Someone Hacked My Facebook Back in 2009 And Sent Strange Messages to My Friends
It’s recently come to my attention that someone hacked my Facebook back in 2009. From what I can tell, the worst damage they did was message my friends while pretending to be me. But for reasons that are obvious in their portrayal of me, I couldn’t have written those messages. The writing style isn’t my own. I don’t sound like that. And I never went to an A*Teens reunion concert.
Take this message for example: “the a teens concert was so dopeee!!1 sure their a lil older now but they playd upside down lik 6 times in a row!” That’s ridiculous. Why would anyone play a song six times in a row? This concert probably didn’t even happen. And if it did it probably wasn’t that great anyway. Unless it was. I wouldn’t know.
The messages get weirder. There’s a long string of messages to my father that were read but never responded to. Some of the messages are just emoticons. I don’t use emoticons. I prefer to wield language in such a way that my emotions are conveyed through metaphor, syntax, and word choice. Also, I don’t talk to my father.
I don’t know exactly what the hacker was trying to accomplish, but they were certainly sloppy about it. Why would anyone send the entire 8th grade class a lengthy, typo-ridden invitation to the school talent show, which everyone was already forced to attend? Why include a trailer of the performance — a trailer longer than the act itself? Why demand that the class vote for them instead of the other performers lest they hurt themselves and possibly others?
There are so many obvious giveaways, I don’t know why anyone would think it was me. Besides the fact that my name was attached to those messages, there’s nothing implying that I wrote any of them myself.
I wasn’t even really on Facebook in 2009. I was on Myspace. It’s been deleted since, but my Myspace was the shit. My layout was dope. I had people basically auditioning to be in my Top 8. Unfortunately, it’s not there anymore, so whatever time-capsule containing my 13-year-old self is gone. Some Myspace hacker probably deleted it. The real me, the one actually writing messages and posts and whatnot, didn’t officially come onto the Facebook scene until around mid-2010.
“Spending some time with me tonight,” reads a post on my Facebook from mid-2010.
Totally reasonable. Sounds just like me. Has capital letters, proper punctuation, a confident but humble voice. Compare that to a message the hacker wrote to my best friend Cindy in the spring of 2009: “lol im never alone thx tothe invintion of m3d1c@l m@r1ju@n@!!!” Like, what? We don’t have medical marijuana in Kentucky. And even we did, why would someone like me need a prescription for it?
What I really feel for the hacker is pity. Because I don’t think they were trying to steal my information or sell my data or anything like that. I think they were trying to do something else.
From December 2009: “get hi every DAY. m e d i c a l m a r i j u a n a #globalwamring #morelikeglobalhornying”
The hacker was in pain. Even if just for a moment — in the time it takes to exchange a few messages — they wanted to be someone else other than themselves. They were troubled. Just read that last hashtag again.
Wherever they are now, I hope they’ve found peace. I hope they’ve realized the only person you get to be in this life is yourself. You have to love that person — I know I do. I also never went to an A*Teens concert. That would be super embarrassing.
