I hate to write. 

People die, people are born and in the middle we exist. 

I truly don’t mind existing. Everything else is a guesstimatiion. What am I here for? What’s my purpose? These things don’t exist in my world. 

I never wanted to be in the public eye. To be loved by the public is cheap. Humans are so easily manipulated it just getting boring. 

The internet. The very thing that saved me  in my introverted bubble is ruining this planet. It’s so much easier to control the populous when they are screaming in caps at the ether and each other,  trying o say the most edgiest shit in 300 characters or less. How many twats does it take before humans say the same thing in 300 characters. 

I never imagined I would be where I am but I’m also starting to figure out where it is I am going. I’ve been fighting it. I’m going to fight a little while longer. It’s still the back seat for me while I build. Not something that I own. 

This part of the experiment is going to be very fun.