This is the largest incidence of plagiarism in modern history.
Every day is terrifying for a woman in my position. No one has ever thought of it from my perspective.
When someone asks him to own up to stealing all the funds of the words sold to other artists. He finds a standover man to help him or sabre rattle. He pays someone to make up a good story that is planted about him. He has had the same old game for decades.
He finds a bagman.
He finds a rapist.
He finds a stalker.
He finds a grudge holder.
He finds a curmudgeon.
The poor men who have talked about being forced.
The accuser is always uglier.
He is pretty, they are ugly.
He uses an Inoculator. There is no anti-venom for his powerful level of venom.
He finds someone who will send in the attack dogs media or otherwise.
There are no watchdogs.
It is an unregulated industry. “We want it this way.” “No love I don’t want your naturopath to come over and sort it out, I want it like this. Your words are mine.”
They blame it on the dead man now.
The dead man isn’t contactable.
The greatest fun he has in life is making fun of rape victims.
That is something else to hold over someone.
He loved that the gang rape made it easy to traumatise.
That’s how he stole the lyrics. It was like a button he could push.
When I arrived home he said, “Why are ok?” “Why are you ok every day now?” “We can’t have that love.” “People will know that I stole.”
I replied, “I don’t have people raping or abusing, harassing, belittling and denigrating me here.”
“We intended to crush you love.”
XXXXX
“I love it here.” I was going to have cocktails at the casino with my MBA group that night, at around 10pm. I had a European car, I live on a canal, life is wonderful. I had found my rightful place.”
“I’ve had to pretend that you were in love with me,” he said.
“No one is in love with you,” I said.
“Is that like the guy who you pretended wanted to have sex with you?”
“I can’t stand you, I don’t want to be near you, please stop calling me. Don’t send anyone to get in contact with me or check into what I am doing, where I am going or who I am seeing”
“No contact, please.”
XXXXx
So, they had to make it go back to the way it was in London.
The bagman said, “Ooh it’s taking such a long time, why.?”
“You can’t be like this now,” he said. “You are all fine.” Why aren’t you acting “all traumatised” all the time.
“What am I going to do now. I’ve already told everyone they are mine.”
No one of good standing wanted him when they found out.
Hollywood women aren’t allowed to say if he is rude, or if they know about the stealing.
“Remember if you dare tell anyone,” he hissed at me, “You won’t like what happens.”
“There are people here who are more important than you are.” “Everyone has more money than you do and they know more important people.”
“You can’t be with anyone powerful love. I’ve told everyone that you don’t have any friends in high places.”
“I am in a house surrounded by law students. What if I just walk downstairs to tell them.”
“They are all here, they are all downstairs.”
I told him that I was anti-drugs when in England and I wouldn’t be anywhere near drugs, nor the orgies. I didn’t want to be one of their party girls.
So he always finds someone who is jealous of wealthy people. Just like he was of the upper classes.
I told him that my family would try to exclude me from having money if he made up that lie. So he made it up.
So that’s what he set out to do. He made up the lie of lies. That I wasn’t a rape survivor, held under duress, a hostage, a woman who was being coercively controlled. That I wasn’t being abused every day. He told people falsely that I must have taken drugs there. I think he has been a false witness.
The bagmen knew that it was an issue for me. His jealousy of my wealth, education, and connections was palpable. He made this up.
He likes optics. He likes to make it “plain for people”. He likes the old traditional way of media when no one could take him down on X. We only need one “Truth.” We can have what happened or how ugly she is on the internet. “The truth can’t set you free.” The truth won’t be changed to make him innocent.
It must have come from the girls who did the orgies. They told everyone at school, falsely, along with defamation that has cost me millions, along with other egregious claims that “She took drugs in England.”
Someone called me a year or two ago from school. She laughed saying, “Aw you took drugs in England.” How egregious. I have now pointed out I sue people who say that now, but not that person. If that claim or others have cost me money, it’s got to come from somewhere.
It’s grand larcenous behaviour.
Only the girls with bad bodies did the orgies.
Only the girls who were ignored or unpopular at school did the orgies.
The Mosman, Toorak, Dural women, no. Nor did they want any women from Bowral, Neutral Bay, Paddington, or anyone whose father was a politician, who was a part of the A List international celebrity world. No one with a law-making background, no police. I could rattle off the big Hollywood names and the wealthy and the powerful. He just shut it down when I did. He told the A List friend of the Naturopath egregious lies about me. Then he told the A Lister not to be friends with and not to trust her. The girl from Abbotsleigh who brought the relative of an Oscar winner over to our Cliff Avenue Apartment. The Naturopath, who was prescribing natural treatments for people, there was a hall of fame on her wall. The family I knew well, who used to take me to Bondi, in their van who owned that recording studio. They helped me choose my first electric guitar. An Ibanez, dark polished wood. It was almost too heavy for a girl. I still have it. I was better at piano, I had good hands, and played arias. Every week was guitar, piano, tennis. Private art lessons, riding lessons and swimming lesson at home on our estate. Then there was dancing 3 times per week, tap dancing, private drama and improv lessons, a little bit of tutoring, Sunday School, Fellowship, GFS, and choir. The girls who had father’s who were in parliament. No, thanks love, they won’t help, they won’t do the orgies.
He said to me, “Who was in your street growing up.”
I said, “Who was in your street growing up?”
He asked again so I said. “Why do you want to know buddy?”
“Do you always ask the women you are around who lived in the street they grew up in?”
He said, “Who was in your street growing up, love.”
My naturopath had taught me to say when I didn’t want to answer a question.
“Say: Why do you want to know?” “You don’t have to answer every question you are asked.”
He pressured me and I eventually told him. Then he said, “My information is to the contrary. I am going to ignore it.”
Then it was declared Open Season. Another women she told me, because we harassed you out of business and sabotaged your previous brand, make the logo of this one crosshairs and a target. She met with me at New Farm.
Only the lotto winner from Rooty Hill who had moved to Dural and the girl from a nondescript suburb who wanted to marry, “A rich man” were “Up for it.” The school racists. They didn’t do any of those activities. True to their boasts in England, they did just two months of karate. That’s it. I asked why, if they had won the lotto, why wasn’t she doing everything a Dural girl usually does. All the Eisteddfods and exams and such. I would have committed suicide if I did those orgies.
My father invested in movies when I was at high school, he wanted to move across into the business of managing bands, and entertainment, he was a patron of the arts and sent someone on scholarship to the London School of Music. I told him that. He said he would be taking everything, and wouldn’t let me work in the Australian industry “or everyone would know”, I couldn’t write lyrics anywhere for anyone. “Otherwise they will know that I didn’t write the ones I am selling.”
No one would date them at high school. They were regarded to be embarrassing, vulgar, a little odd. They tried to turn the school into a hotbed of racism. They had grudges, they thought it wasn’t fair that they weren’t popular. Christians had no time for them. They needed to work on their hypersexuality elsewhere. They were knocked back publicly, every day. It was spectacularly funny to watch. To have the popular boys laugh at them, and their offers of easy sex. They simply couldn’t give it away. Nobody wanted it like that. You would be tainted by them if you touched them. It was a forever mark.
They all ended up with Epstein Barr. From the girls with the ugly bodies. The fit girls, the ones who worked out, the hot bodies, the rock and roll bodies, they don’t let men like that touch them in an environment like that. They are a cut above. That is a taking away of bright futures. It was for the girls who don’t have bright futures or good bodies. One of them brought an old girlfriend along who was plus size too. You need a woman who is a size 20 at an orgy. The sex slave wasn’t at the orgies.
You can dance on my grave all you like. I won’t tap dance for you.
They liked the louche, the lowly, the sloppy, the uneducated. They liked sloppy seconds. “The women with few other options.” I wasn’t was of those.
I tried to educate my way out of the situation studying PR, Global Media, Persuasive Communication and Journalism. It’s tough to explain seeing through the veneer of celebrity Hollywood teeth.
He said he was stealing lyrics so he could be knighted one day. It was all for his investiture, so he could be a person who is respected. He wanted to be like the other guys, and to marry a Lady, he said.
On my death, 1000 voice diaries made over years will be bequeathed to someone. My friends all have the unlock code. I make them on days I see someone who can verify, a doctor, a therapist, on camera.
He said to me, that I wasn’t permitted to meet Clive James. I loved reading Clive James, I read all his books. I like the books on his time at Sydney University. He said he would be meeting Clive James instead. He is now considered to be literati. Everyone applauded him. What a surprise. “What a clever young lad.” He is a rarity, so talented. “And he hasn’t even finished school.”