Salisa lohavittayavikant

She asked [the security guard] whether when I left I had a bag with me. The guard said he didn’t remember that (I am then reminded that this was the day I went to the mall with no backpack or electronics and still got intercepted). Por said to call her when I return home no matter how late. They then called her at half-past nine in the evening. I am then also reminded that this was the day I saw two movies almost back-to-back and the second one ran late into the night that I had to exit the mall via the back-entrance service elevator (I took the opportunity to wander into the emptied-out parking lot and not only did it seem surveillance-free – I do my own reconnoitering however pointless it seems at this point – but it was vaguely evocative of that low-budget stalker horror called “P2” starring the very charismatic Rachel Nichols). After I returned home that night I messaged Anton, “I’m okay. Not going anywhere. I hope you are too.” I mean who knew if Anton had personally arranged for the check-in. It could be local SVR because my death would end up sparking another crisis (I think the young man who approached me was a trained operative) but nevertheless I thanked him for it.

— Salisa, Journal: August 17th, 2025