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Prang

Now I have a criminal record and the police are adamant I am the British equivalent of Pablo Escobar; my vocabulary has obviously had to expand somewhat. The definition of “Prang” according to urbandictionary.com, is “to be paranoid or anxious”. I am becoming increasingly prang with each day that passes. Specifically with regards to the warrant out for my arrest, and the dawning realisation that I’m still on bail in relation to the money laundering, intent to supply and concern in the supply of class-A drugs. I conveniently forgot about that one. An individual should not be on police bail for longer than 3 months. To extend it any longer requires a bloody good reason. So when it was extended a further 3 months- six months in total- I didn’t know whether to be reassured or absolutely terrified. I have yet to reach a conclusion. However, the point I am trying to make, is that I categorically cannot go AWOL on the day I have to answer bail. Which means shit is well and truly going to hit the fan when I turn up having outrun a warrant for 6 months or so. My immediate concern is why I have not been arrested by now. I have been linked to a particular address for some time and I have made cash withdrawals, purchases, and reservations using my debit card; of which can easily be located and my phone has been hooked up to WiFi which has an IP address that can provide detailed coordinates of my location too. An enthusiastic teenage nerd could track me down in minutes. So why haven’t the police done so? It’s one of those situations in life with no grey area. It could either turn out very very bad, or go horribly horribly wrong. The two potential outcomes are;

1. The police realise I am not a child grooming, money laundering drug Don, and have come to terms with the fact that I was an unwilling victim of circumstance. I had no part to play in any criminal activity, did my utmost to reach out for help and the questions they seem utterly baffled by; have very simple answers. Which can all be explained and clarified. 2. The police remain convinced I am the British equivalent of Pablo Escobar, and charge me with an array of extremely serious crimes- resulting in a lengthy prison sentence. The maximum penalty being a life sentence. Don’t be fooled by the seemingly positive outcome to situation number one. Sod’s Law dictates that; (a) I won’t even finish my sigh of relief knowing the whole ordeal is over before being arrested again. (b) Immediately after signing the tenancy agreement to my next home, the door will get knocked off it’s hinges as the police execute another drug raid. I’m not remotely exaggerating. My main concern is that I have bugger all in the way of evidence to prove what I’m saying is true. The police informed me that none of my submissions to Crimestoppers would be able to be traced. I was told by the IOPC that this blog is insignificant. The handful of witnesses who saw what was happening are flakey, perceived as unreliable and untrustworthy, and have no interest in fighting my corner. Concern and conspiracy charges mean the police technically don’t need any evidence to support their accusations. It’s quite literally my word against theirs. Against a police force who not just hold a grudge towards me, but have a full blown vendetta against me too- intent on destroying my life as a form of revenge. Before my last police interview, my solicitor told me to go “no comment”. My natural instinct was to be willing, cooperative and honest. I felt awkward, uncomfortable and cuntish answering “no comment” to every question. However, it quickly dawned on me in the interview room as to the reason for his advice. I had legitimate and genuine explanations for every question I was asked. Unfortunately, I had jack shit to back up my answers. How could I prove that the multiple bank accounts opened, were failed attempts to stop others controlling my finances. How could I prove that I wasn’t grooming children to supply drugs, when I had two young teenage boys under my care and living in my home? How could I prove that my previous flat mate had been so nasty, I had been forced to spend a large majority of my tenancy in hotel rooms to avoid him. How could I prove that I wasn’t being paid for the use of my home in drugs, when I’m a drug addict with drug dealers occupying my property. How could I verify that the source of my income was a result of selling my gash for cash, not from participating in criminal activity. It would be a complete impossibility to prove entry to my property was gained forcefully, not voluntarily. Aside from different vocabulary, there’s no way of proving some text messages sent from my phone were not sent by me. I have no evidence to verify that I wasn’t money laundering, but instead, being severely financially exploited. Anyway, I’m going to quit writing and post this because it’s been sat in my drafts folder for far too long.

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