If I say something, 15,000 people will listen.
If I say nothing, 45,000 people will poke me until I DO say something.
Obsessive "Rhythms" reader in Brooklyn, NY? You're stalking us. I have a pretty good instinct as to why, but I'd like to know what's so goddamn compelling that it requires pathological snooping.
You out-Google and keyword search more than the average person, and I don't know if you're a vulture, a superfan, or a twisted sensationalism journalist. 15 subject searches and keyword queries in one day that took almost 2 hours? Sucking up my writing every single day, multiple times a day?
FIND SOMETHING TO DO WITH YOUR LIFE.
The search scope is pretty specific:
ME
ME AND DRUGS
QUITTING DRUGS
MY FRIEND AND DRUGS
MY FRIEND AND DRUGS AND I
MY FRIEND, PERIOD
ODDLY, NICOTINE PATCHES
QUOTES I'VE SAID ABOUT MY FRIEND
REFERENCES TO MY FRIEND
PICTURES OR CLIPS OF MY FRIEND, MY FRIEND AND I, OR OF MY FRIEND'S FRIENDS AND I
THE TITLE OF MY BLOG AND MY FRIEND'S NAME (FIRST AND LAST ON OCCASION!)
Like, what the fuck? He's a witty, smart and talented man who totally makes me laugh and shares some commonalities with me. He's also almost *too* nice and what, in my opinion, should boil his blood, he's really pretty calm about and isn't a huge fighter. His resilience is admirable and his strength and zest you can't help but want to enthusiastically thumbs up. Really, just a really, really good guy. I drive him nuts often enough such that I'm used to him channeling me out as I "blah blah" through life's oddities, and he's actually told me before what he can and can't handle, & what he cares & doesn't care about when I over-disclose.
It totally sucks that the press has turned conjecture and speculation, which was completely unwarranted and intrusive, not to mention completely fictional, into articles and out-of-context interviews while these fellas are beginning to talk about and push forth their latest major project. My friend doesn't deserve to have his life scrutinized for details that are nobody's business but the people he's chosen with whom to share his life in whatever capacity that might be, whether casually or intimately. Too many people feel a sense of entitlement to know about his life, by virtue of his profession, when that is not the case. Too many people care so little for him as a human being, husband and father that they relentlessly fish for gossip by which to lay him out like a lamb to slaughter, which he ends up having to correct and clarify in spare time he does not have, much for the sake of protecting and loving his family.
Again, what the fuck is wrong with people and for Christ's sake, why would anyone fucking dig in MY little pile of dirt as if some huge revelation or hot news was within the confines of my blog? Sorry, but you won't find much of anything, so it'd be best for your own sake to crawl back into the hole from which you emerged, if for no other reason other than I fight forcefully and dirtily, am loyal but easily agitated, and when people royally piss me off, or devalue someone I care about, my claws are very, very sharp.
Having said that...
I know your IP address.
I know your geolocation and the exact coordinates, and have seen the building in which you access my site.
I know that your internet service provider is Optimum Online.
I know that your ISP is generated out of Edison, NJ.
I know you're using Safari and have a Mac.
I know exactly when you read, what entries you read, how it takes you to read them, and what all of your searches are.
Sorry, if you try to access through a proxy, yeah....that doesn't work to hide you.
Methinks with a little more tech work, or perhaps paying $15 online, I'll get your name, address and phone number, after which you should really, honestly hope I don't get so agitated that you suffer some type of acute severe trauma.
I don't deserve scrutiny. People in my life don't deserve scrutiny. Your hyper-invasion into my world was most unwelcome, and most importantly, you can't trust the media to be reporting the truth.
I am really, really proud of my friend and how well he's doing, and empathize with how hard it was for him to get and stay in a good place, because a lot of the same things, I've already lived through myself.
Vulture? Whomever you are and your purpose? Go outside and play hide-and-go-fuck-yourself.
Please leave me alone and quit the fucking garbage of intensely combing fine hair after fine hair for a sign of lice on my friend. None of it is any of your goddamn business, and this entire entry I shouldn't have felt the need to write.
Step away, because I'm keenly watching you.
If I say nothing, 45,000 people will poke me until I DO say something.
Obsessive "Rhythms" reader in Brooklyn, NY? You're stalking us. I have a pretty good instinct as to why, but I'd like to know what's so goddamn compelling that it requires pathological snooping.
You out-Google and keyword search more than the average person, and I don't know if you're a vulture, a superfan, or a twisted sensationalism journalist. 15 subject searches and keyword queries in one day that took almost 2 hours? Sucking up my writing every single day, multiple times a day?
FIND SOMETHING TO DO WITH YOUR LIFE.
The search scope is pretty specific:
ME
ME AND DRUGS
QUITTING DRUGS
MY FRIEND AND DRUGS
MY FRIEND AND DRUGS AND I
MY FRIEND, PERIOD
ODDLY, NICOTINE PATCHES
QUOTES I'VE SAID ABOUT MY FRIEND
REFERENCES TO MY FRIEND
PICTURES OR CLIPS OF MY FRIEND, MY FRIEND AND I, OR OF MY FRIEND'S FRIENDS AND I
THE TITLE OF MY BLOG AND MY FRIEND'S NAME (FIRST AND LAST ON OCCASION!)
Like, what the fuck? He's a witty, smart and talented man who totally makes me laugh and shares some commonalities with me. He's also almost *too* nice and what, in my opinion, should boil his blood, he's really pretty calm about and isn't a huge fighter. His resilience is admirable and his strength and zest you can't help but want to enthusiastically thumbs up. Really, just a really, really good guy. I drive him nuts often enough such that I'm used to him channeling me out as I "blah blah" through life's oddities, and he's actually told me before what he can and can't handle, & what he cares & doesn't care about when I over-disclose.
It totally sucks that the press has turned conjecture and speculation, which was completely unwarranted and intrusive, not to mention completely fictional, into articles and out-of-context interviews while these fellas are beginning to talk about and push forth their latest major project. My friend doesn't deserve to have his life scrutinized for details that are nobody's business but the people he's chosen with whom to share his life in whatever capacity that might be, whether casually or intimately. Too many people feel a sense of entitlement to know about his life, by virtue of his profession, when that is not the case. Too many people care so little for him as a human being, husband and father that they relentlessly fish for gossip by which to lay him out like a lamb to slaughter, which he ends up having to correct and clarify in spare time he does not have, much for the sake of protecting and loving his family.
Again, what the fuck is wrong with people and for Christ's sake, why would anyone fucking dig in MY little pile of dirt as if some huge revelation or hot news was within the confines of my blog? Sorry, but you won't find much of anything, so it'd be best for your own sake to crawl back into the hole from which you emerged, if for no other reason other than I fight forcefully and dirtily, am loyal but easily agitated, and when people royally piss me off, or devalue someone I care about, my claws are very, very sharp.
Having said that...
I know your IP address.
I know your geolocation and the exact coordinates, and have seen the building in which you access my site.
I know that your internet service provider is Optimum Online.
I know that your ISP is generated out of Edison, NJ.
I know you're using Safari and have a Mac.
I know exactly when you read, what entries you read, how it takes you to read them, and what all of your searches are.
Sorry, if you try to access through a proxy, yeah....that doesn't work to hide you.
Methinks with a little more tech work, or perhaps paying $15 online, I'll get your name, address and phone number, after which you should really, honestly hope I don't get so agitated that you suffer some type of acute severe trauma.
I don't deserve scrutiny. People in my life don't deserve scrutiny. Your hyper-invasion into my world was most unwelcome, and most importantly, you can't trust the media to be reporting the truth.
I am really, really proud of my friend and how well he's doing, and empathize with how hard it was for him to get and stay in a good place, because a lot of the same things, I've already lived through myself.
Vulture? Whomever you are and your purpose? Go outside and play hide-and-go-fuck-yourself.
Please leave me alone and quit the fucking garbage of intensely combing fine hair after fine hair for a sign of lice on my friend. None of it is any of your goddamn business, and this entire entry I shouldn't have felt the need to write.
Step away, because I'm keenly watching you.
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