bok

they’re crazy. This was another one of my fears, that something like this
would happen to me.
I didn’t get a moments peace at work. To the people that approached me
because of the information provided by Mr. B I said that it wasn’t true and
then I told them to leave me be. I felt my head was going to explode. I
jumped like a rabbit at the least bit of noise. I yearned those days that I
would peacefully lay in my hammock at the Tamarindo.
If I ever regretted something it was agreeing to with Mr. B to meet with the
editor. After giving it much thought I gave Mr. Martín some of the
negatives. My brother Charlie had sent them to me the same way I had.
The computer analysis of the negatives didn’t surprise. The pictures were
definitively real. There were no tricks of any kind. I was given back my
negatives and these were hidden.
Mr. Martín introduced me to several people who had had similar
experiences to mine. Though at first I didn’t want to meet them, I later
thought that this might be helpful with my nightmares. It actually did help
because now I didn’t feel so alone. But it wasn’t until I met someone in
particular that I really got better.
In regards to the pictures and my experience Mr. Martín recommended I go
public with it through the various media and forms of communication. Mr.
B also insisted I do so but I still wasn’t prepared for that. They told me that
my evidence without a doubt demonstrated that something was going on
and that the governments were covering it up. They also said there was no
reason for me to care about people calling me a liar or crazy because I had
the results of photographic analysis. They added that humanity had a right
89