Around April of this year, I started thinking about studying the piano again.
I contacted the conservatory of Tarbes in France, close to Lourdes, to find out if I could sign up for courses.
I wrote a long email to them, and I chased it a couple of times.
They never wrote back.
This experience was so common for me while I lived in Lourdes, I began to think it was a “thing” in France to be ignored on email, even when I’d painstakingly translated everything I wanted to say into French.
I had posted actual letters too, and these were also ignored.
Interestingly, this was a year that I was still concerned I had heart disease.
I’d been worried about this since probably June 2015, but it got much worse in June 2019 when I became convinced I was going to have a heart attack at any moment.
I tried to get help for it and failed repeatedly.
In Lourdes, I emailed a few heart specialists close to where I lived.
Every email I wrote was totally ignored!
I gave up.
I now believe that my emails, and letters, were being intercepted by the sedating porn-gangs of Dénia, and their French co-conspirators, because they were planning on my return to their spy-cam porn-studios and if I signed up for the Tarbes conservatory, I would not leave Lourdes.
Furthermore, if I managed to get some heart specialist to tell me I was completely fine, the gangs would not be able to get their GP’s to prescribe me heart medicine; like they do when we start complaining of severe and unexpected anxiety attacks after repeated sedated rape, which they expect.
This was the first year the 1989 rave scene music became predominant on my trip to Cauterets.
I started listening to it obsessively while I was visiting.
Also while I was here, interestingly, something prompted me to contact Christine Betterton Jones out of the blue who I hadn’t spoken to for at least ten years.
I’ll never forget the advert for a piano-for-sale in the laundry either - a strange place to put an ad for a piano in a tiny town, with tinier apartments, which is totally empty of people for most of the year.
I thought about buying it, and I even asked my landlords if I could have a piano, and of course they said no but I could have a keyboard.
I think this ad was put there on purpose; a little psychological priming, if you will.