A heavy fog descends over the deep holler where my cabin sits. I can’t really see to the bottom for all the fog. The trees that are visible form a wall of dark vertical lines on a light grey background. I turn on the radio for some music now that my computer has been …MOAR!
Forgotten times, just a blur in the periphery. I think what I learned is not to trust people, not to trust even myself, really. I taught myself, really. Shit, where is this going? …MOAR!
I wake up with too many nightmares clouding my thought. I crack open a Mexican Coke and drink down that real sugar. I was in college again, lost in a dorm, assaulted by “bros,” manipulated into sexual humiliation by lesbians. I can’t go to work today. I go to Anonymous. In the middle of …MOAR!
I wake up and go straight to the computer. I always go straight to the computer. It’s my only source for information aside from paperbacks. Call me an addict, but at least it’s not television.
No e-mails, no facebooks, not even any interesting news. I take a shit, but don’t shower and forget to brush …MOAR!
Today, “dox” were dropped on the wrong John Rubenstein. In lay-speak that means the e-mail address, home address, and home phone number of John Rubenstein from Backtrace Security was published. …MOAR!
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