Essentially this is what happened. A woman named 'Adelle Short' slowly insinuated herself into my life having contacted me through myspace first having seen a post on Sixtoo's myspace page. She was a buyer for HMV in the UK, had just broken up with Richard D. James (Aphex Twin) and based on her manner and physical beauty which was considerable I had no reason to doubt all this. I was extremely skeptical but she began to quickly profess that she loved me, that she was breaking it off with another very affluent man and over time began to talk about me moving to the UK to Cornwall England precisely to live with her. She also offered to marry me for legal reasons. She also wired me money in case people think something else. I wasn't running off to bang this broad - she presented herself as having a really troubled twenties with dealer boyfriends and her getting tossed in the middle of the night into the street- then she got into law as a result then HMV. She was in an increbly flawed individual and I fell in love with her because she was engaged in a sort of psychological warfare against me whose purpose was to have me fall for her. It was carefully crafted to fulfill my knight in shining armour to the rescue mentality (with recreational drug use, quiet spiritual contemplation in a surfing village in Cornwall and a house full of baccarat and herende miniatures). The relationship just naturally (or constructed actually) grew and we talked on the phone all the time but at some point I woke up in the middle of the night and realized she's a spy or not what she claims to be. She had 'broken it off' but via myspace which was very suspicious and would not talk via email or the phone - then I woke up one morning and all of her messages were gone from my inbox. Her myspace profile doesn't even exist anymore. I believe she was running a honeypot trap and may have worked for a foreign government or organzied crime. I am fearful that it was the latter. Sadly as fantastic as this all sounds - evil Bond girls, mafia etc. - it's all true. I was literally pursued by the mafia that related to some remarks I made on Stillepost but also some letters I wrote to the police and the Ontario Civilian Commission on Policing. I was beaten by the police and by mafiosa on more than one occasion. There must have been some motivation as to why they did this. On the evening of the 18th/19th I turned to Roger Leavens my oldest childhood friend who I had recently reconnected with at his Boombox studio (Trevor Coleman was there). I had gone to Lidia's house in the middle of the night I believe the night before worried she was being threatened as well - it turns out she was just being a selfish bitch. Lidia's heart was really broken by me when I told her that I was going to move to the UK and take a chance with 'Adelle'- Lidi was also just beginning to realize that she had been selfish all her life and 'Adelle' was five years my senior, highly intelligent and held out the promise of a life together and I'm at that age where I want to settle down. I wasn't going to shoplift the pooty,to use a Jerry Maguire reference, with Lidia after sadly only spending one very romantic weekend together. Even more sadly I cryed many tears over Lidia when I was in jail realizing when I got out she didn't want to have anything to do with me. How did I end up in jail? Roger as all of you have done presumed I was having a delusion about the mafia and police being after me. Within about an hour of leaving Roger's studio I was picked up by 51 Division cops and taken to Cherry Beach where I was severely beaten and left without socks, shoes or a wallet. I had been beaten by other 51 Div. cops two days prior and had tryed to report the assault at Toronto Police Headquarters, 51 Division and tryed to call 911 a number of times (the operators asked VERY suspicious questions). No one was going to believe me now as I was literally walking around barefoot and couldn't go to my family because they also believed I was having a mental health episode. I walked from Cherry Beach to York Mills and the 401 barefoot after a substantial beating hoping to hitch hike out of the province and save my life. I then realized I absolutely needed medical attention and made one final shot at calling 911 from a Coffeetime north of the 401. An ambulance and suspiciously a police supervisor showed up - I had police style logbooks on a harness under my clothing which is what the police and mafiosa' were trying to get a hold of. I then went to North York General after being practically carried to the ambulance. Then I waited for hours and something was suspicious at the hospital. The triage nurses were evasive and the admission duty nurse told me her name was "Polly Pocket" which was really alarming. I then resolved to leave putting on hospital booties and headed down on the bus to my families house where I was going to break in to get some jewellry to pawn to get out of the province. I took a shovel to the backdoor of my families Moore Park house and my stepfather and I had an altercation, I went to the second floor master bedroom stole three photos of my grandmother, some gold jewellry and a military knife I thought had gold inlay and put them in a pink purse. The police arrived and came up to the second floor guns drawn and asked me to lie down on the ground and put my hands behind my back - I put the purse down and did as they said saying 'I'm no threat, I'm no threat'. The four officers then jumped on my back and one choked me out so hard that he burst all the capillaries in my right eye. I was taken into custody at 53 Division and transferred the next night to a ghost jail that I am sure was 50 Division- a division that doesn't officially exist. Then I was taken to the Don my second or third night I was jumped by some inmates who broke my arm and a couple ribs. A code was called and the guards came in and rather than help me with medical help they then beat me further blackening both eyes and breaking my nose. I pissed out from the beatings and couldn't even walk they had to wheel me out in a chair. Then when out of sight of the inmates the captains took me out of the chair and dragged me down the hallway into a medical office where a captain named Baronet (or perhaps Baronette) kicked me full force in the rib over my heart breaking that as well. At this point I lost consciousness from the bloodloss and shock and had a seizure which thankfully caused them to evacuate me to St. Mikes where I woke up the next morning handcuffed to the bed in a massive amount of pain in my right arm as I'd had a second seizure with my broken arm straining against the cuffs. I am totally amnesiac for this day and a half and the transport back to the hospital from the subdural hematoma (blood clots on the brain). Back at the Don I was tortured for 15 days by being held in a medical segregation cell with the lights 24 hours a day. I endured a lot of psychological torture. I was in the Don from April 21 until June 13 and got out in the yard 4 times for 15 minutes a stretch. I got 1 hour of springtime. I assure you if this was about a mental health breakdown there is no way I would be able to recount this (and painfully relive it in the process) in such a fashion. I sense for all of the hatefulness and judgment some were actually concerned. I think if you're still thinking this is mental health related you should no I'm not pleading NCR (not criminally responsible) - I know exactly what I did and what my state of mind was. I just had no other choice as I saw it if I was going to get out of TO alive. I've since cooperated with Provincial and Federal authorities who have had undercover operatives in the prison population and staff looking out for me. There's a lot more to it all but I still have charges pending (B+E, Assault and theft under) which I'll plea to and have diverted along with the bogus charges of Resist Arrest, Carry Concealed Weapon (scissors in my pocket ) and Weapons Dangerous (the knife I was hoping to pawn). Laughably- the judge and my poor mom and lawyer laughed out loud at my bail hearing - they almost made staying away from shovels, scissors and knives into a bail condition. They've put me in transitional housing at Lawrence EEEEAAAST for now and I have strict reporting at City Hall all summer. So I'm stuck in TO and hoping to meet some new decent people. You'd sort of have to see me (or hell knowing me in the first place might help) in the flesh to appreciate. I've always been a really outgoing person and brash and arrogant I'm just very quiet and reserved and kind of shy now. I'm also getting over a massive series of traumas so it's understandable.