I write this blog for protection. For you to be my witness. I know it may seem one sided but I have no reason to lie to you. Honestly, the contents of this blog are not made up and any resemblance to persons alive is INTENTIONAL!
On September 13th 2012, I wrote this status update on Facebook:
- Dear God,
Can I safely assume that I am close to or at the limit for “Crazy/Mentally Unstable” people that you would bring into my life? Because I am pleading the Blood a little too often these days!
Stefan (not Stefforn)
I had written it at that time because out of the blue someone who I barely knew had approached me to lend them $50,000 to buy a car. This person was not employed; they weren’t a relative or close friend. I barely knew them. Yet they insisted that I was the best person to help them because all they needed was someone to believe in them. Err and you chose ME?
When this offer was rejected, they came back a day later and asked for $1200 to do a personal training course. By this time I was flipping out as I could not understand why this person was harassing me. Anyway, after telling them what they would have to do for the $1,200.00, the calls stopped coming.
Yes I know I could’ve just told them no and left it there but if “NO!” didn’t work for $50,000, I needed something extreme that didn’t involve cursing to remove this potential parasite from my phone.
But that’s not the main story.
I have someone that has been trying to rekindle a “friendship” we had when I think Noor Hassanali was President. It wasn’t much of a friendship in the first place and due to some dodgy behaviour on her part, I chose to ignore her (as I do with most people).
Over the last few months, she has started calling my phone (I would not answer the call), texting me (intermittent text responses) and now she has resorted to sending me messages via mail. No not email, but mail!
Can I point out that she knows where I live (I have NEVER invited her in or showed her where I live)? A month ago she left an envelope with my landlady who handed it to me one afternoon after I had just parked my car. (Envelope shown below)
I never opened it. I have no intention of looking at its contents.
On Saturday 15th September, while I was driving out of the garage, my landlady told me that there was mail in the box for me and that she preferred not to touch it. I laughed when she said it but when I looked at the package, I understood why.
The package was placed in a Ziploc bag and to the front there was what appeared to be a piece of bush wrapped in paper with writing on the paper.
I don’t know about you, but my granny’s voice kicked in my head and said “Lambkin, dat bitch wah kill yuh!”
So here I am. Confused, slightly scared and totally thinking about moving.
I find myself, more than I used to before, praying. Not only praying but pleading “the Blood of Jesus” on my life and asking for protection from these unseen forces that seem to be bringing to “crazies” into my realm.
I know what you are thinking. I must have done something to encourage these people because no one would just opt to do stuff like that without some catalyst.
The crazy guy was the bad personal trainer that I had for all of two months who barely showed up for my sessions and always had an excuse why he couldn’t be there. Turns out it was because he was either training someone else or drinking with friends. He said he felt that I looked like a trustworthy person and he needed someone to believe in him.
He need to believe in Jesus because “In God We trust. Others Pay”
The second person is….not a friend. Not someone I was intimate with and it isn’t even someone that I brushed up against even suggestively. As far as I can remember I NEVER touched her.
She had sent me a text on July 10th, out of the blue, saying:
“Want 2 get married and stay married unlike your parents or mine?! Start talking…shout….scream if u need, only say how u truly feel”
Apparently I said nothing and will still continue to say nothing.
There was a text in French as well but I wasn’t bothering to translate it and I deleted that madness as if it was a penis enlargement email.
I was advised that I should burn the letters or just throw them away. A guy in work told me to escort said letters to the nearest police station and report them as evidence of harassment. He believes if I report it first, it would go along way into saving my backside should she trip out and claim abuse later on.
I prefer to move. Sounds like the coward’s way out but this aint no Lifetime/BET movie where we rise above whatever. This certainly will not end with anyone dead on my floor and police lights blazing over the place and me wrapped in blanket sitting at the back of the ambulance. Nope, that stuff only happens in movies. I need to protect my black ass.
What do you think?