Sylvanna Devlin

That pitchfork in the brain feeling is real and induced by pressure waves

That full skull pain that feels like a vice is really induced by pressure waves.

The sudden desire to kill yourself is the “suicidal frequency” of pressure waves.

The sudden nerve pain and sensitivity is the “fibromyalgia frequency” of pressure waves.

Silent pressure waves can be so powerful that they collapse the ear canals

The pressure waves are real and really dangerous.

I don’t know who you’ve been listening to or what she said.

I do know some of, but not all of the nasty rumors about me – lies.

But you’re spewing crap at me for things you heard or heard about that I didn’t say or do.

This will lead in my death.

Which is what they want.

If I go to the hospital it follows me.

So don’t pretend it’s concern for me you try to send me there.

Because I start, just start to get better and they’re back.

And your solution is to tell me to kill myself.

I go, dominos fall

Before you know it everyone in this city is a primary target.

Not long after there is no more city.

You can all reach me with audio no matter what is done. Do you really think this is what reality should be like?

Be stubborn. Be survivors. Don’t let them win.

Stop posting it

You don’t have a good enough reason to make me suicidal again.

And that’s the consequences

One day it might be straight to death for me.

You used, scrunched up tissue, not fit to wipe a baboons arse.

Aka.

Why didn’t I put two and two together?

The gaslighting was that impressive.

My digital signature was stolen and used to train a troll-bot and phishing AI.

So I gave US intelligence services permission to use my past present and future work to stop criminal activity. I own the copyright but they can use it.

So that pissed off some professional criminals.

And they specifically targeted me. With so, so much bull.

And anyone next to me either is innocent and would rather avoid me. And not be near me as I’m targeted.

Or on criminal payroll.

Of course they’re going to try to kill me. I’m trying to stop them from killing others.

All of it boils down to a bunch of organizations from the underworld targeting me and my neighbors either becoming on the take or just fed up.

Maybe at least the gaslighting will stop.

(While I appreciate you think the picture on par with a digital image. I used clever lighting not clever software)

And these are splints, not jewelry

I don’t think everything in the world is about me.

I am tired of the AI reporting a facial expression and everyone misinterpreting my facial reactions.

Like you will ever understand my motivations

Because you don’t want to.

I look sad when other people are hurting.

I smile when couples are cute

I’m delighted when I hear others fall in love.

And their joy is my joy.

It does not make me an emotional vampire.

I do not think I’m the center of the universe.

I’m an empath.

And ready to end it all before even waking up properly, because people used to like that I care about everyone and everything and can feel for them so strongly.

And now you shit on me for it.

You heartless bastards.

Your response? You don’t believe empathy is real.

You ignorant, heartless bastards.

I really should give up on life.

Since my feelings “aren’t real”

You’re tired of every insult ending up online?

Here’s a revolutionary idea.

Stop making them.

I’ve never done anything wrong.

I’ve never said something racist – though goodness have others around me. And sometimes by someone I finally rebuke. But you’re all so awful to each other it makes me want to cry.

Any hurt has been mutual and things like breaking up.

I’ve never hurt someone on purpose- just to see.

I’ve never hurt somebody on purpose at all.

It’s true. I’m isolated. Because in person you can tell I genuinely care. But spread my ideas online and you’re so jaded and cynical you think I’m the weird one.

I’m so fed up and exhausted of you.

I have to create a big dragon around me to survive how harsh and hurtful you are.

I soften up and “No one is like that”

Apparently I’m not real.

And again, you’re fed up of your foul attitude ending up on my blog and you use any argument you can.

I’m not being a “professional” victim. And you view that as bad.

Come on!

I’m asked for words and offer them.

But I decide what I won’t write.

Not you.

Attack me, physically, emotionally, mentally and I develop a ferocious aura.

The dragon in me emerges from my forehead energetically speaking.

And surrounds me with ruby red protection.

I become fierce and unyielding.

Ready to spit back or endure.

I will be the biggest dragon in Portland to avoid a physical fight and shut down any other kind.

But I melt into safety when a “bigger dragon” is in my area.

Encountering one allows the dragon to turn sapphire blue and go to sleep. And my true self emerges.

I’m soft, gentle and sweet. Good natured with a creed I stick to and patience for anyone. Everyone is beautiful to me. And I connect to others easily.

A mischievous pixie who could do with losing a few if the cortisol would let up.

It’s such a dichotomy that people think there are two people living here.

So it gets weird if someone appropriates my pen name or true identity. Or just someone has the same name.

Because everyone else is confused too.

I’m not used to there being an other Sylvanna or Melissa around. And now some claim to be both.

There’s a mysterious problem in this building – mostly from my stalker. So I must regularly be a giant dragon.

But by any spirit listening, I’d rather be a pixie.

It sounds like I should breathe fire however. Because I never was and never will be a whore.

Yes, that seems to be in question despite the fact I haven’t been in the same room as anyone else since February.

But some intellectually incapable she-wolf has lied, and lied, and lied about me.

Who knows how many have pretended to be me.

Some racist arseholes who use language I find so offensive I won’t write them for the affront they cause my soul.

Some lies are disgusting vile rumors, that I would let harm come to the vulnerable through my own actions.

And I still don’t really know what the hell is going on.

Except I lived up the road from an identity thief turned cyberpunk terrorist. And now at the end of the hall from a vigilante thief.

Exciting

When can I go back to being soft and sweet please?

Because this needing to be a dragon crap is old.

When asked if there is a God, why do we exist?

I’ve said we exist because he does but it wasn’t enough

He answered he wanted children

Not gods themselves

But enough family to feel loved at least a fraction he loves us.

Faith is important. But loving God is the ultimate kindness to our maker.

So all the reactive abuse, harassment, theft, threats, and gaslighting has been a game to you?

Here is what I feel about that – as I am a real person with the following feelings about you:

.

.

.

Clear enough?

I’m too numb now you have obliterated everything digital and are now working on the physical.

P.S

Apparently women here think I believe I’m in a video game.

Intellectually challenged wolves at the door.

I am saying people have treated me like abusing me is just a game.

Since your comprehension is as vile as your personality.

Don’t like my reaction to your shitty attitude?

“You can move, if you want.”

Not with the way you harpies shat on my credit score. I’m trapped thanks to laughing hyenas.

Also

Please stop commenting on my hacked private messages to my mother.

You clueless nitwits

Also

Photos of me vary by angle, posture, mood, sleep, bed-face, water weight, saggy stages of weight loss, and lighting. If I play with filters or makeup I state so. I do not use photoshop and have not had plastic surgery to look like this. My face is the one I was born with. While it should be a compliment you think I’m pretty enough not to be real, it’s not one. Because you don’t mean it that way

“I’m Just joking.”

“I Just said one thing.”

“I only (fill in the blank).”

“I only searched”

“I only stole one thing”

“I only broke something small.”

“That’s just gaslighting”

“It’s just a threat”

You even play games, like I am a toy. “Let me try…..”

Cumulatively you’re killing me

And when I point out you want my suicide?

“Don’t talk about that”

“We’re tired of that.”

Rebuked?

“Some angel.”

You cumulate and harass, words that should be innocuous becoming thorns in the mind, and then claim you either care or are just “tired of hearing it”

Even “go to the hospital” is used to harass me – so how am I to tell? I can’t “come back to reality” when you sound the same.

You might care, but the robot is just prepping me to have the rug pulled from under me.

There are at least 8 maybe 9 voices from the trollbot – saying the same so there’s no way to know what’s manipulation and what’s the concern of a passerby.

I can’t go to a hospital- it’s not just that some say they have plans to loot my room. It’s that the trollbot follows me and harasses everyone- some even more vulnerable than me.

Music none of us control rings through- and I am both driven mad by it, and by requests I stop playing it. Stigma and scapegoating mixed with reality abuse.

Some are responding to a bot themselves. I can be calm and quiet and they still have to say something to me when I haven’t said anything. You said you’ve been listening to me for twelve hours?

I haven’t been awake more than 5.

You are all listening to a bot and calling me crazy for it.

But I do appreciate those that get through that they’re real and just care – even though they don’t know me.

You claim I have no self control

But I am alive, thus far.

And many “just have one thing to say”

Because they can’t help themselves and hold their bitching tongue.

They are, together, harassing me.

All seem to have ears to hear but not listen

But some are beginning to understand

If all my blog contains is proof of reality abuse?

And many are laughing about what I’ll believe next?

Then?

“Come back to reality?”

I should kill myself

Because I’ll never have the truth again.

But calm down, stop ganging up on me. And I have a chance.

You now push and abuse, pretending you don’t believe I could survive your continued harassment.

Read that again.

You are continuing to abuse me.

Because I’m still alive.

That’s what you’re saying.

You think you’ll make the bogeyman out of me.

Doubling down on your hate, spite, and lies.

Nothing will stop you.

Because the mirror is uglier without what’s left of your soul.

How would you feel if I you succeeded and I became an actual monster?

Because I would indeed kill myself.

Which you say you want.

Then ask me to go to the hospital when you almost get it.

Face the evil and malice in your soul for I have none and a creed I return to again and again and you have lost your way