by Kiko Matsing
Wikileak’s Julian Assange’s email to a 19 year-old girl during college (he was 33 at the time):
6/4/2004: Our intimacy seems like the memory of a strange dream to me. A dream that probably would not translate to the real world, but this was never my desire. There was something unusual about our interaction. It is almost as if I had scripted it and left my fingerprints in the ink. I’m not concerned with your messy reality. I don’t want to see it and I confess I could not place you in mine. But I still want to see you in insolation [sic]. I am unconcerned with the context since time and your silence has made me philosophical; but when I first wrote the heat of your breast pressed against me was still vivid in my mind.
Our intimacy seems like the memory of a strange dream to me… the heat of your breast pressed against me… Ugh. What a creep!
After the woman repeatedly rebuffs Assange’s persistent and increasingly stalker-like come-on’s, e.g., he obtained her phone number, car make and license plate, he finally snaps back:
13/4/2004: A man feels that which is soft, warm and yielding in his arms must also be in other circumstance. But like Maugham’s Mirriam you are hare above the neck; voice salted and manner typical of your class when not trying to impress. Your response to my entirely well intentioned amusement was the understanding and empathy of the committed solipsist. You pulled a tiny petal off my world just when I thought you were to add one but all around is the meadow, where I shall again dance and skip and sing till some fool girl should brush my wing.
Around is the meadow, where I shall again dance and skip and sing… Hahaha. Is this guy for real?
What a baby!
As they say: what goes around…