he put his finger directly on the chip in my head, and the second time he did this, he said “maybe….” Now that I think about it, even as long ago as last September or early October, he was telling me not to “listen to the voices in my head.” Of course, he was trying to make it sound like I was crazy.
And his girlfriend Sylvia [redacted] from Mexico is in this too. One night shortly after I got back to Fort Wayne, Nathan spoke to me as Nathan. That night, I also “spoke” with Noah [redacted], a long-time friend of his and Ben’s from San Jose, as well as Don’s girlfriend Sylvia.If I’m not mistaken, Nathan was in Mexico at the same time this started happening to me, because he showed himself in a bar there one night. I only realized it was him after I was back in Fort Wayne because of the fact that the person I saw in the bar and Nathan’s hair are the same distinctive color of blond. He was with another person, who I’ve been told was Steven Secor. They had a friend and former student of mine (Daniel) call me to meet him at a bar. When I got to the bar, it was about 11 pm, dark inside with black lights and spotlights on a really bad band doing bad covers of bad late-60s acid rock. As I was looking for Daniel, a guy with long, dark hair in a ponytail was sitting on a bar stool, leaning against the wall. This guy said “hello, David.” I didn’t recognize him but was polite. After a few minutes of small talk, he said “there’s Ben,” and I turned and dancing some distance behind me in the dark bar was a blond who I now believe was Nathan. The arrogance of flaunting this in my face and of using Nathan’s brother’s name is unbelievable. Kathy [redacted] may know if Nathan went to Mexico last July. (Remember, this started happening to me on July 10.) I don’t know what Daniel thought he was doing by setting this up, but when I got home and called him, he said he was just finishing his shower. I did not return to the bar that night.
Another thing about Don that leads me to think he knows about this is that he told me that Sylvia was visiting him in West Palm Beach before the two of them went to a Rolfing convention in Boston last October. (I called him on his cell phone when he as at the airport picking her up. I’ve known Sylvia for a long time because she was with Don when he first passed through Fort Wayne before I went back with him to Mexico.) He told me that she was going to visit someone in Washington, D.C., for a weekend and then would meet him in Boston before the two of them went to spend two weeks in New York. Recently, I “overheard” someone talk about the “Beltway,” which can only mean D.C., so I think Sylvia met someone connected to this business there. I believe someone was going to D.C. from Tampa/St. Pete this week, and I heard them talking about it.
I want you to know about those magazine subscriptions too. For several weeks last fall, Nathan told me that he was being kept as a sex slave/whore by Gibby [redacted] and David [redacted]. He told me that they were keeping him chained to a bed, constantly drugged with a dildo up his butt. He kept saying “Gibby [redacted] doesn’t give me away”. They made noises of a chain dragging across metal and the sounds of someone being beaten, which I was to believe was David [redacted] beating Nathan. I now believe that Nathan and his girlfriend, who you said was no longer with him, did these little “psycho dramas” together.
By the way, her name has variously included Debbie, Christina, Catherine, and Marina. I don’t know if any of them are true, but Marina seems particularly ironic and carefully chosen because of the fact that they are building a new marina in La Playita, where Don’s property is in Mexico. And, Don mentioned Nathan’s girlfriend as “Marina,” although he mispronounced it twice, giving it that soft “n” in Spanish but with differently accented syllables each time, as if he didn’t remember. Now I suspect that he tried not to actually say “marina” in English for fear that I would catch on.
There’s another thing you should know. I think they put one of these chips in the head of one of Nathan’s boyhood friends in La Playita (and my friend as well), Oscar [redacted]. He’s Nathan’s age and played the bass in the band that Nathan and Ben had in Mexico. Oscar smoked a lot of methamphetamine – and I started smoking some too, because I wanted to know what he was going through. I never let myself become addicted, but Oscar went through a period of “hearing” voices screaming in his head (similar, I realize now, to what has been happening to me for the past 10 months), and he’d say to me “can’t you hear them?”, but I couldn’t. He was very distraught. I’ve read a lot about meth addiction, and not one account has included auditory hallucination. Most of them involve paranoia and visuals such as “seeing” people in the bushes outside your house, etc. But Oscar kept hearing women being raped, screaming for help in Spanish. I think that Nathan’s friend Noah was behind this because Oscar worked for her at her little printing/internet café business in San Jose. This Steven fellow, who I think helped Nathan with my initial torturing in Mexico, “told” me that he was surprised that Noah knew how to work the software that they were using when they went there to start on me.
I believe one of my dearest friends in Mexico, Vanessa (she’s the one who wanted to know what “humping” meant) was helping them too, but I think they tricked her into this by telling her that I was addicted to drugs and this would help me. But the only night I heard her voice (and recognized it), I asked “why are you hurting me?” and she said “we never wanted to hurt you, David.” I never heard her voice again.
But to get back to the magazines, I really did believe that Nathan was being tortured. He said they “forced” him to give blow jobs, but kept him drugged all the time. I called both Don and Gibby about this situation, and Don sent me an email saying that it was unbelievable that Gibby “with his delicate, fragile wrists” – a quote from his email – could never do this and intimated that I was crazy for thinking such a thing. I wanted to make Gibby and David [redacted] stop torturing Nathan, so I sent magazines to them (to false addresses I found in MSN white pages). But I also sent them to Don, Kathy and Ben [redacted] at Don’s West Palm Beach address, hoping this would get them to stop or for someone to check into what was going on. At the time, I had absolutely no money, so I had no other means to do anything.
Of course, Don or someone else put in the change of address for Kathy in West Palm Beach so that she would have to deal with the magazines, since I have never known Kathy’s St. Pete address. When I looked it up, it was listed as “5980 80th Street North”, and I sent a lot of magazines there too. Nathan and his girlfriend told me that Kathy was living with a guy from West Palm Beach named David [redacted], who is an old friend of Don’s, and when I looked up his and Don’s addresses on MSN white pages, they too were listed at 5980 80th Street N in St. Pete. Kathy was supposed to have married this David [redacted] last Labor Day. Of course, now I know that’s not true. I also was told that all Kathy does is “sit around in a stoned stupor” all day.
Some nights I have heard them bragging about sitting around doing crack cocaine. I once heard a guy they called “Kirby” (with his girlfriend “Angie”) say he needed a Coke can to make a pipe. I think that Nathan delivers pot to some to some of these people, whether from Kathy or not, I know not. However, I have heard them talk about flying a plane with coke to St. Pete from Marathon, Florida, near Miami, and someone once said “it’s in the fuselage.” The woman named Lisa said that there’s also mushrooms and ecstasy involved. I don’t know how much of this is true, but some of it must be, because of their bragging about “doing lines,” “this coke is great” and other such talk. I think this is when they keep me up all night.
I know they did research on my family as well, because when I was in Mexico, they talked about my niece Amanda and her “seven-year-old” son. I hadn’t seen Amanda for about 10 years before I left Fort Wayne in 2002, and did not know that she had a son. (Remember, this started happening about 15 years since I’d seen her.) They talked about having Amanda come to Mexico so that they could turn her son into a white sex slave. Now that I’ve met him, he is the most wonderful little seven-year-old you would ever want to meet. And I wonder how they knew this about my family when I didn’t even know it. In Mexico, they talked about my niece Stephanie in Chicago and my sisters in Fort Wayne. They threatened to burn down my mother’s house as well as Stephanie’s (Stephanie lives in an apartment) and to kill my family. On the same subject, they also threatened to kill the six-year-old son of my Mexican friend Yolanda, at whose house I’d taken refuge immediately before leaving there since La Playita was unbearable. They threatened to assault him sexually then kill him by shoving a shotgun up his ass and videotaping his death.
Nathan knows the passwords to my email accounts (as well as my bank accounts and credit card numbers) because he knows everything I think. He has been able to get into my email and delete messages that he and others have sent to me. Because of this, I now forward most of my mail from one account to another so that the messages will pass from my In Box to my Sent Mail folder where they cannot be deleted. I know some these messages are either in Nathan’s Gmail account “[redacted]” or in Don’s ([redacted]) as well as in the folders of others. I think Nathan knows Don’s password because I have received messages from Don that were obviously not from him. (I sent Don clear evidence of this via the post office but never heard from him.) I even once received a message from “Don” where Kathy’s name was spelled “Cathy.” When I was at Don’s in West Palm, I looked in his Sent Mail folder once when he left his email signed on. All of the entries in his Sent Mail had been forwarded back to himself on two successive days near the end of the year, so they did not have their original sent dates. But the evidence is there, because it can’t be deleted.
Another email issue that concerns my Gmail accounts has to do with the fact that Nathan has a friend named John who he went to visit in California when he first left Mexico and before he went back to St. Pete. This John sent me my first invitation to open a Gmail account. I’ve been “told” this person works as a free-lance programmer for Google. I’ve been “told” also that Nathan has found out from this person how to stop mail from going directly to my account, probably by some sort of mail forwarding such as one would do when one is on vacation. I now use a Yahoo account because of this. But I know this because I recently contacted my friend Vanessa in San Jose, and she said she’d sent me a message for my birthday to my Gmail account, which I did not receive. I believe he has stopped my messages from going out to other people as well. Somehow both my incoming and outgoing mail through Gmail has been manipulated, and I believe this John has something to do with it.
Before I finish, I want you to know that I want this to stop, but it won’t. I have tried to be reasonable and work something out with the people behind this even going so far as to stop at the airport in Tampa for an hour and a half for someone to meet me there. This was a detour I took on my way to West Palm Beach in March. I believe that they have a connection at some sort of a phone company, whether it is one that actually provides phone service or a contractor for one. One thing is that I believe part of the system that supports this is with a conference-type phone. This sort of system allows multiple callers to be connected at the same time and to be manipulated by a central “operator” (generally Nathan). I know this because I used a similar service at Wells Fargo for training people on Microsoft Outlook.
Also, I think that Nathan has told others that I was bothering him via a cell phone after I returned home, for what reason I know not. However, I have never had a cell phone, there are no phone records or bills to support this, and, as you may remember when I used yours, I barely know how to use one a cell phone. I have never known Nathan’s actual phone number, and the one I found for him and Kathy via Google was not the one Don gave me as Kathy’s. As you can see, they can change phone numbers and addresses on the internet.
Also, the Sunday night before Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I heard someone who identified herself as “Elizabeth in Kansas City” wonder why my connection was still on when she was supposed to perform maintenance on the system. She mentioned that her “boss’s boss” was this Warren [redacted] that I mentioned earlier. He came on the line at that time and told her to just do her job. I’ve never heard her again, although as you can see, this Warren’s name has come up many times.
Also, at one time I “told” these people that they would be found out because every email message includes an IP address in its header information, whether we see that information or not. (An IP address is a specific number assigned to each PC that signs onto the internet.) Shortly afterwards, I heard another woman (who I subsequently heard several other times) identify herself as “Linda from Programming.” She said that Nathan did not have the authority to have IP addresses changed and she would have to check with “Warren.”
You may doubt all this, but I think if someone sent this to me, I would think it was too involved to be just delusions and/or residual drug addiction. There are too many people here for me to have made this all up. However, the torture never lets up. The other night, they were constantly bothering my eyes and my heart, for no other reason than to cause me pain. This has continued the entire time I have spent writing this to you.
As I said in the beginning, they have had over 10 months to learn what this chip can do to a person, and I can think of no other reason for continuing this except to do “field” tests and to train other people in using it. I’m afraid they want to sell this in other countries. As I said, I suspect they already have put a chip in Oscar’s head, and I’ve heard them talking about selling it to the Japanese.
My concern is that this will happen to others. I don’t care so much for myself – obviously, I can take all that they dish out – but there are others who could not. I fear for children like my niece’s son or my friend Yolanda’s boy. There are serious national security implications as well, because they know everything that I think and do, and hear everything that is said to me. It’s like I’m a walking wire tap and could be used to hear what others are saying without actually planting a “bug”, or to direct other people to do things from afar.
Also, several months before this started happening, my friend Yolanda, who’s a very good architect, was told that Secretary of State Condelezza Rice had purchased property in the very upscale housing development that’s part of the marina project in La Playita. Maybe they want to sell this to terrorists. I don’t know, but I do know that some of the security guards for the marina were involved in torturing me there.
Because they even know what I am thinking and what I say and what others say to me, I have absolutely no privacy. They can even manipulate my emotions so that I become distraught and frustrated. This happens often. And it never stops – they even interrupt my dreams, and I’ve heard them say that Nathan plays the pornography all night, even while I sleep. Sleep deprivation happens in some form nearly every night.
Like I said, I can take what they dish out. It’s probably pretty easy to torture someone who you don’t know and who’s 1000 miles away. I don’t want to believe that Don’s involved with this knowingly, but I know that Nathan [redacted] is. For him, it seems he has fun making my life hell. And I think all of this stemmed from an incident that happened a year before this torture started – almost to the day. Nathan came to visit in Mexico and, of course, stayed at Don’s property. One night, he, Oscar and two others came back from a party at 3 in the morning. I was trying to sleep because I had classes to teach the next morning. I put up with their noise until 5:30, when I told them to break it up. Two of the people left, but Oscar and Nathan went inside Don’s casita. Nathan took Oscar to his college about 7:30, and when he returned I spoke to him about his thoughtlessness in keeping me awake when I had work to do. He said, “I live here,” to which I replied “No, Nathan, you do not. I live here. You live in St. Pete, although you are welcome to visit anytime.” I believe he did this so that I did not live there either.
After that exchange, the discussion became an argument, which is Nathan’s way of never admitting he did anything wrong. He left, and I didn’t see him until the next day, when he returned just before I left for more classes. When I returned that night, he’d taken all of his clothes and everything else he thought was his including the washing machine – all in Don’s car. He didn’t even return the car when he left; Oscar picked it up at Noah’s house. I never saw Nathan again until that night in the bar that I wrote about above. But I’ve “seen” his image almost every night, and I’ve “talked” with him every day since July 10, 2007.
There are other instances that I could relate (the worst were in Mexico when this first started). At one time, it was Nathan and Don that were doing this. At another time, it was Ben [redacted] and Nathan.
I am not crazy. These things happened and continue to happen. The one thing of which I am absolutely certain is that I have a chip in my head. That’s the only tangible piece of evidence I have, and it’s the one that worries them the most. I believe this chip, like all manufactured electronic parts, has a serial number on it that will point to the person or persons from whom Nathan obtained it. That’s my ace in the hole. I’m relating this to you now because the torture has been relentless and intentionally malicious the past few weeks. As I said, I don’t care so much for myself, but I want to make sure this never happens to anyone else.
Anyway, I’m going to the police with this letter on Monday, just to let them know in case he shows up in Florida again. How exciting.
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3 Responses to “On the long-term side effects of crystal meth”
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Nice writing style. Looking forward to reading more from you.
Chris Moran
Good Blog. I will continue reading it in the future. Nice layout too.
Aaron Wakling