• I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    I’ve been asleep all day, vaguely hearing Sonnikson have a conversation with an AI programmed after me. My language patterns, my history, my former voice. If it weren’t auditory they would be using all my stolen and returned pictures – so I can’t prove he took them.

    They’re even yelling over me now as I silently type. Who cares what because I am being wrapped up by his reality abuse. People think they’re listening to us argue. It would be a convenient solution if it wasn’t so public.

    This is a national emergency – and I can’t tell you why. But his goal to erase me includes hacking the social security database and immigration records. I’ve warned about the dangers too long to put up with this a moment longer. But oh, no. He’s created so many false reports in my name no one is listening – and now they have my voice.

    America fix your shit.

    He’s even trying to control my dreams and induce false visions so the real god (you know Allah) can’t get through.

    America seriously fix your shit because I’m still alive because Allah wants a book and this is beginning to look like a hate crime.

    I’m converting to the other hand of god, Greek Orthodox. But Allah introduced himself as Allah and thus that’s how I pray.

    He, of the oh so spiritual source, has no respect for god. Or anyone really. He would rather kill me then back down. America fix your shit.

    This is how I feel sleeping all day’s overhearing assholes fight with a robot based on me.
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    My most painful darkest secret is now on display so I guess 30 years later I’m fucking commenting.

    I will never do that again.

    But it’s not my choice to make for other women.

    Pro choice is not pro abolition.

    Assholes.

    Glasses included for scale.
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    Reality abuse creates reality, gaslighting changes it.

    On its own it is creating fiction and passing it off as fact that is convincing enough, or through such numerous falsehoods no better term exists. Repeat a lie enough times and after a while no one stops to wonder why, and the lie is believed.

    It works by creating “grooves” in your brain that changes your very thinking patterns. This is why the latter method is so dangerous. Lies are not harmless.

    Can an AI based on a person be used to commit crimes? You bet it can. It was done to me. They stole decades of iterations from my writing, my likeness, my voice, and my history to create a false “Sylvanna” chatbot.

    People have fallen for the romantic tale woven by my words at someone else command. The AI is based on a romance game primarily – but one obsessed with learning and education.

    When a lifelike response was required I was prodded and poked into snapping or replying. I don’t know to whom about what.

    But you bet I can be listened in on, my everything tracked, reality around me tested and bent so that even the walls lie. If it’s mediated? It can be faked.

    The money involved is immense because it’s a handy tool for a lot of scammers, phishers, game makers, etc. Meanwhile the flesh version is inconvenient.

    So I’m targeted by a misinformation campaign like no other. How do you know you’re listening to the real one? Well right now you’re not. I’m fucking busy.

    I don’t actually talk much anymore and thanks to damaged vocal cords my voice is changing anyway. Since my suicide attempt in July I’ve been different in person. One would have to be. But my voice hasn’t worked the same way for months.

    Chances are highly likely you’re not listening to me.

    And to think, that’s why I killed myself.

    That’s actually me

  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    I told my sister I’d fall asleep and did mid conversation!

    Oh and apparently the new method for phishing is creating and AI and posing as someone familiar.

    Well that explains a lot. I rather wondered why the world was suddenly full of assholes. Who knows who that AI has been chatting with!

    Personally I find AIs so irritating to talk to I’d be permanently snappy!

  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    The I’m still here picture.

    Ready to work in the half dark!
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    Here’s proof I’m still alive

    The camera got confused on the angle I guess
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    I’ve had some little twerp try to drive me to suicide and failing that? Sell me off bit by bit.

    She stole my identity and now wants my work. She claims that she’s “the real one”. When I doubt even her nose is real.

    She’s tried getting me on drugs, turning me into a whore, selling me to sex traffickers (separate), assassinated my character, stolen my writing, actually doxed me, and is using surveillance of me as an oh shiny to hack others. She had my genitalia mutilated, she even tried brain washing. What the fuck do you want from me?

    She’s manipulated reality and twisted perception of me so my neighbor hears sound I’m not making. Everyone does.

    She’s stolen from me, she’s trying to use hacking and the police to steal my cat.

    She’s hacked hooks into everything and annihilated anyone helping me.

    She even defaced my crosses.

    I’m a sweetheart that is quiet most times so you only hear me when tortured into being chatty or prodded and pocked at with such nasty rhetoric I seem angry and fierce because that’s all you hear.

    Now she’s trying to drive me to suicide – again. And you think I should.

    What do you want from me? To go back in time and not use Nepenthe as my belly dance name? To lack talent and hard work put into writing? To lie and say Allah doesn’t talk to me? That he didn’t save me for a book he wants?

    This world is corrupt. There’s more than one path to him, heaven, or nirvana out there. And he wants a signpost since you seem to need it.

    I’m supposed to what? Succumb to the voice trying to kill me by lying that I’m abusive? He’s real but his words are lies.

    I didn’t deserve to be shat on by everyone. I still don’t. But she’s obsessed with my destruction and the fact I’m still alive is driving her to madness. Now she’s trying to invent perception of a crime so I kill myself when accused.

    She’s been so extreme because I’m still alive. But frankly I don’t want to be. I promised to do everything to get better and she claws at every hand I put on the sheer cliff face up.

    She’s obsessed. This is what obsession does. But no, I have to die before she’s stopped.

    Frankly I feel like hiding too. And oh yeah Tabitha is my cat.
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    Not bad for a “crap need to prove I’m still alive!”

    I’m losing weight so my face is changing. But it’s me!
    Not bad for after a clay scrub, clay mask, and jojoba oil! My once a month routine!
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    No one, including Microsoft has permission to use my work, or my voice, written or verbal.

    And stay off my fucking blog all the spunky bitches out there! (Everyone else is welcome to read it but not use it)

    Remember this one?
    Or maybe this one?
    Or perhaps me on a bad hair day?
    Or maybe this one?
  • I was a writer. Now I seek more to life.

    My search is broken

    One search
    What I should have seen