Prodigy, Dusk, Hornet, Ricochet
You hate me because I love you.
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I could be wrong about everything. Anything.
I feel like the world that’s watching me thinks my life is a movie or something. There’s an audience out there and they’re wrong about something: They think this is a movie. And I can prove it.
I talk about love and peace and respect and justice… and then my captors and critics will at this time provide a supercut of all of the most choice moments of my anger — and people will laugh at the comedic editing. They’ll go “haha, this is fun, we’re watching The Office, haha!” but ignore all of the smallest and most important bits of reality that actually go into those fucking human moments. What I would assume is lacking in those moments is a dose of reality and a true demonstration of what built up to those moments when I have “lost my cool,” although I feel like I’m usually having what’s a pretty natural response to the depths of the immature depravity that I am made to endure every day.
If you have eyes and ears and a heart and a brain in your body you can tell that I am a good person and that the only reason I am ever brought to these unfavorable points in my life is because something external is going very very wrong. And I believe my society is responsible more than they are admitting to me and to themselves.
I recognize that there exists this little thing called “the power of choice” and in a lot of moments in my life I’ve made mistakes. And I’m sorry. But I also know that not only have I long-since paid any debt to society I may owe. But what I actually am made to go through is not only illegal and unconstitutional, but violent and barbaric.
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My bike pedals are still broken. I think that’s wrong.
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My laptop’s still broken. I think that’s wrong. I wrote this before. I received hints about it before hand. There’s probably a clip of me tripping on the power cord. There was never anything about it that made me realistically worried that I might’ve damaged the laptop at all. I didn’t break the laptop. They’re just not letting me use it. I paid $125 to get it fixed. I want it back. My laptop’s still broken. I think that’s wrong.
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I believe that the history books will most appreciate those who come forward, rise up and talk about all of this in plain speak. To identify it and actually address this kind of underhanded attack that Americans spread upon each other. Almost like it’s a part of politics. I believe that the highest up in power should rise up and formally decry what I am made to go through every day for what it really is: illegal physical violence.
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My government is currently guilty of a criminal level of negligence of my case.
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Self-fulfilling prophecy. If there’s been the decision not to help me because of whatever unfavorable reasons ‘they’ can drum up, it’s like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Choosing to leave me alone for all this time is of course only going to hurt me. I know that I am not asking for too much wanting some of my life back. The people who are supposed to be protecting me should also not be hurting me by denying me help. Any help they can. The rampant cheating and aggression and illegality against me should already be enough to motivate you to make the right decision to help me in any way that you can. Not helping me and then choosing to find ‘reasons’ (excuses) not to help me is like a self-fulfilling prophecy.
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There are things you could be doing to protest what’s happening to me. Every time I talk about some new way they’re trying to hurt me, I hope you press on those boundaries. Whenever I make some kind of plea or appeal that goes nowhere, please find the boundaries that stopped it. There are statutes or official positions or policies that somehow allow for this medieval torture to continue every day. Please find the lines that are drawn. Sometimes they’re invisible. Please find ways to push up against these boundaries. Through litigation or protest. You all know where the lines are drawn better than I do. You know what to fight back against. But there are things you could be doing. More things. Every time I’m here talking about how I’m getting harassed, please find more and more ways to fight back for me.
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I have no idea what you really think about Darkness Forgives. I’m still working on it. I’m probably going to switch back which politician dies at the end. “No son of a bitch alive knows what’s going to be a hit.” It’s got a little bit of tweaking left in it. I think I’m going to ignore some advice (from this program) about what I could add to this screenplay. It’s not a bad idea at all and I hope to see it in some other movie someday. Implemented in the same(ish) way that it was suggested to me. It really was a good idea. But it’s not me, so I’m going to continue going in my own direction. However, there was another, much smaller suggestion that was given to me through this program about what I could put into another one of my future screenplays. And I think I actually am going to implement that one. It’s a good idea. It’s so brief. And I really think a lot of people might benefit from seeing something like that. If I do it right. If it hasn’t already been done. And there’s a lot that’s left up to me.
I think there’s also a lot in Darkness Forgives that might help a lot of people. Please consider helping me make it a movie.
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A long time ago….
My older brother told me about something he briefly experienced. I thought nothing of it at the time.
One night he was home alone. Probably around 10–13 years old. He was watching Cheers. He told me he was listening to the words of the opening song. They made him cry.
What he didn’t tell me was that it wasn’t a normal thing for him to do. And he didn’t tell me why he felt that way. Now I know why. It was what’s called an unhealthy response. Or trauma. I know a little bit about that now.
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I probably don’t even have a heart issue. I just have the scars. I was probably cut up for the sake of leaving me crippled and easier for their methods of manipulation.
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You hate me because I love you.