My Life in a Story

“She had a heart attack?”

“What happened? She appeared so healthy. I don’t understand.”

That’s the way my life will end. Years of struggling to understand all the consistent problems take a lot of mind work. No doubt hard on a human heart.

It’s been made quite apparent there are people who can hack basically anything they want to, if they decide to do so. My job has been to figure out “Why was I chosen?” I don’t have a wide circle of enemies whom I betrayed.

I’ve chosen to put my family first. My two daughters, two grandsons, and son-in-law’s. I do not date or intend on adding anyone else. Because “time” has been stolen from them already, I’m not planning on sharing my family time with another.

I am a “good catch.” This I know. That makes everything feel better for me. Some geek tribe thought they’d perform unnatural hacks, inadvertently forcing me to succumb to despair.

Though bellyaching over spilled milk isn’t my forte.

I know I’m lucky. That too, is apparent. As no one, hacks fat ugly people who lay around waiting on free help. No one will ever waste time hacking a crackhead, alcoholic, or addict, either.

Hackers go for people whose life is better than their own. They want to ruin the lives of attractive, healthy people, who are educated. Because they’re jealous of something this individual has.

Anyway, just this week I’ve overcome a handful of almost serious consequences. But on a good note the multi-car wreck I was involved in, on August fourteenth twenty-twenty has reached a decision that I was not at fault.

I already knew the answer, but some higher-up needed to legally declare my innocence. In doing so, I fulfilled my part by gathering my medical bills for reimbursement. After almost nine months of having no transportation, I’m moving forward.

In the background, I’ve got some work to do to patch some stuff up. Those are things I shouldn’t have to do, but I don’t have a choice.

Overall, I feel good. But I feel I’ve had too much on my plate, if you will. Can I keep moving forward to a healthy future with a ton of unfortunate intentional incidences lingering? Is my heart muscle being destroyed by an invisible hacker with icy cold veins and vindictive jealous nature?

I think the invisibleness is part of the process. Keep the victim in a trance-like state. Make the victim wonder who the perpetrator is. Which sounds like a pure evil plan designed by a psychopathic Neanderthal who is dangerous to the public.

I’ve got a lot to say, when I get my turn to talk. Right now, I’m suppressed into allowing myself to be a victim with no way out. The walls are blocked. I hope I’ll outlive the pack of Neanderthals. I hope I’ll get an opportunity to throw their nonsensical bullshit right back at them.

But if not, I’ll take each day and each can of Azzholism as it comes.

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