Saturday morning. Packing up to leave Thailand. Naturally, I have made little progress since last night. Everything is still a giant mess, as per usual.

Had a dream last night where I was stuck on one of those little old timey mine carts like in Indiana Jones and kept having to dodge a bunch of ugly, old men. Lol, welcome to Thailand! Perfect metaphor, lol.

Ah, it’s okay. I managed to pick up two perfectly attractive men in my own age range (for once) while I was here. Not bad! Okay, so the British Guy was like, 8 years older than me, but he’s still a Millennial so it still counts! It’s not like he’s some divorced dad in his 50’s…

So weird that my troll never comes after me for my taste in men. All of my weaknesses and you keep choosing these really random, really specific snippets that try to paint me as some kind of monster when you have a literal silver platter of terrible choices to choose from right there in front of you. It makes no sense.

Like, I literally helped a deeply, tragically misguided couple in their 50’s get divorced last year, and you don’t have anything to say about it? No. Instead you’re out here trying to paint me as racist towards Vietnamese people (again, so specific and so random) based on one badly written tweet from five years ago even though I’m literally living in Southeast Asia RIGHT NOW. Like, what is that? It’s so weird!!!

I just don’t get it.

I bet if I saw those screenshots of those tweets again, I would be like, “Hmm, yeah, yikes, I see why you interpreted that the way that you did, but here is a question for you: have you actually been to SEA and seen the way white expat men treat the local women over here? Because that’s exactly what I was talking about in my tweet. It’s not that I personally perceive them that way. It’s that men give favor to women they perceive that way. If you actually saw how it is IRL, you would not be mad at me. You would be mad at the Passport Bros.”

So, again, I don’t know what this person is trying to prove to the world, but at this point, their weird, stalkery, threatening behavior definitely qualifies as Harassment. I’m not the one on the wrong side of the law here, buddy. It’s you.

Here’s my advice: don’t become a lawyer. You’re already on track to lose every case you take on. You’ve lost every case you’ve taken up against me in the last 10 years. It’s time for you to give up and go home and ask yourself, “What am I really fighting for?”

Nothing. The answer is nothing. They’re just some crazy random crackpot on the internet who lives in bumfuck nowhere and has literally nothing better to do than harass people on the internet.

Can’t wait to go to Vietnam just to spite this specific person. Here, Vietnam, sorry we fucked up your country with our dumb, unwinnable war against a political ideology. Please take some of my American Tourist dollars to make up for it.

And they all lived happily ever after, except for the troll who exploded because they couldn’t handle having a complex thought in their brain. The End.

Americans can be really weird about sex work culture. They just don’t get it, honestly. So many of them live in this little bubble where they think sex work is this empowering thing where you’re JLo in Hustlers or making millions on OF. In reality, it’s uncomfortably young-looking girls hanging out in Nana Plaza waiting for the next Passport Bro to walk by. It’s not a fun, cute, sexy, empowering thing. It’s ugly. It’s really fucking ugly.

So, yeah, I just don’t want to hear it anymore, especially from someone living in South Dakota. Stop acting like you know anything about the world. Please. You don’t know shit about shit. I’m tired of being the person you use as a punching bag because you’re too stupid to learn anything new or go anywhere else. Just leave me alone. You’ve made your point. Now go crawl back into your hole. You are not going to succeed in “ruining my life,” whatever you think that means. If you think that you can, you are literally mentally unstable and you need therapy. Have you tried yoga? It really helps. Trust me, I would know.

Ugh, I do not have time to waste on this post. I need to be packing up to go. It’s like it’s not even real yet.

Well, the reason it isn’t real yet is because of my visa issue. I still haven’t received word that my application was approved. So now I get to show up at the airport with all my paperwork proving that I applied and paid the fee and have all the shit they require and hope they let me in. Otherwise, things might get complicated. If anything goes wrong, I’ll just play the Dumb White Girl and pretend I don’t know how corrupt and rotten the post-colonial government actually is. I saw The Act of Killing. I know what I’m signing up for.

I’m sure it will be fine. I have all the paperwork I need. It’s not like I’m going to France and they’re gonna pull the “you have everything we asked for except for the one thing we didn’t ask for that we didn’t tell you that you need” thing. The French love to pull that that shit. I love the French, but they can be very French. The paperwork thing is real.

Okay, I literally do not have time to waste on this anymore. I need to get going. I have to shower and pack and make sure these yoga pants finish drying before I can pack them. Ugh, mistakes were made. I didn’t give them enough time to dry. This is how I learn these things the hard way.

Ugh, I am just so annoyed this troll is still following me around. Literally, what is the point? What are they trying to prove? Yes, you’ve really shown me that I’m wrong about South Dakota and the Midwest with the positive example you’re setting with your upstanding behavior. For me, shit like this is why I hate it so much there. This. Right here. What you’re doing right now. It’s just gross.

Look at your life, look at your choices. What are you trying to win? What are you trying to prove? It clearly wasn’t enough for you to harass me on Twitter when I was stuck living at home with my dying father and abusive, borderline mother during the pandemic, feeling lower than low, drinking every day, desperately lonely, wondering if I was ever going to make it out of that shithole alive. Now you have to follow me across the world to Thailand and continue harassing me here. Why? What are you doing, really? What are you trying to prove?

This is why you have a reputation as puppy killers. You just love to kick people when they’re down. It’s sick. I have no respect for people like you. You are trash.

I guess I can’t imagine obsessively stalking someone this way because I don’t do it anymore. I knew it was unhealthy and toxic, so I worked really hard to stop the behavior. Now I don’t need to do it anymore. I just stopped caring about what they were doing and started focusing on myself, my goals, my dreams, my visions, me me me me me. Not men, ME.

Now I don’t need to check in on my exes because I’ve turned them all into fictional characters. I know where they are. They’re living on my Island of Lost Guys, forever immortalized like the Pokémon Card Collectables they are. That’s how I deal with it. It is what it is.

Hope it was worth it to get my attention. Have fun looking at yourself in the mirror. Now, if you will please excuse me, I am going to go pack up for my trip to Bali and pray to Lord Ganesha that my visa gets approved so I can enjoy my Yoga Teacher Training Course.

What can I say? It’s not easy to work on myself. I have to confront all the ugliest parts of myself and learn to love them anyway. It’s not easy. Not everyone can do it. That’s why I’m going to Bali and you’re making fake accounts online to write people hate mail. We are not the same.

What can I say? Some people are simply better than others. Why? Because we try to be. That’s why.

Have a lovely day, all. I need to go wash the grime from this dumb argument off my hot, sexy, in-shape yogi body that these super hot guys love! 🙂 🙂 🙂

I don’t know why I worry about people like this. If my dad was here, he would tell me to ignore them and not engage. I always engage. I just have so much rage inside of me. My whole life, for as long as I can remember, everyone around me has been telling me who I am and how I feel like their sick interpretation of my behavior is a fact. Like, literally just stop telling me who I am and how I feel. Stop. You’re wrong. You’re just flat-out fucking wrong. Your evidence does not hold up in court. You have lost your case. You’re wasting time and money trying to fight me. You’re only draining yourself at this point. Just back off. I’m over it. You are not in control of my life story. You are not writing my narrative. Nobody cares what you fucking think of me. You won’t even put your real name on your harassment and hate speech. You’re literally just some fucking coward sitting in a basement trolling someone on the literal other goddamn side of the planet.

Here is a summary of our argument over the last 15 years:

Me: I’m a writer.

You: No, you’re not! You’re a CRAZY BITCH!

Me: Yes, it’s true, I do struggle with mental health issues, but I’ve been to therapy and work on myself constantly. I do not and have not ever made a secret out of this. This is very public information. I really strive to be the best version of me so I can set a positive example for others who have struggled with similar issues. I’ve even become a yoga teacher because I’m so dedicated to my self-work. I studied in India and now I’m going to Bali. I’m definitely going to write a book about all of this. Are you going to read it?

You: No! No! No! No! You’re crazy! You hate men!

Me: No, I hate The Patriarchy. I actually love men. I’ve got hoes in different area codes. Literally.

You: But you made up that story about that frat! You were lying just to get attention! And you lied about all those other guys too! You were fucking some guy for booze and shelter!

Me: I actually didn’t lie at all. Here’s a documentary on the dark side of Greek Life to back up my claims, here’s the police report I filed against the guy who assaulted me, and here’s the collection of stories I wrote about how I date shitty, abusive men who hurt me because I hate myself. Again, that’s why I need the yoga. As for the last gentleman you mentioned, I literally have no idea what you’re on about. You sound like a crazy person. At the time, I had my own apartment with a lease in my name and a bedroom at my parents’ house. Here is a pile of paperwork proving all of this. I didn’t need to fuck this guy for “shelter,” as you say. Are you on drugs? Where are you even coming up with this garbage?

You: Well, uh, uh, uh, well, uh, you’re a racist! Here’s one tweet you wrote when you were blackout drunk that I misinterpreted in order to fit whatever bizarre agenda this is.

Me: Wrong again. What are you doing? Seriously? Get a life. Get a hobby. Do something other than whatever the fuck this is.

You: CRAZY CRAZY CRAZY CRAZY CRAZY *head explodes*

Me: Okay, Bye, Felicia!

Off now. I need to focus on getting ready for my trip. For real. I don’t know why I’m so mad at this person. I’m just so over it. Like, go away. You are wrong about everything all the time. I’m tired of dealing with you. Go bother someone else.

UGH.

I hate that this person is drawing my energy and focus away from me when I really need to be channeling it inward towards myself. I just need to send them peace and love and hope they get the epic dick down they so desperately need.

Namaste, bitches.

Farewell.