Sylvanna Devlin

Things had settled down.

I was writing less, admittedly. But I didn’t have as much to comment on and had gone into recovery mode.

Sigh. I’m being harassed by suggestions of what to say. Like the brainless behavior can be overlooked by copying my thoughts as I write them and pretending they’re hers. Proof hacking is still an issue.

As is harassment.

You know what? If they are the same ideas you are for some reason suddenly trying to write? Shut the fuck up. Because that would be quite a good thing, unlikely as it is.

I’m writing this. I don’t need assistance thank you. Stop your AI generated suggestions. I don’t fucking need them – while based on my work I’m still a better writer than any AI.

I should be after 30+ years. You’re not good at what you do after that long? Fucking quit.

My PTSD, like the kind you gave me, prevents me from maintaining a job not from writing well – when I can.

A blog post, I can manage. And if you don’t know why I would prefer not to use an AI to generate my content? Why I’m insulted that you would suggest it?

I can’t help you work hard enough to get good.

PTSD can’t be fixed by AI. Writing doesn’t work that way. No art does.

The system you’re using is based on my stolen work, anyway. Mine. Erase your fucking cache or whatever.

Yep. It’s too fucking early for harassment and bullying, tormenting and whatever we can call trying to call out suggestions of what to write.

I mean you need to be hooked into a system hooked into what write – so maybe log off the hacking based website.

You shouldn’t have access to my private world you bitch, and you can wait to read what I’ve sorted out like a fucking adult.

No one gave you permission to invade my privacy, not my father, and not me. So you can stop your gaslighting right now. Because my father never was in a position to give the say so anyway. Even if I had become a ward of the state he was never the boss of me.

Also he wouldn’t have. Give it up. It’s supposed to be over. Stop trying to drive a wedge between my father and myself.

You can’t make yourself feel better by shitting on me, I’m still not your punching bag and you’re still being an asshole.

Now. What is going on?

I was woken up by someone playing a clip of a man saying, “people were making fun of her. That’s all.”

Oh my god. A man said it. So it must be true? You’re supposed to be hen pecking bitches who don’t care what men think about me.

Oh you don’t like someone saying how “you’re supposed” to feel? What to say? What to do.

Yeah think about that for long enough to remember that’s part of the bullshit done to me.

Now go back and read my whole blog. Listen to the audio clip on gaslighting. Does that sound like you were “only making fun”?

Oh there’s that word abusers love “only”. You “only” what. Were only cruel and invasive? Dog piled with hurtful talking points you knew wounded but not why? You only joined a mob that swirled around me in a witch hunt for anyone to scapegoat? You were only an asshole because I was so different?

Yeah you weren’t “only” anything.

You need to sleep through the night, don’t do it with lies. But let’s talk about what it means to make fun of someone – wait that’s rude and obnoxious and bullying under a tamer name. Sardonic humor is still being an asshole,

There’s a difference between poking fun – starting a bantering exchange or gentle teasing and what you did. If you don’t know it? Don’t talk to anyone till you figure it out.

Then stop being an asshole.

Here’s that clip for you.

You are going to need a real therapist and be honest that you screwed up. But if you don’t admit what you’ve done to yourself? Maybe shut the fuck up.

Oh wait.

Apparently you seem to think you can manipulate and toy with someone to write a story.

Create reality, pay people to do what they do. Because you are too lazy and impatient to work at writing till you get good.

You use an AI based on my writing to describe what you put me through – with characters inspired by such but not actually real.

I am real.

I did survive all that.

And the last person who said “no one can” to me before you? Was the last to speak to me before a serious suicide attempt.

Do you want to knock me into suicide? Keep pushing and you might. It turns out no one can resist trying to kill themselves, eventually. Do you really want to be that right?

I survived all the bullshit she put me through and no one is stopping her. You’re all assholes.

The truth does indeed hurt.

My cat began to worry

This what everyone was afraid of? Someone paid a lot of money to “write” the Sylvanna books?

You all knew.

It is enough to push me closer to the edge and I was already suicidal.

A surgeon used a revolutionary procedure to save me.

But god returned my soul.

The events may have been crafted. And characters created instead of people. But my reactions and abilities are that genuine.

I am that pretty. I was that nice. I was that capable. I am that smart. And I am done.

Everything I said was a real reaction. I really did feel that way and think those things.

The only part about this?

Everything I did was true.

Even when events were crafted into being.

I am, still, and always have been that honest.

Careful editing may have made a bitch out of me. But that part isn’t of the truth.

I am and might again be the village sweetheart, not the wicked witch of the west.

No clearing your conscience with warped reality done through tricks and lies. You have been cruel and awful to a real person who only wanted to be a real sweetheart.

I am the only real part of this.

And I want to die.

Leave me be.

I am real.

And in case you missed it?

Fuck off with your talking points.

And so we are clear on “the AI?”

You didn’t have to program a thing but provide and existing AI with all my writing.

You’re still using an AI based on me, then. Aren’t you?

Clear your fucking cache you arseholes.

My voice is my own.