Hey, Y’all —
This isn’t my first donkey ride. Some nefarious souls are truly bored and like to change my passwords and hijack accounts with Russian software. Oh, also, they’re evil. They delete pictures as if deleting them takes away the value of the memory. I believe they try to steal my joy because they are incapable of creating their own. But they’re mostly annoying because they try to steal my words. Feel free to correct me, M — , but I can’t help but wonder if they believe hijacking my blogs is the same as taking my words; the same as shutting me the f*&k up. Their malware has eaten through something around 6 computers and I don’t know how many phones. After six years of this, I do have to admit it’s becoming tedious. I’m not that interesting. So, when they take such a great interest in little ol’ me, I worry about their mental stability. The problem is, they know what they do in the dark. They know what they do amongst their own kind behind half-open doors. They know which pictures are theirs and where they are posted. They also know that so do I. They know that as long as they leave a trail, I will follow. Like I said, I’m not that interesting. I feel like having a hobby is good for me. Good for the soul, as people who are nothing like them would say.
I’m left to believe they think taking my blogs, deleting my posts, vandalizing my car, infecting my network with Trojan worms, putting me under almost constant DOS and MITM attacks, instigating poorly designed phishing adventures, entering my home without even saying hello is going to scare me into not being me. What they clearly have not done before is to anger an old Asian lady. They have now. Have they ever seen even one Kung Fu movie? Because if you take only one thing away after watching a Chinese movie, you should know we will die before we let you win. I think it has to do with some sort of epigenetic factor.
The words I choose to share were given to me. They are a gift that I know comes from the love of a child I once knew. They cannot be taken. Not the words, and not the love. I will use them as I see fit. I will use them when I see fit. I will use them for longer than I can speak them. I will write them in sand and snow. I will mow words into strangers’ lawns. And no one will stop me because I’m the harmless crazy lady who lives down the street with that old dog. Come on, neighbors. Am I right or am I right?
You can take all the words you want, “M — .” I guarantee that no one in my family, born or chosen, will ever deny me paper and my favorite pen. Setting me up to look crazy in front of all five people you could gather from the almost eight billion available to you, was the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. Except for the Chewbacca pillowcase. (Shout out to Mom!) Now I can do pretty much any screwball thing I care to do. “She’s a little…you know…She doesn’t mean anything by it.”
Please keep stealing my words. It makes room for more.
