Considerable Progress Maintained

👸Forgive me, for I need to discuss my harassers again. I don’t mean to bring the universe down on purpose, but they are presenting as mentally unwell. I think I am on their medication. For years I thought I was the unlucky one by having to listen to their repetitive hassle: Their inexplicable obsession of my mental processes appears to be far worse however.

I feel like the guilty party all of a sudden.

Can’t they turn me off or something? They seriously need to pull the plug when it comes to eavesdropping on my thoughts. By the recent kip of them, it isn’t doing them any good whatsoever, only rising their stewing funky hatred of me (because I won’t shut up), causing them to trip over one another in order to get a word in (which I’ve heard a thousand times), and generally being too incomprehensibly small and insignificant to adequately describe.

I feel big today. Probably small tomorrow (they always come back at me with something), but large and in charge at the moment.

Having plenty of amusing ideas, talking healthily to myself, and sneaking a few unhindered images onto my visual cortex without their pesky thought deletion tactics going on. In short, I’m able to (partially) think freely again. This totally and utterly sends them into a frenzy. They want me on the mattress wiped out cognitively, so they can reiterate how much they dislike having to analyse my finger motions twenty four hours of the day. Only joking, they are not that honest.

"Every time they open their mouths exposes another dirty lie."

I always half-believed they were having the time of their lives torturing me. By simply refusing to feed their narcissistic supply of attention, living my own life, and delighting in my discovery of peace and joy, it is now me who is torturing them. They hate me because I don’t hate them. They don’t leave me alone because they cannot bear to be with themselves for a single moment. They they they they they…

Why do I even bother giving them this airtime? Perhaps dealing with them once and for all will enable me to lock them in a cupboard and finally forget about them.

Only better thing than a cupboard is the front page of a newspaper.

I don’t think they fear exposure, or even losing me. I think they dread their terrible vulnerability and fragility being made known to those who they have deceived into respecting them with steadfast devotion through a reign of false power obtained through lies and secrecy over the years. They sometimes brag about kidnapping people. I regularly offer them all a fist fight straightener on my lawn any time, they can even bring backup and weapons if they want, because I just ain’t scared of them anymore. Mainly because I can see right through them. They make themselves out to be blood-letting monsters, but they are just bored emotional vampires who need someone else down in the dumps to feel moderately more less miserable about themselves.

A very small part of me pities them. I sure would hate to be one of ’em.

I think of myself as a master story teller, but even I’m not as infatuated with me as they are with me.

Would you want to spend eternity with someone you hate? It makes not a scrap of sense to anyone. Yet they always declare eternal bandwidth with me. Whatever the hell bandwidth means. Isn't it something to do with radios?

I refute them. I deny them. I reject them.

Yet I do not hate them.

REST IN PEICES, EVIL PERP.