Sylvanna Devlin

Not a bone in my body hated. I didn’t understand it. Didn’t really want to. I loved everyone and everything and that was to my detriment.

I had experienced a fleeting moment before. A defensive spell that were the only words I could weave to be left alone by my abusive ex spouse.

In a battle for my very soul.

Now another has earned her permanent spot as someone I hate.

It’s a survival mechanism, in this form.

So let’s separate it from bigotry and bad behavior. Feeling an emotion is not enough of a cause for violence, or harassment.

I hate the woman responsible for the collapse of my ear canal – and the mutilation of my genitalia, all because she wanted to “see what I would do.” And that’s a survival mechanism.

Stay the fuck away from her and the people she manipulates and controls into her bullshit.

She toys with people and calls it writing.

When you’re a real writer characters show up in your head and do what they want. Plot is characters going against each other’s desires. Not a long story of suffering.

Writers have read at some point. A lot. We chewed through books. We read the advice of writers we admired and some we didn’t know but had good ideas we could recognize.

It takes work and practice to get through the “copycat” phase that has you sounding like everyone else – anyone you’re reading at the time.

It takes work and patience to persevere long enough to get confident in your ability to work- and even then there may be times you doubt you ever write again.

Practice, Patience, Perseverance.

Few can claim to have written under the kind of psychological duress my stalker put me through. Just to see what I would do!

So it’s worth mentioning the difference between a story- an endless collection of meaningless events – and a plot that has conflict and resolution, characters struggling and fighting to overcome an obstacle there for a reason.

The odyssey is more a story than the novel. The first accessible novel (if we’re not counting an attempt by an unknown woman in the 12th century) was Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein. The birth of the horror genre and the accessible modern novel. In 1816 – published in 1818.

Even Emily Brontë – famous for her work and her place in history, published her work after Mary Shelly produced hers.

The modern novel exists because a woman wrote one.

And that tends to get lost to history.

The difference is plot. Before that we had stories. And what has happened to me is more a story – at least by actions performed by others.

Favors for fivers to wound and intrigue and produce nothing of literary value.

Until I produce a story of overcoming cumulative abuse and the kind of circumstances I have been put through because someone thought she could pay her way not practice. Then I will write nonfiction with the undulating style of a novel. But I’m of the few who can without actually fictionalizing it.

I am a revolutionary writer and her jealousy is dangerous.

She has money and a gui. But the odyssey she has put me through is a more series of challenges than anything that the police could grip onto.

It seemed meaningless and pointless.

Was this terrorism on a world famous mathematicians daughter? Was this to see if she could so trash someone who was well liked and respected before that bitch got going?

Was it to see how long before anyone listened to the truth while she tortured and tormented me?

You knew it was happening.

And gaslighted me out of the truth.

Lied to the American public.

And no newspaper picked me up.

So citizen journalists wrote their heavily biased versions of the few morsels she fed them.

No one seemed to have the truth but the government.

And they let it happen.

Why would you help her hurt me? What financial hold does she have on America than you think it’s okay to do this to someone?

She hacked – well paid for hacking. She created a group project of how to torment me and wove lies of how I “deserved” it – like anyone does. Except maybe her, now. If you can find her.

You made me battle just to exist then tried to “cancel” me when that became inconvenient. Your boyfriend hacking into all my backups to destroy them before my very eyes. Suicide attempt two, the final version on it’s way.

How often do you use sex as a weapon honey? I sure hope you’re fucking worth it.

Nahhhh no one is.

Not the soul destroying crap you’ve had others do to me. Not the potential cost of a life. Not again. You make murderers out of hackers you manipulative bitch.

Too right I hate you.

It’s a survival mechanism. Loving everyone put a target on my back. Learning to hate a woman so personally despicable took about four years.

But I have now. And I’m comfortable with it. Because hate does not mar the soul unless acted upon.

You can have your feelings – and they matter. Motivation matters. But it is your behavior everyone responds to.

They may listen to lies of what you have done. They may have no patience for the results of baiting. If reduced to a frothing madness after 72 hours of torment it’s a miracle to have any self control left.

But that’s what it took isn’t it?

I don’t drink or do drugs. You can’t hook me on anything. And as much as I would like my muscles to be eased my ligaments won’t hold the joints together- it’s potentially fatal.

So fibromyalgia pain has to be handled differently. Thanks to Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, EDS hyper mobility. Pain is something I just have to live with.

It was brought on by an abusive ex who harassed me and tormented me trying to force me to lose control.

And he almost succeeded. And it would have been fatal for him. Stupid fuckwit.

Yes stupid exits. I see that now. And the danger they pose to the intelligent is quite high. Because they all think they’re the end all be all of what one can be capable of.

At least if she’s a woman.

So some stupid bitch put me through this and tried to condition me into “Simon says” control because she’s too stupid to understand two things:

Real, fictional characters don’t do or sound in a way entirely in your power. They show up in your head and you have to learn about them. With your fucking imagination.

And as for your pronouncements, real people are not to be treated like characters in a book. You stupid bitch.

Too right I hate you.

And as tempted as I am to go dark side because of it and show you real old world magic to tie you up and destroy you?

My hatred is an emotion not a behavior.

There’s a fucking difference.