July 2024

EthCC

• I travel from London to Brussels to attend a crypto conference, EthCC, as part of my role with Polygon Labs.
• I’m in Belgium till the 11^th July, after which I return to London on the train and take the boat from Portsmouth to Bilbao and then I drive home to Dénia.

European Court of Human Rights

• In my hotel room, on my work laptop, away from my hacked home networks in Spain and North London, I’m finally able to access the ECHR website.
• Remember, in February I tried to contact the European Court of Human Rights and was immediately blocked from doing so, then teased relentlessly online for having tried to do so.

• In Belgium, I’m able to easily find a way to report what is going on for me to the European Commission and I write to them on my work laptop: receipt from the European Commission website.

• I tell them I’m being terrorized in a public music school in Spain by teachers and staff, that the conservatory system is funded by European grants, and that the Spanish school board appears to be complicit.

• I tell them my serious concerns about the safety of children at the school.
• I tell them I made numerous complaints to the school board.
• I tell them I have been hacked and persecuted by people in the town.
• I tell them I have been to the Spanish police twice and ignored.
• Like everyone else, the commission refuses to help me, and fobs me off saying no law has been broken!

• I receive a response in early August to my letter.

  

• I take their advice and write numerous letters to the Spanish government organization they suggest I contact, to which I never receive a reply.

• I see now that, along with the police and the Generalitat, the European Commission gives British and Spanish criminal porn gangs the all clear to carry on doing whatever they like to children in the Spanish school system, and make a horrible example of me at the same time; someone who dared speak up about how criminal porn-gangs control schools in Spain, countrywide probably.

Mushroom man says sorry

• At a Polygon evening event - part of the EthCC conference in Brussels - mushroom man, Hudson Jameson, apologizes to me for something he said in Bali.
• He won’t tell me what it was though.
• I assume he is talking about when he met me in the morning to distract me before the Indian (he said Pakistani but I’m not convinced) guy that looked like Jitendra Das could introduce himself.
• Or, I wonder if he was apologizing for when he, Ajay, Aman, and Alicia and their respective teams performed a military coup on my role.
• He’s leaving little business cards with his mushroom-man picture on them all over the conference; I see them everywhere.
• I laugh with him a little about his cards.
• On my way down to the event, I had stopped to listen to a busker singing Radiohead’s Creep, which was amazing.
• We spoke a little about hallucinogens too.
• He told me how they help him with depression.
• I told him I was open to hallucinogenic plants, but for healing purposes only.
• I explained that it is not a good idea to misuse a powerful living being such as a healing plant for any reason at all, and that the karma can be immense with ever-spreading tendrils.

Meeting a weird guy

• No-one speaks to me in Brussels.
• I do notice a lot of snickering whenever I walk past some of the engineers I work with.
• I even see Tom from Consensys, who would giggle hysterically while on Zoom with me (making me wonder if they were posting something just for him from my hacked laptop) ignores me
• I wonder if Leo from Polygon was told I was a sedated rape-porn star? I thought he was a nice boy.
• All this was just before Pelicot was found to be inviting the whole town round to rape his sedated wife and uploading it onto porn networks.
• I guess the pre-Pelicot masculine felt it was normal, something that just happens, their privilege perhaps, and that no-one would ever be held to account.
• Perhaps porn addicts still feel that sedating and raping women is their human right.
• Anyway.
• A weird guy does talk to me at EthCC, only one.
• His name is something Islamic, possibly Hassan but I can’t remember.
• He’s the only person who talks to me at EthCC.
• I’m having a burger for lunch at the burger bar, and he asks to join me.
• I say yes and he sits down opposite me.
• He’s tall, dark-skinned, with black curly hair, gitano looking.
• He gives me his card.
• He’s running a crypto business in Alicante, apparently, and he’s looking for a technical writer, apparently.
• He has a brown flasher’s overcoat coat and he is using a stick to walk, which is probably fake.
• At one point in our conversation I ask him if he’s a religious man.
• He gets visibly scared.
• I think it’s cos he’s Islamic and they don’t like talking to women about religion.
• Now, I’m not so sure.
• He’ll be on CCTV, oh you know already, great.

Gabriel Silva is given my role at Polygon

• While at the conference, a number of things related to my role and status in the company happen.
• The situation I’m in is ridiculous.
• My team (Hans and Anthony) refuse to talk to me, and I’m their manager, and none of my managers will support me.
• I don’t realize Hans and Anthony have been instructed to behave this way.
• The whole thing is inexplicable to me at the time.
• I find Miriam, the Spanish HR representative, to talk to her again about what’s being going on.
• Miriam, you may remember, is the woman I reported threats of sexual violence over dinner to in Bali.
• I guess nothing happened about that.
• I remind her that Hans and Anthony have mutinied and made my job impossible to do.
• I also remind her that Hans has done no work in months (I think now that Hans was probably contracted specifically to get me to leave post-Bali and so he doesn’t actually have to do any work).
• She’s very aware of the situation, as is Paul O’Leary my manager, as it was the justification for taking two weeks vacation at the last minute… and running my UK general election campaign.
• I tell her how stressed I am, that their behavior is insubordinate, especially Hans.
• I tell her I’d like to step down from my role, it’s too stressful, everyone hates me, no work is getting done, I can’t manage a team of people who refuse to talk to me.
• What game are you playing, she says.
• I’m amazed.
• I guess everyone has been expecting me to resign, but I’ve no intention of it.
• A day later, Paul O’Leary tells me that they’ve decided Gabriel Silva is going to take over my role.
• Gabriel is about to get married but when he’s back he’ll be the team manager in my place.
• I’m relieved.
• I don’t realize, although perhaps it’s obvious, that Gabriel Silva is a key part of concerted efforts to get rid of me post-Bali.
• Constant drugging and poisoning makes it hard to think clearly about things.

Dreaming of Gabriel

• Constant drugging and poisoning gives me strange and insightful dreams, however.
• While Gabriel is getting married, I dream about him.
• It’s a weird dream and it feels like I’m in his head.
• He is with his wife on their wedding night.
• He is standing at the bottom of the bed wearing nothing but a baseball cap.
• He has an erection and he is swinging his penis from side to side, maybe even in circles like an baby elephant might do with their trunk.
• He then jumps up onto the bed and moves towards her.
• I wake up and feel quite unwell.

Hacking expert - details tbc

• I go to a talk on the first morning which I’m extremely interested in.
• It is billed as a talk about hacking, specifically Twitter hacking.
• The talk is extremely interesting and the speaker is open to communication with the audience afterwards.
• I wait to talk to him at the end.
• I explain I’m hacked really badly on Twitter/X and have been for some time.
• I explain that whoever is targeting me can tailor the content on my UI and control my timeline.
• He says he can help me and he gives me his card and asks me to contact him later because there’s a whole bunch of people waiting to talk to him.
• I say thanks and email him later on that day.
• I don’t get a reply for ages, and I may send a reminder email.
• When he does eventually reply, he says he can help me but it will cost around £20000.
• He’s fobbing me off.
• Someone warned him off me.
• Who?
• I’m beginning to understand that some of the more unusual hacking techniques I experience over the last years (such as controlled Google search results) must be coming from backend engineers at X, Google, YouTube, etc, who are fully involved in stalking and terrorizing me and other women as part of the female-tech-colleague-you-hate porn genre or worse.
• And why wouldn’t they be.
• I’m just wondering if there are any good men in tech and why they aren’t speaking up about their depraved colleagues.
• And how many women they have destroyed already, or are still in the process of destroying… snickering all the way.
• It’s obvious that everyone was just waiting for me to die.
• Someone was assuring them, maybe still is, that it would only be a matter of time.
• And yet, I’m still here.

Pig butchers and crypto-transaction tracking

• I go to a talk given by a well-known company in the crypto space (details tbc) who track and prove crypto-ownership to held combat fraud.
• They first explain the whole pig-butcher industry in Cambodia and how it works.
• I’m amazed to discover fraudsters literally live in small enclosed towns - like prisons because they’re not allowed to leave - and work day and night on phishing online for Western folk with money who might part with it.
• I’m familiar with these sorts of accounts; I had thousands ping me when I ran for general election in the UK, many of them pretending to be nice-looking, armed forces gentlemen looking for love.
• Here’s one. He’s 117 years old dontchaknow.

• From time to time I might message them back saying; don’t worry, we’re coming to free you all, or similar, which probably wasn’t in good taste but I was perma-high.
• The most interesting part of this talk, I found, was a couple of solid demonstrations of how crypto-ownership can be easily tracked, especially when it comes to major fraud and child sex-trafficking.
• Very comforting.

Ben says something weird, then leaves the company

• I bump into Ben in the hotel foyer on my way back from conference sessions.
• He is standing in the middle of the corridor, in my way, and he comes up to me and has a bit of a rant.
• Except, he’s repeating the same words I said to mushroom man in Bali, when he was distracting me while the conference hall emptied and the Jitendra Das lookalike, Aziz the Rust developer, could introduce himself.
• I guess those words were recorded and broadcast to the paying porn addicts worldwide.
• Ben had famously spent months looking for Azif, the British/Pakistani Rust engineer, or whatever his name was.
• He reported this in every management meeting and, just a few weeks before Bali, he announced that he’d found him.
• Ben leaves the company about a week after his weird rant to me in Belgium.
• This is so strange because Ben, apparently, had a key systems role in the business, and he’s just gone!
• Poof!
• I don’t really understand it and, at the time, I wondered if he was bullied out - I think that’s what he was hoping I would think by repeating my bullied-person words back to me.
• I have an obsessive good view of people who probably don’t deserve it, but I’d rather it was that way.
• Interestingly, when I try to find references for Ben the expert cryptographer, programmer and mathematician online, there are none at all. Zero.
• As if he didn’t even exist!

Meeting my Belgian friend

• I have a dear friend in Belgium with a fabulous name.
• He’s the lead singer of a rather good band, Mister Cover, and he does lots of other cool stuff too.
• I take the opportunity to visit him while I’m in Brussels as he lives very close by.
• We have a lovely evening together.
• He plays me a song he wrote.
• He wants to tell me what it’s about.
• It’s about how when he was a teenager, a girl he was having a consensual sexual relationship had gotten a bit rough with him, and he felt violated.
• He goes into great detail about this major sexual-trauma in his life.
• I’m sitting there thinking… this man hasn’t a clue about anything.
• It’s upsetting.
• Nearly two years later, as more and more men do double-takes in the street when they see me - always grinning but in 2026 not quite so snickeringly - I find this extremely interesting.
• Was it supposed to be upsetting?
• Did Nicos have a criminal porn subscription to my porn-demise like millions of others?
• Could men really hate women this much?
• I explain what’s been going on, how I’m being cyber-stalked online and gang-stalked at home in Spain.
• I tell him they took photos and videos of a sexual nature and terrorized me out of the conservatory in fear for my life.
• It’s only about 1% of what’s really been happening to me, but I tell him everything I’m aware of.
• He appears to be horrified.
• I’m nearly crying, but I pull up knowing that if it starts it won’t stop.
• Eventually, a bit amazed by his song, I also mention my experience at the hands of the Tottenham rape gangs from 1989 and how the Spanish terrorists have been flashing the porn from it on my screen.
• I’m adding this section for investigators who may need to corroborate what I told Nicos while still under the effects of constant drugging and poisoning.
• It will be a good gauge as to how much I knew at that time; just after running for office in the UK general election, and the political silencing there, and whilst attending EthCC with everything going on for me professionally with my colleagues who likely had porn-subscriptions to my apartment’s live-stream.
• I’m about to travel back to Dénia where criminal gangs are planning on finishing me off, knowing no-one will care, and so they can do their worst, which they do, very brazenly and openly, and so I keep writing it all down, which they most certainly did not expect while they carried on digging their own pits.

Evidence of mass cyber-stalking technology, or something more sinister

• I’m back in Dénia on 15^th July.
• I was not sexually aroused at all while away.
• After a couple of days back in Dénia, the sexual arousal starts up again, and it’s intense.
• Moreover, communication with the hackers begins again in earnest.
• It starts in a very interesting way.
• A post comes up on my @JackChardwood account referencing strawberries on July 17^th with a threatening message about staying or leaving.
• Readers will remember the importance of strawberries and the incident from October 2023.
• It also reads like a direct threat to me if I stay.
• I like the post and say something about how I won’t be leaving as I’ve nowhere else to go.
• Suddenly, literally within minutes, 1000s of accounts view this post.

• This is extraordinary.
• I’ve never seen anything like it on my JC account which gets no views at all usually.
• And for this to happen on a tweet about strawberries.
• At the time, it appeared to me that the cyber-stalkers/hackers have technology that can generate this sort of intense fake activity on X at the drop of a hat.
• I thought about it. It must be expensive technology.
• Why would they be using such technology, such resources, to terrorize a lone and vulnerable foreign woman in Dénia? It didn’t make any sense.
• However, if I was actually already very famous on spy-cam and sedated switcheroo porn networks, amongst others, something even my colleagues at Polygon may have been aware of and subscribing to, this random one-off event makes a lot of sense.
• Were these 1000s of accounts actually owned by real human porn-addict men?
• I tell my friend in Madrid (who doesn’t seem to understand what I’m saying) and the expert from DPR in Alicante.
• I explain the situation very clearly to the expert, with screenshots:

• See the whole email thread to the perito.
• I never hear anything back from the expert in Alicante about this, or anything else.
• My friend phones him repeatedly for updates while the receptionist fobs her off.
• In retrospect it’s obvious that everyone is happy for me to be murdered by the porn-gangs of Dénia, after they’ve had their fun and made a bit more money on my suffering.

Criminals feel completely safe, drugging ramps up

• The Dénia porn-gangs have zero concern about ever being brought to justice, even though I stood for general election in the UK.
• They are 100% assured that they can continue terrorizing me, poisoning and drugging me, and whatever else they’ve been doing regularly to me which at this time I’m still unaware of (entering my flat without my knowledge, sedating me via the customized air-con system, etc).
• Drugging significantly ramps up when I arrive back home.
• I am extraordinarily high, all the time, and this is very clear to me in retrospect.
• Also, I am regularly drugged with intense aphrodisiac substances and I masturbate in my home, I believe in private.
• It seems they are able to precisely time the drug administration and its effects.
• This daily drugging-then-masturbation pattern also becomes extraordinarily intense.
• Hackers post images on Google search with people in the same position I was in while masturbating.
• For example, I would masturbate under my covers in my bedroom, and after that I would see pictures of people in bed with their heads covered with blankets.

Opening my mouth

• Something is making me so unusually sexually aroused, I feel like there is a person (my love the trumpet teacher) there with me and I am performing fellatio on him.
• There is no-one there.
• I open my mouth very widely while masturbating.
• My head tilts backwards too.
• I do not understand why this is happening, it’s extremely strange.
• I have never done anything like this before or since.
• At the end of 2025, I am certain this is proof of extreme levels of timed drug-administration and poisoning.
• I thought at one stage that my head going back might be from the effects of methanol poisoning.
• I looked this up and read that low-level methanol poisoning can make your head tilt backwards… except that was probably a hacker making a direct statement to me online, they were able to rewrite my whole UI at the drop of a hat.
• I don’t see a reference saying anything like that online today.
• More recently, I realize that they were creating cartoon animations of fellatio-porn with me starring while I was doing this.
• I’m told the animations are professional and artistic; a quality service of sexual humiliation for their unique tech-bro-porn-addict subscribers hooked on the female-tech-colleague-you-hate genre.
• When I am in Thailand in November 2024, having escaped a murder attempt at home, old white men walk towards me in the street and copy these very same head and mouth movements at me, and probably while filming my reaction too.

Unusually lubricated

• I wake up from a nap and within minutes I feel extraordinarily sexually aroused so I go back to my bedroom to masturbate.
• It feels like someone is in my head giving me instructions.
• I now think this was probably coming from my hacked mobile.
• I reach for the lubricating gel I have in a drawer beside the bed, and a voice says, you don’t need that.
• And indeed, I’m very surprised to notice that I am extremely lubricated already.
• I now believe this is proof that I had just been sedated via the air conditioning mechanism they set up in their spy-cam apartments, and men had entered my property without my knowledge and raped me already that day, and the lubrication I felt was the lube that they use for that purpose.
• Just awful.

Texting Knowhere about the Russian or Ukrainian brutes

• I send a message on WhatsApp to Knowhere, the serviced office facilities in Dénia where I was forced to work after Gordon Bishop at Polygon found evidence of hacking on my home router.
• I want to know if they have CCTV inside and outside the offices.
• I want to know if cameras may have recorded the group of threatening Russian or Ukrainian men who were instructed to come in and stand opposite me while I was working.
• And I want to know if cameras may have recorded those same men and the blond woman, timed precisely to walk past the door as I left the building.
• The manager did not believe the WhatsApp was legit, and he blocked me:

• I do not visit the offices - as far as I can remember - and I contact him via email instead.
• I gift the remaining six days I paid for using the Knowhere services to my friend Elke Kopmann; likely enslaved for hard-labour by the porn-gangs of Dénia via their gitano matchmaking services.

Texting with Sandra Diaz

• Sandra sends me a WhatsApp one evening.
• She says.. Oh I want a man I can pray with, and I find this lovely.
• At this time, I’m so high and sexually aroused all the time, I can think of nothing else but the trumpet teacher.
• Her words trigger the memory of praying the rosary with the trumpet teacher in Madrid.
• I mention this to her; and I’m amazed and dumbfounded.
• I had forgotten this event in the hotel in Madrid when I was praying the rosary.
• It felt like the trumpet teacher was standing in the room with me, very close, and we were praying the rosary together.
• This was trumpet teacher number four that I remembered in September 2025 as being a completely different man from the others, but even so had been looking at a picture of him since June 2023; proof of brain damage I believe.
• Sandra knew about whatever had happened in Madrid that made me think he was in my room with me, or she had been primed to trigger the memory of it by someone else.
• I had completely forgotten about it as it was so weird.
• I’m so flabbergasted by this information when she triggers the memory of it - which is because am seriously high on whatever it is they’re dosing me up on at home in Carrer Furs - I think it is meaningful, firm proof of mine and the trumpet teacher’s true and divinely-blessed love!
• I cannot explain any of this outside of being sedated in the street, or in the hotel elevator perhaps, in Madrid, and then walked back into my hotel room and that particular trumpet teacher coming in with me.
• If that’s correct, him and his cohort - the men I saw hanging around outside the hotel - will also be on CCTV.
• It’s interesting; it seems to me the gitano porn-gangs set up events with a sedated target which they will then trigger specific memories of later on, and as long as the target is under the influence of some hallucinogen at that moment (unless they’re a child and may not need so much chemical assistance), the grooming gets baked-in.

Zoe and the transvestite

• I “bump” into Zoe BJ on the Calle Diana.
• Zoe has been called in to talk to me; perhaps to see how I’m doing and report back on my state of mind.
• She is with a transvestite.
• Perhaps she rented him for the afternoon.
• It’s meant to destabilize me, but also to ensure I don’t try to communicate with her again.
• I shake his hand.
• Zoe and I talk.
• It’s friendly.
• I’m delighted to hear the little dog they had, Lola, is still alive.
• She was wonderful.
• She had the shortest legs but was somehow able to launch herself onto my lap in one go anytime I visited.
• Zoe tells me about her younger daughter Yas who is doing very well by all accounts and I’m delighted.
• She says nothing about the older daughter Asia, and I sense a shadow.
• I explain to her how teachers and staff at the conservatory had terrorized me into fearing for my life - I tell the story in brief because she doesn’t seem interested in the way she would normally be in a story like this.
• In fact, she is not at all interested in my salacious story as I expect her to be, especially when I keep prompting her with you won’t believe the story, you’ll just love it, it’s full of love and romance… and sex; I emphasize that bit.
• I’m playing their own game back at her a bit.
• Zoe remains strangely quiet as I tell her little snippets about the Dénia porn-school phenomena - what I know at the time - and how the teachers and staff have totally lost their minds and the kids there are in peril.
• When I mention a local woman who had followed me on the beach every day, the year before, dressing up as Lorraine Blackbourn at the piano concert in March, Zoe looks alarmed, scared even.
• But she doesn’t follow up or ask for information.
• Was her look of fear concern that the town-idiots are blowing the lid off a perfect porn scam that had been running for decades without issue; a hideous, monstrous, and murderous life-jail-term porn scam in which she’s implicated?
• Zoe tells me she has been going to the police to translate for a woman in Ondara or Pedreguer who is being terrorized by her neighbors who keep slipping nasty notes under her door.
• Zoe says she does this all the time for the police.
• I ask her if the woman is foreign.
• She says yes, Dutch. I say it’s always the same isn’t it.
• She doesn’t respond.
• I believe Zoe knows exactly what happened to Lorraine; perhaps everyone in the town does.
• Does no-one talk because they are worried about ending up dead in the field with the other women and children, and perhaps some men who made the mistake of raising the alarm?
• Are Zoe, Marie, and all the foreign residents who don’t end up in the field with the horse key porn-gang components?

The running girl

• I continue on with my chores.
• I need to go to the post office after buying vegetables.
• As I’m walking around the town, I see a woman, anxious and stressed, constantly looking at her phone, running here and there.
• She runs alongside me, she bumps into me as I leave the post office, she’s always there.
• I know they’re showing me her.
• Another target.
• They’re also showing me how they use tracking software on hacked phones coupled with manipulating honey-trap activity; for example, boyfriend texts, “come here now”, etc… or in Alicia’s case in Bali, the boss texts “come here immediately” in an angry way…
• It’s like they’re playing a real-life video game where they can move the women and children whose phones they control around at will, and get them to bump into each other.
• Maybe that’s extra points.
• Curiously, or intentionally, the woman reminds me of Zoe BJ’s sister.
• She’s dressed a like a cheap porn star.
• She’s tall, heavily made up, dark skinned, long black straightened hair, and she’s wearing a skimpy dress and massive platform boots, and her fake-looking boobs are pushing up out of her dress all over the place, you know what I mean.
• She checks her phone, sighs anxiously again, and runs off.
• Another foreigner I guess.
• Anyone born in the region, or having family there, will know what’s going on and who is involved; that’s why they go for newcomers.
• One wonders if the porn gangs have effectively made the local population prisoners in their own homes, afraid to use technology.

Mercedes at the Carrefour

• I go to the Carrefour to do my shopping one Saturday.
• Mercedes is behind me in the queue.
• Mercedes has quite often “bumped” into me at the Carrefour over the last years.
• She looks ashamed.
• She can’t or won’t look me in the eye.
• I give the thumbs-up to the cashier.
• The cashier laughs.
• The cashier is the woman who was at the Buddhist temple at Easter in 2015 when I first found out about Mike Wenham having found some justice after (being manipulated by the porn gangs into) undergoing a failed penis enlargement operation and then murdering a woman.
• Does Mercedes know I’m permanently brain damaged from drugs and poisons, and that the gangs plan on murdering me soon?

Google search

• My Google search results on “@1frgvn X”, “@1frgvn Twitter”, “@jctot19 X”, and “@jctot19 Twitter” continue to have porn-gang target significance.
• This is a screenshot from my mobile in July 2024.

• The boy I’m supposed to think is the trumpet teacher as a youngster comes up in first place - and has been since November 2023, and will continue to do so for at least six more months.
• Bev White is a woman who stood in Cambridge for the Party of Women so it makes sense to see her there in July 2024.
• The @aniloviator account’s vapid and kind of rape-apologetic answer to my poll about rape comes up in third place.
• Are they still trying to convince me the trumpet teacher and Ana Requena are a romantic item, nearly two years down the road?
• Do they need a myth like this for a drugged target’s mind to loop on so that they can feed other triggering information in, such as the intense grooming for porn that was about to begin.
• Is that why they picked a rape themed post?
• Were Google backend engineers involved in tailoring my search results? Or do the gangs steal or buy backend logins from them?

Big chat with the hacker begins

• A conversation begins with the hacker(s) which goes on all summer and beyond.
• We talk via my X account’s profile messages.
• They respond to me via fake X accounts that like one of my posts immediately; their response in the account name and/or profile message.
• Here’s an example of how I might ask them something.

• And here’s an example of how they might reply.

• I have a better reply than this somewhere, and I’ve started to post the ones I have, but you get the picture.
• That was, in fact, a reply that came directly after I went public in September 2023 in an early attempt at fighting back.
• A more obvious example might be the way they taunted me relentlessly about the kidney injury they gave me and the porn specials they put me in (kissbangchristmas is the reference to that here).

• The actual answer they gave to my question about how many women they were surveilling at any time was three; three women enduring the same as I at that time.
• I wonder if those women were also part of the female-tech-colleague-you-hate porn genre, or perhaps their subscriber audience was from another industry, sports maybe? Or the Spanish civil service?
• A lot of the comments over this period were in regard to sexual arousal and masturbation and I was starting to realize there must be cameras in my apartment.
• Nevertheless, I wanted the hackers to feel safe conversing with me.
• Obviously there is no record of my profile messages unless I screenshot them, and they could tell if I was doing that as they had total access to my devices - and I was aware of that - so I only screenshot one example.
• The conversation starts with me being astonished at the level of technology the hacker has at his fingertips.
• I realize it’s his job; he’s not just a silly boy having a laugh with his idiot mates, this is big business.
• He confirms this.
• He (or she) says he wasn’t expecting me to run for election.
• In retrospect probably many of the responses were coming directly from Hazel, but with a lot more eyes on the conversation.
• I believe I’m talking to the trumpet teacher still, or someone close to him.
• I feel the man I love is in there somewhere, and from time to time we are talking directly.
• I joke about how Domingo “whips his students up into a frenzy”.

• It’s what I saw with my own eyes; his female students flushed, excited, breathless, giggly, nervous, … horrifying.
• I post tweets saying let’s go for coffee and such like.
• I post a whole series of tweets I call the “Is it true…” series.
• “Is it true” was a sort of comedy special where I would say things like: “Is it true since you met me women and girls have started unlocking their doors up and down the Marina Alta.”
• Things like that.
• I believe I got a few laughs with that one.
• In this unusual way, we chat about things that have happened between us, that no one could know unless he told them, or is telling them; private looks we made to each other for example.
• I’m sure it’s the trumpet teacher.
• Of course I have no idea how many thousands of eyes are on me from all over the world.
• Even through the euphoria and hallucinogens, I am beginning to realize I’m dealing with something extraordinarily sinister, however.
• As mentioned previously, I feel extremely sexually aroused these last two weeks in July in Dénia before I leave for Lourdes and the Pyrenees for the summer.
• It’s only when I got back to Dénia from the UK and back in my apartment that the sexual arousal fires up again.
• I don’t go out much now as it feels so dangerous.
• I’ve started to wear my body cam as much as possible.
• I do try to go to the beach in the afternoon as there are a lot of tourists there and I believe this makes me relatively safer.
• Down at the Las Marinas beach, young men come up to me and make references to coffee at the Mena restaurant, or other parts of our conversation we’ve had that day.
• I wear my hiker’s camera on these outings.