We exchanged about 700 emails in a short time. Something, call it the universe or an angel or a ghost or the fact that I’m almost an empath, was feeding me stuff somehow that he apparently needed to hear.

He wrote that it’s not so much about being understood (my spelling checker wants to change “understood” into “kinderstoeltje”) but about being accepted. I couldn’t figure him out and the communication turned unpleasant. So he became the umptieth English person whose demeanour towards me was unpleasant. Depressing… But I was moving away anyway. I hadn’t been able to figure out Brits in general yet either and he mostly struck me as typically English.

Before the end of the year, I was sure I was dealing with a sadist. Within a year, 90% of my income had disappeared and, also, more and more nastiness had started happening. I bawled my eyes out repeatedly.

(And then he, his hacker brother and all the people they tricked, paid, asked or cajoled started turning my life into a nightmare.)

I think he also wrote that he wasn’t a supportive person, something along those lines. No idea what he meant. Well, egocentric nature, perhaps.

I think he also wrote that he wasn’t a supportive person, something along those lines. No idea what he meant. Well, egocentric nature, perhaps.

I think he also wrote that he wasn’t a supportive person, something along those lines. No idea what he meant. Well, egocentric nature, perhaps.

I think he also wrote that he wasn’t a supportive person, something along those lines. No idea what he meant. Well, egocentric nature, perhaps.

I met him three times – by appointment – because of his profession. I shook his hand when we met the first time and I’m pretty sure he offered and made me a cup of tea. He thought that I was much older than I actually was, said or wrote he was 18 months younger, Aries. He gave me a ride back to the train station.

Later

The person who was in my computer at the time indicated that he was like Eric Cartman in Southpark. Who on earth was that? What on earth did that mean?

Generous but socially clumsy?

I had no idea what to do with that.

I’ve later had other hints that pointed in that direction.

He called Le petit prince magic.

But there wasn’t anyone in my life. I was lock ed away in an electronic cage. Not allowed to interact with others.

I don’t hate him. He needs to learn how to be. He thinks he needs my permission to be. He doesn’t.

He thinks he needs to force me to give him permission to be.

He needs to accept himself. 

He needs to accept himself.

Now can I please have my life back?

Continued efforts to trample me to death won’t bring him anything he needs. He and his brother need to let go of any incel – powered thinking and stop taking Le petit prince so literally and learn to embrace normal life instead. 

Women aren’t like thorny roses who need to be kept in complete isolation. (That’s how anything dies!) The way Antoine de Saint-Exupéry portrayed women comes across as contemptuous to me. It’s anything but realistic. It’s how some people keep dead animals or a crucifix.

Learn to embrace normal life instead.

Stop hacking people to death and punishing them for perceived wrongs such as sneezing and coughing or bleeding. People aren’t objects. They are human beings, just like you. They are alive. They are biological organisms. Not things to be controlled as if they are cars. Teaching people how to live in fear and then pushing people’s fear buttons and by contrast rewarding them in your Pavlovian ways when you feel they are being “good” may make you feel in control, dude, but it’s a show of weakness, not of strength.

To be flawed is to be human, dude.

When you hack an intelligent person to pieces, they will know that. You seem to think that you get to know their secret personality or whatever. The person will eventually go into survival mode and focus on fleeing but hide it from you, dude.