To whom it may finally concern,

I’m not even sure how to start this off. I already wrote a book about this but I might just throw it away. It seems “no one cares.” And I’m told a hundred times a day. Until I don’t care either. For them or about myself anymore. How does one explain the “feeling” of harassment? I walk outside in busy Chinatown, Honolulu and every single person is looking at me. The feeling of embarrassment, confusion and always be anger. The ever present total rage at the way I am treated. But they all, there’s 900,000 people in Honolulu, they all say it’s only a joke. For four years?

I keep waiting for the punchline. Which will never come. What does come are the threats. I have been told a thousand times that someone will kill me. Twice as many people tell me that I should do it myself. And I would if I didn’t have a son and a daughter I haven’t seen in years…and want to again. I have tried. Imagined it so many times. I try and tell someone. “It’s all in your head, Nate.” As they call out my name from a block away and look the other way.

Harassment is felt. It can’t be discribed. Take a walk with me. Just a few blocks. Count the spitters, the coughers, the teeth suckers. All of them. All the citizens of this state got a memo saying ” do any and every thing to make Nate angry. He almost smiled a day ago and we can’t have that. We want him dead. No smiling!” Police, Sheriff’s Department, even FBI, State Department even the CIA. I have begged for help from everyone. But nuts don’t need help. Or at least they don’t get any. Not in Hawaii. All my calls, texts, emails…I never know for sure if they are from the real people or not. Most aren’t.

Here’s a good one.. .passed along to me… my 14 year old daughter had a sex change and she was pissed at me for not accepting it and calling her a him. All these and a billion more… rolled all up in a ball. Put on a plate and served or more accurately, shoved in my face with a laugh at my tears.

“How are you doing today, Nate?”

“Horrible”

“That’s good.”

I’m am now reaching out beyond this island. There’s no help for me here. I am hoping… and I may even start to pray… that someone, somewhere will realize how desperate and hopeless I am. And with a realization maybe, just maybe I won’t have to wake up and wish I didn’t. I like life. Just not mine. Not now. Maybe never again. And never may be soon. I hope so at least.

I’m too tired.