Hacker

What I am about to say is true, and sometimes the truth is unbearable. It’s too cliché to say fact is stranger than fiction, when in actual fact, the world I was living in was a fiction. I denied reality for so long because it was too painful, that I forgot who I was, and I was all alone.

I had run away from childhood with my parents, and found myself in a whole whirlwind of life I was not prepared for. Growing up I was banned from putting on anything popular culture, pop music or popular TV, because my mother screached at me it was evil, sinful, and to be avoided. The only music I listened to was Peter and the Wolf; my mother’s favorite film soundtrack which I have not seen to this day “The Sound of Music”, and a whole load of Vinyl records of Chinese Classical Music, Peking Opera… and the weirdest I ever heard was Communist Anthems. My mother would sing along and march and it was the only time she laughed as she recollected her favorite time of life at the Communist Boarding School.

I was so ill-prepared for life taxes scared me, getting a job scared me, everything scared me. Unfortunately I did not seek the route into Independant adulthood following my doctor’s advice, when I confided in him I was going to run away. Instead, all hell broke loose and my groomer, a Chinese man named Nick, felt so guilty about the trouble I was in, he drove me to a friend of his, a Tattooist, who was good at forging documents like TV licenses and stuff.

The man I will refer to as Bill, said he could take me in with his spare room, and he expected back payment of £60 a week as soon as I could afford it. Believing I had no choice, and I had “ruined myself” among men, I believed this was what I deserved. I never sought any other advice as I believed I was unworthy of options. One must take the bed one sleeps in. And unfortunately, when Bill showed me the room, it was packed full of storage so he said I would have to sleep in his bed. And so I believed this was my penance for choosing a life of scandal rather than purity, and giving shame to my family.

From that day, until now, I dissappeared, and never had a place to call home. As I write I am in homeless, but this time reaching for reality.

I had a cycle of 5 year relationships, each successively worse than the prior, because each time, when I thought I had found a “rescuer” the veil pulled back revealed a person of even more malignant intent. I survived 5 years with the tattooist, then ran away again and found a WHOLE APARTMENT to rent for £60 a week. By now, I was at University, paying for my own education using my skills to make business out of nothing. I do not know where it comes from, but I’ve had this knack for making money, and unfortunately just getting by, because in the times I have had any significant return, it was stolen from me by whoever was next in the relationship.

The next relationship was Shaun, whose name I never spoke for 15 years after this tragic end, because he was indeed evil. It takes two to become pregnant, but somehow this was my fault, and I suffered his abuse and yet still bore another child.

Shaun was a serial unemployed hobo. He moved in with me into my own apartment, brought his television, his PlayStation, and didn’t leave. After being fired consecutive times, I once again, capitalized on my money making skills, walking onto business premises and just asking them if they needed help in anyway, and even without a resume I got the work. How? Because I was good at making other people look good.

I contracted work from home before it was even a thing. I designed flyers, restaurant menus, brochures, and even technical manuals. I was good on the computer, and also good at making things. I used every hour of my day either studying, making, designing, and along came parenthood to add to that mix.

I never asked for a holiday, I was always occupied and rarely watched the television. It just wasn’t even a thing for me, growing up banned from even a radio, and spending all evening making things or studying Chinese and Practicing brush calligraphy until bed time.

Shaun had the perfect life. He would be at home all day, playing on his PlayStation, or in the garage tuning up his motorbikes, and that was pretty much it. I had three babies to take care of, and since a full time mother can’t also be in any career, I set up my own methods of income.

They were varied, towards the end of that relationship I had fully established myself in the community on the Isle of Wight - as an artist designer by day, and curtain maker or hacker by night. How can one make money off hacking? Well in those days it was much easier.

We had moved to a remote island to accept Shaun’s job opportunity, but he was fired after his probation period. Living on an island with little economy to start up, I realized the only way to sell was on the internet. The only way to be found was through eBay, and in those days the listings were not heavily moderated. I had figured out to be at the top of the algorithm score, the listing needed traffic. With a pure traffic numbers game, one would stay at the top of eBay listings as “popular”.

So I had to find traffic, strangely I figured out internet code early on and adapted several MySpace profiles to feed traffic to eBay. As the first big social media platform, I found by surfing the time zones, one could always capitalize on the most active zone no matter what time of day. So I automated my MySpace profiles to grow by 100 people a day, and the profile was just a giant free advert.

I survived well off this tactic, but after experiencing 4 years of Shaun’s hobo unemployment, and his obnoxious behavior, I wanted to separate. As soon as I brought the conversation up, he became angry and violent, which immediately put an end to that relationship. I was now sharing my Children for half a week with the disheveled man who did not know how to cook. So his parents moved in with him to help him, and from there they plotted.

On Boxing Day, straight after Christmas as agreed, I brought the girls to our home where he was living with his parents, but there was a moving van outside, and they were waiting for me. The children never went indoors, he told me there was someone on the phone for me and led me in. The lady on the phone “This is CSA calling, I would like to confirm you are the parent of Anja and Zoe-” to which I was stunned that he had set me up with Child Services Authority to give him 100% alimony for the children for being a full time father. I turned around and realized they had already bundled my daughters into the car, and Shaun was joining them following them on his motorbike.

They had kidnapped my children. At Christmas. I was such a stupid person that I never figured out his personality was of the awful kind - because I had no bar set, my parents were awful to me also, so I normalized abusive behavior and was in this moment destroyed. One may be smart, able to figure things out and survive, but also incredibly dumb.

For the next year I pursued custody of my children, while I was marooned on the island, the experience was beyond traumatic, I was breaking down and this was used against me in the court. I was alone, while he lived with his parents.

Life for me became weird and abstract for the next five-year escapade. Shaun had shredded my character in court, and evicerated my emotions so badly, that I believed now I was the leftovers, unattractive and undeserving of any relationship. In this state of mind, this time an even worse psycho came into my life.

He pimped me out for sexual services, used me to garner lodgers and other girls to join in the fetish world. And I was that dumb, I went along with it, but as things grew worse, I had to make an escape. His name is Brian, and he was a particularly vile person. A closeted cross-dresser, and because this was his furtive way of life, it was also decrepit, unhygienic and akin to living in an unkempt crack-house.

The first part of my escape plan was to use my skills once again to find work, to enable me the expense of getting out. I found another decrepit human being by the name of Lord Dave West. He was a millionaire with no scruples. Russian girls were trafficked through his properties, a Russian Spy was poisoned on his property, the Russian “Mafia” as Egita and I called it were always present. She was the girl I worked alongside, and with each other tolerated the bizarre personalities of Dave West’s friends and accomplices. My job, was his “computer girl” as he called it. But essentially I used the internet to make him “look good”, or at least a decent human being, if that could be achieved.

I scanned the internet for his scandals, and with my ability to drive traffic, destroyed any evidence or newspaper writings about the murdered Russian spy on his property. I didn’t realize in those days it was called a DDOS attack, and newspapers really weren’t geared for the internet as much as they are now, so they would simply delete the offending page.

Dave West paid me in a wad of cash, from a shoebox he kept behind him chock full of money bricks. He wore a ridiculous pink suit and was always guarded by some Russian henchman. Unfortunately my under the table cash earnings were given up to Brian, he always talked me out of it like I owed him and I had zero assertion. The only way to get away from this pimp and the life of being surrounded in nefarious perverts and villains, was to leave the country.

That’s what I wanted to do! Get as far away as possible from these freaks that had poisoned all of England. I believed I couldn’t get out of this “mark” or “shadow” that followed me, so I decided to leave the country.

And as luck would have it, my internet skills advertisements worked, in the most beautiful way. I was offered a job in the Philippines for a film studio, making fetish costumes for a movie scene of decrepit lifestyles. Who better than to style it than me? A person who was surrounded in sadistic and sordid men.

And I left the UK, only I did not know at the time I would never return. I was finally free! No one could follow me! So I arrived at the gunman guarded film studios - wait-gunmen? Anyway I arrived in the beautiful hot climate, that felt like home to me in a strange far off dream. Now this job, was the closest I’d been to reality all my life, real documented work. Taxes and visas and forms and shit like that - that made me feel I was on the safe side of humanity for a change. But I was wrong, however, I will take this moment to pause the story here, as for me it truly was a moment of real wonder in my life that I had come to Asia, and felt for the first time peace from within.

I was always guarded and escorted, and that gave me the impression I was of respectable value, for the first time in my life.