THE GLOBAL BILDERBERG MAGAZIN VIII

I am leaving the toxic orbit of Bilderberg so I can breathe freely. So I can walk down a side street without being followed by plainclothes policemen. I'm tired of men in the lobby, men on the stairs, the same men in different doorways, on different corners wherever I go. Cars pulling away from the kerb when I approach. The same cars, the same feelings. I'm tired of complaining at the station. I've complained three times now, and the final time turned nasty. They denied outright I was being followed. "This is an idea in your mind!" I showed them a photo I took today, when I took my tail on a looping stroll through the hills, waited round a corner, and snapped him unawares. They're not very good at this, but that just makes it worse. If they were a bit subtler I could pretend they weren't there.