The people who have bullied me since 2010 don't think that they're bullying me, and they don't think that they've done something wrong.
Like all bullies, they think I deserve it, and they never stop thinking of excuses. They think that they can say anything they want about me and do anything they want to me, and that I don't have the right to free speech, even in my home.
There's nothing I can do. There's nothing I can say. There's no policy I can write or number of times that I could publish it. There's nowhere I can live and nowhere I can leave that will stop what's happening to me.
I have a lot of homework to do, but I spent several minutes waiting for it to be 3:05 p.m. so that I could publish the page before this one. I have no privacy. I have no real freedom. My life is agony every day.
I can't have friends who have normal lives; the conglomerate has attacked everyone whom it has ever known me to talk to for any reason, whether it's a famous person or not. It turns everything into a rumor, even when there's no truth to the rumor. It sexualizes everything about my life, to continue to promote the idea that I'm a sexual freak who is not harmed by the horrific sexual abuse that the conglomerate has inflicted on me in increasing degrees of invasiveness and permanent psychological and social damage since 2010.
The conglomerate doesn't care how much harm it inflicts on people.
A day hasn't passed since the conglomerate began to torture me in 2010 when suicide hasn't been part of my thoughts all the time. I haven't killed myself because I have hoped that the persecution will end, but it doesn't seem as if it will end.
Copyright L. Kochman, February 20, 2017 @ 3:09 p.m.
