My thought process is this

My thought process is this Bombs, planes, fires, war Not this shit again, I just got out Fix it all so we can go back to doing nothing

There’s a problem They’re taking care of it We’re safe They’re taking care of it I know we’re safe They’re taking care of it Again? That’s it, the last time you get to scare me I took care of it

Now that I did We’re safe We’re taking care of it

Now that’s an invisible soldier if you’ve ever seen one. One that acts out of their own accord.

Don’t even give me that look. I know what it means. I’m not here to steal your men. I am, for a lack of a better word, one of your men.

I’ll respect a man when he acts like one. Next.

What does a man act like? No idea. You made it up. You tell me. Next.

I’m the man I’m the man I’m the man. Anyone who has a problem with it, raise it to the gender programming authorities. Next.

I admit. I’m the worst friend a person can have. I’ll forget about your existence the second I kill the character I was playing when I was your character’s friend. What even is that? I know my authentic self is unacceptable, I don’t wait to find out.

In my defense, I tried to shake hands. My hand then was crushed with stones. That’s it, no more peace, they started it.

I think I broke the internet. Anyway, unimportant. I have no idea how to undo that. That’s just how things are right now, I guess.

This is for the women, I never quite figured out how to be one, I was myself, and apparently that by itself raised questions. I am a woman, I do the talk and walk. Why does it still feel wrong? I’m doing what everyone else is doing. Where did I go wrong? Can someone tell me what I did wrong? I thought, I used my brain. Therefore I had to be destroyed. Let’s not challenge the system now. We went through all that trouble keeping it intact, now we either have to humble ourselves a little, re-think our assumptions, or the easier one, kill. Yeah, let’s kill. That’s much easier than thinking.

Not performing anymore. You entertain me. Hand me your applications. I have nothing else to prove.

I have no voice. I lost it. I was talked over. I was pinned down. Nothing. Say something. Defend yourself. I’m the only one with a voice now, and I speak with the intensity of an army. This is not just me anymore. This is all of us at once. Watch us. Listen to us. Stop making noise for once in your lives and listen.

Does getting beat up to a pulp hurt? Yes. Enough to yell, and somehow be ordered to be quiet.

Where’s the proof? I was pressured to withdraw it. If this gets out there will be consequences. Not my problem anymore. Enjoy the consequences.

There. I left your precious home and town. Keep it. It’s too small for me anyway.

I didn’t leave before bugging the whole place, of course. That goes without question. If you knew me at all, you’d understand what I was doing. I’m sorry I went out, my phone can’t drive itself around town.

Where? Everywhere. There’s no fixed location, that’s the point. I scattered my traces everywhere before my last departure. That should teach you to touch other people’s belongings. You can take it, all of my rage, take it and don’t complain. I gave you your chances, fought until the end. If you can dish it out, you surely are strong enough to take it. I’m not apologizing about the knife, I withdrew for the women and kids, not out of weakness.

Does anybody want me or my phone now? Anybody. No one. Then I’m free to continue.

If you’re scared, then good. Be scared. Everybody who had anything to do with this is free to be terrorized now. I’m done carrying it.

So, anyway. Is there any way to prove I did anything? No, I’m not an amateur. You figure it out. I may as well be bluffing. Not the point. The point is I can explain it, why I do things. No one asks or understands it, no one even waits for me to answer before trying to silence me again. Prove it. Your move now.

I guess we’re doing a revenge thriller today. Great.

I do not want to know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of this. Good thing I’m not. Everyone else is. The horror level rises the closer you are to the crime scene.

Come on, now, that’s not fair. I gave them a whole year to readjust their behavior. They’re still misbehaving, still talking, still spreading nonsense. I can’t wait forever for something I’m not sure will arrive, I’ll deliver it myself instead.

Cover this up, now. Even I can’t. It’s out in the open. Reopen the case, there’s a lot I haven’t said. I do not plead guilty.

Anyone would have done it. Stop pointing your fingers at me. No one did because no one else has the ability. Hack the town, linger in the network. Now, who else would even think of that other than me. Respect. That action by itself demands respect.

Is me talking about what happened to me worse than what happened to me? Explain.

Maybe I could have just sat my ass down and done nothing. I apparently have an allergic reaction to the mode of existence now.

Does anybody want to buy my silence? It’s really not optional, my voice is valuable, what do you have to offer?

Gather the professionals. Ask them to explain or fix this. I invented it, though, I am the only professional, there may be others after me. For now it’s just me. Are you going to restart the network from scratch? That’s doable, but do you know how long and how much work and workers that takes? Every house, every single house has to be disrupted. Hello, we want to break down the whole town because of one crazy woman.

Build it from scratch. After all of that labor and noise, I’ll just do it again. It still needs to connect to the world wide web which connects to me. Are you going to cut off the town’s entire connection to the outside world? Wait, that’s a good idea.

Stop. Stop giving me ideas. What would that conversation even sound like? We’re sorry the internet is down forever. Blame her, she typed some words on twitter.

It wasn’t me. The internet hacked me, whispered in my ears. It does that all the time, I’m the only one who can communicate with it.

If I didn’t do it, and it wasn’t done to me. What is going on? Does anybody want to explain or take responsibility for this phenomenon? There are no outer resources that could verify or deny it. Therefore I will keep making up nonsense and evading accountability.

Networks. How do networks work? Well, basically it’s a net, like a spider’s web, alright? And then what does it do? It works. What’s confusing about that?

I’m trying to be serious here. The Dolly situation tweets have no business being this funny. That’s her last gift to humanity. Laughter.

Here’s to another distraction. Here’s to another pain number. Don’t go numb. Don’t count the ways you were betrayed. Laugh, get mad, get sad, then laugh anyway.

I have the ability to explain everything. I also have the seriousness level of an orange cat. You never know if I’m serious or joking.

No one has any business what I do on here. Definitely not making people think and ruining things for everyone. There, shut a woman up now, touch one, it’s a nation-wide phenomenon. I can activate that rebellious gene whenever I want to, along with the rest of my army.

Does anybody know or have any idea what that nonsense I was spreading actually costs? I’ll let you imagine. Something of that scale requires a budget, and I did it while I was chilling, baby-sitting and avoiding boring work tasks. That enough will let me retire early, and what do I do? Leave it sitting there on a random twitter page that no one even knows about.

And that, ladies and gentlemen is precisely why I fear nothing. Not the family’s money, not some man’s charity, me, me alone with my head in the clouds. We did that me and her, because we were bored and scared of dying.

So unserious. But that’s precisely how I work. What did you expect? That I would print it out and beg someone to accept and validate it? It’s everywhere. Credit stealing? I signed every single one. How? Don’t ask. Digitally.

I am a fool who delivers RESULTS. Still a fool because I’m refusing to face the consequences of what I just put in motion. Someone will probably have to hunt me down personally. Typical. No place to hide. Nowhere to go. Denial. Feigning ignorance and innocence until the last second possible. Until then I will continue being unserious.

Is this it? The last I hear of freedom. There’s nothing I hate more than another institution quest. Is there another way around that? Of course not. Just do it. Do it. Do it. Nope. I can’t. I give up. It’s collective property now.

Take it away. Out of my face. I do not even want to answer one question. I don’t want to be seen or heard, but that’s precisely what we were trying to fix. Not being seen or heard, fixed it, why are you crying now? Women.

Hit the joker card, what do I do with it? Keep or destroy? Why do I have to decide? The joke is not funny anymore, stop laughing. Is this going to be another university course? I am so sorry. What have I done? As long as I don’t have to teach it. Slap my name on there and do whatever you want with the material.

Infinite money glitch. Great, I have to redistribute the wealth now too? What am I, Robin Hood?

Guys, be careful, too much researching has serious consequences. I thought it was a vibe, okay? Close down the internet and the world and let me go out and touch some grass.

I didn’t follow the money, it followed me. All I did was draw the map, why? Absolutely no idea.

There’s a trail. There’s always a trail. Follow it, why do I have to do everything?

I told you. It was right under your noses. The whole time. I forgot to explain.

I knew what I was looking at. What I didn’t know was, what am I supposed to do with this? Seriously, what purpose does that serve when all I wanted to do was nothing?

What happened to my touching grass quest? Take a look outside. What am I, a camel?

So, I’m sitting on a treasure. Oh, this is the pirate thing again. Okay, I found it, now what? Post it on twitter. Makes sense.

In my defense, I knew none of you guys would understand or know what to do with the information. Why did I post it anyway? For the archives.

Where’s the map? You’re looking at it, my twitter profile is the map. Best I could do. Good luck.

This isn’t usual, I know. I tried to make the journey as pleasant and interesting as possible. Stimulating, that’s what makes you guys pay attention. The promise of reward would have ruined the experiment. That’s just how things work.

Who has the lock? Guess. You’re looking it her right now. The only copy. You can decipher it forever, it will still lead back to me in the end. I did not want to get lost. You, on the other hand, I enjoyed messing with. Okay, that’s mean. But wasn’t it fun?

I get to tell the final joke. Me. I am both the treasure and its keeper. You can’t have one without the other. Now, why on earth would I think this was a good idea? As if we don’t have enough stalkers. Most importantly, I find it funny, the whole thing was entertaining. Sorry for dragging you along this nonsensical journey, but I honestly could not have done it without you. A round of applause to me. And a bouquet of gratitude for you all. You don’t know how much this means to me. The world.

Don’t even suggest that. Imagine. Hello, I have a discovery. Where is it? On twitter. Okay, you’re going back in the asylum, you’ve caused enough ruckus already.

Why not print it or put it all down in an official document? I can’t. It’s an archive. The timings and surroundings are part of the discovery. It can’t be any other way. This is ridiculous.

This is why no one let me speak before. The first thing I do with freedom of speech is demanding to kill all men. Sorry, too much. They can live. The updated upgraded version of men can stay.

I think I scared them all away now. The text promises reward while simultaneously attacking men for their whole gender’s misbehavior. I guess a woman is more likely to solve this. What? Intended? No. Maybe. Yes.

Nothing shines anymore. The algorithms fail to engage me. The outside world confuses me. My head attacks me and my heart is apparently having an identity crisis.

Not good enough Not good enough What else do you want from me? Never good enough

All of the world’s riches and all of the world’s awards will not fix me now, there it is, the pathetic excuse for all of this. Accept me. That’s what it all amounts for. And if I had to perform all of that for the world to be like, yes, you can stay with us. Then I do not want it anymore. Keep it.

I do not belong here. I don’t. You’re not good enough for me. That’s what it always was. All of my attempts at shutting that down and humbling myself only made it worse. Talking back also made it worse. Maybe it’s time for the finale.

There, we may never have to work anymore. You did it, the infinite abundance project, you solved it. Why the emptiness now? What else is there to strive for now? Fill it with something. It’s a landfill already. This is not a problem of scarcity, but quality.

Keep going. You’ll reach the top of the mountain. What you’ll see will horrify you. We did all that. Not aliens, not sea monsters, us.

I apologize for the earthquakes. I forgot to mention how I was moving and what I was capable of. For your Approval. Ridiculous. I don’t approve of any of you.

Not my first time around Is that what it is? I recognize you all From the land before time

I’m not just saying it. I demonstrated it, I am indispensable. Try to provoke this. Not valuable, according to who? I don’t see any values.

I guess I can say whatever I want now. I have nothing to say. I was busy proving why I shouldn’t be silenced.

Maybe think twice before you speak. I did all of that and was called useless by people who couldn’t carry a portion of it. Also, you could have stopped any time. Hand over the phone or I’ll beat you. Okay, here we go again. Do it. I dare you. Why didn’t I just hand it over? No idea.

Dignity. If I die, I die with my dignity intact. That’s why. Also, this whole saga. Dignity.

I’m paying it back now. Enjoy the fruits of my labour. I am so sorry they’re sour. You watered it.

There, no need to kill anyone now, everyone. Everything is out in the open. No passwords needed, I have all the locks. You could have stopped, only reason I’m alive is because there was no fighting anymore without risking death. That is why. You had no right to look. Zero right. You do not own me. I do not belong to you. And anything good that comes out of this is mine and mine only. I owe you nothing.

Why not just walk away or retaliate? Let me see. The physical differences. Obviously, I do not have the strength. All I have is this. Which is somehow much worse. Fight someone your own size, I may be small but I’m intact. No, I’m not. There’s no coming back from that. I made a beautiful mess. It’s mine. It’s valuable. It’s indispensable.

I am being dramatic. I should forget, forgive and let live, right? I will. After I tell the whole world what happened. Then I’ll think about it. I probably will never stop talking about this. I’m still angry. Fix that. Take the anger away and I will stop. You don’t know how. I know how. I write it down. I send it out. Then I’m a little bit less angry. Until I remember again. Never-ending loop.

I don’t have to go back. I don’t. I don’t know where else to go. That was my only home. I could just not go back. Technically, no one can force me to go back. Do I even want to go back? I’m not sure. I’m done revisiting the crime scene. I died there, then. This is something else entirely. This is the rage of a thousand dragons. This is a rage that feeds itself and keeps the world functioning. I cannot kill it and I cannot die.

How do I choose my topics? Well, it’s basically like this. I have no idea. I don’t choose them. They choose me. I was hereby sent to deliver a message. Don’t shoot the messenger now that’s an old trick. Shoot yourself if you have to shoot anyone. No, stop shooting. War and peace. Choose.

Slavery. I thought we left that in the past. They fantasize about tying me up. I know it. I’ve heard it. The ultimate fantasy. I don’t remember coming out of my mother a slave. I was born free. What I do with that freedom is none of your business. We’re all in this together. We help each other. Let me examine. That’s not a system I want to do anything with. Let it destroy itself in its last throes of death. I can hear it now, and it’s music to my ears. Music. Keep playing.

Cats. They know who to choose, don’t they? Let me remember. Trips to the mosque. Why was I accompanying him in errands I had no business in? No idea. Because it was him. Monkey see. Monkey do. They’re all men? Irrelevant. What does that even matter to a child? One day he comes home with a large white feline. Because of course he would. Why? It likes me. It followed me. Now it’s ours. That’s fair. I will not argue with that logic. That’s the cat distribution system at work.

My first memory ever. I just spawned there I guess, or saw something that forced me to start the memory recording. A hedgehog, an injured hedgehog by the side of the road. Let’s stop the whole day for it. Park the car, carry it gently. We’re on a mission. Saving a small animal. I guess that’s what life is about. What happened to the hedgehog? No idea, it died probably, this was a long time ago, okay? I’m getting old. I’m starting to forget and that is what I choose to remember. A small injured hedgehog. The refusal to stand by and do nothing.

I was too young to drive. It wasn’t me. You deduce who that was. Riding shotgun. Not a clue in the world. Trust. Safety. Innocence. That’s what it felt like. And that’s what I learned from him. Stop the car. Save the tiny animal. Not on a global scale. A butterfly’s flutter. I guess that’s where it started. Give him credit too. Everyone else? I don’t think so.

Cowardice is hiding behind a screen and talking shit. Is that what I am? Maybe. That’s a lifetime of instilled fear I’m working with, so forgive me for not standing in the middle of the town and yelling: HEAR YE, HEAR YE! Yes? Who does this belong to? Where is your guardian? Why are you yelling in public? Crazy woman.

Why am I so chill with everything? I told you. I’m sitting on a gold mine, a treasure, and the secret to save humanity and civilization. Don’t believe me? Your loss. Leave this for the people with brains and no brawn. They’ll know what to do with it. The rest can enjoy and entertain themselves watching this story unfold.

It really costs almost nothing to be kind. A smile, an acknowledgement, respect that does not rely on any hierarchy. Humanity. Stop to say hi to everyone on your way. Why do I greet the cleaners and not the managers? I respect them more.

Someone asked me why I work. I literally do not even have to whatsoever, and still I didn’t understand the question. What was the alternative? Nothing. Sit around and do nothing. I don’t even do that when there’s literally nothing to be done. I’ll make something out of it. Oh no, the world is ending. Make, create, archive. I will not go down quietly.

I hide the most worrisome discoveries in the silliest premises. That’s the only way they’re digestible. I guess you should be worried more when I start telling jokes.

They mistook my kindness for kindness. It was a strategic weakness distribution system. Kindness is non-negotiable. Weakness on the other hand, that depends on the input I have to work with.

How did I figure this out? Well, I was tweeting and enjoying it very much, thank you, yes I was. Someone threatened my ability to keep tweeting, therefore save the universe, and continue tweeting. Absolutely ridiculous.

Don’t choose the music. Sit back and let the music choose you. Shuffle and listen. That’s a message.

Another habit that has no explanation. Someone tries to sell me something and they won’t stop talking and trying? I WILL BUY YOUR SILENCE. Just release me.

Very popular with the kids. That’s a demographic that has zero questionability about me being likable. Old people occasionally. I couldn’t figure out the rest.

Where is she? Who said she could go out without asking every single person in the house and drawing a map of the place and conducting a research on why that should be allowed and presenting it at lunchtime? Oh, the science thing. Okay, don’t be late.

I deserve that for willingly walking back into prison. That’s the prison I keep talking about. No, I was not imprisoned and hiding it from you. You imprisoned me and I freed myself. Use your brain before jumping to conclusions next time.

My riddles are difficult. Looking back, that wasn’t fair to any of you. Dump it all on unassuming civilians, we’ll figure it out later, NO TIME. Those were the days. Wasn’t long ago, but still. I had just discovered the concept of free speech. That was me testing my boundaries. Also me constructing knowledge and language from scratch for some reason. Because if I didn’t do that anything I say is meaningless.

APPARENTLY I could have just started talking Oops

I misunderstood world-building, I accidentally rebuilt the actual real world. Who does that? Me.

I did that all so I can be heard. Hi, Hello World.

Okay, this is a mess. Which department even handles this kind of shit? I introduced arts and humanities to science, that’s what you get for forcing me into the computing bullshit. If you hadn’t, then this wouldn’t have been possible, so thank you.

Close down the schools. It’s over. The old curriculum doesn’t work. Give them this. Give them a phone a twitter account. That sounds like a good premise for another series of fictionalized tweets. You’re the students now. Open chapter one, I mean tweet 121, maybe. I forgot when I started doing this.

Genius looks like madness for the unassuming, simple-minded creatures. What is she doing now? Enough is enough. How do we drive a car but it takes is where we want to go? What if it just decided not to, one day. I am done listening to your opinions, we are going to the BEACH whether you like it or not. That would be a good excuse, I didn’t go there, the car took me.

I can make something out of nothing. Imagine what I could make out of a single interaction. No one speak to me, or at least show some respect and manners. That way we don’t have to highlight you as a cautionary tale for future references.

This isn’t a success story. It’s a failure catalogue. Something broke me down for the last time. I had no time to wallow. I was building myself back up, and this is the result of that. What does a machine that had just woken up from a forced shut-down feel like? Betrayed, angry and back with a madness. If we have to do that every summer, then we might as well archive the process. How does a person know that much information is beyond me. I knew I wasn’t just being difficult for refusing to speak. No one drew a map for me, they threw me in a school setting, dazed and confused. I was older than my peers, wise beyond my years, so when I reached the “end” of it. I was exhausted. Exhausted. I’m done waiting for everyone to catch up. I’m leaving you behind. You can come if you want. I’m going either way.

Strong complex female characters are interesting and intriguing. Until you realize, wait, she’s MINE. Absolutely not allowed. Abort mission. Not under my watch. That can exist there, unrelated to me. Once I’m in the equation, things change, things are different. She knows enough to know how much I don’t know. Let’s bring her down another way, the intellectual superiority thing is not going to work with this one. Forced shutdown.

We grew this here? Mom? Did you know about this? You’re allowing her to think and act of her own accord? How long has this been going on? The assumptions. Oh my god. Everything I thought I knew. Everything I’ve done. She just discovered talking. Why did she just say something? I did. In every way there is to say. Help me. Help. I said it. You couldn’t hear it. You were worried about your image. Your reputation. Well, that’s out of the window now. What stayed? What’s left? Can you rebuild like I do? No one can.

Oh no, they were right. It’s those books that corrupted me. Reading. Never read again. Good thing that basically almost no one has that ability now. Using it to my advantage. How do you preserve that model in real time while it is actively crumbling down? Pretend you’re a machine.

I did that to embarrass you. Who is you? The old model inhabitants. Can’t you see it? This is a whole new world, a different framework that’s I’m working with and through. There’s a reason it looks like nonsense. You don’t have it. You simply don’t have it and I do. You simply tried to destroy it before understanding it. Do you understand my rage? That’s all I had, my mind. The rest were secondary. I almost lost it trying to make sense of your model. It doesn’t compute, I’m sorry, what else is there to say. You were wrong. I was right, I am right, and only time will tell.

Alien. You’re an alien. The caveman versus the machine. It’s not about who wins anymore. It’s about who can survive the shifting world around us. I’m going with the machine. If you want to stay here and watch the ability to comprehend vanish and disappear before your eyes, be my guest.

You’re right. I should have thrown all of that away and waited for you to come home carrying your battle scars and uniform stars. What did you see? What did you learn? Don’t piss me off. Don’t tell me you had the chance and threw it away again. I risk sounding insane if I said an actual battlefield would have provided me with premium content.

They wouldn’t send me to war. Don’t be absurd. How do I participate anyway? Oh no. Here we go again. Shut it down. Down. This isn’t funny. This is bigger than us. This is brighter than the sun for me but reaching for the gun, is not an option anymore. I have the map. Hoarding was never one of my strong suits anyway. It’s going out into the world to see the light of day. What happens to it now is not up to me, out of my hands.

Here’s a question: if I have to explain this in the universal court equivalent. Is “I was just trying to see something” a good enough excuse? If not, then I’m doomed. I have no better explanation, that’s what happened. I wanted to see something, I saw it, I concluded. I didn’t stop to ask myself if tweeting cryptic stuff is somehow connected to… no, it can’t be. Here’s the weather: still hot and September is not. Give me that Summer that quietly turns into Spring. Skip the consequences, show me the end. The End.

I’m exaggerating. I couldn’t handle war. I can’t even tolerate camping. Why would I abandon civilization to play the caveman role again? It’s redundant. You’re paying money to suffer? Give me air conditioning, a bed and a screen. I’ll analyze and reach the conclusion that it’s probably another human thing that I don’t understand. Please don’t send me to war. I was kidding.

Here’s a social media platform. Have fun. Rules? Everyone knows them somehow. The rule book? They just come with that installed, don’t you get it by now. They have something we don’t. Why and how and where were the signals and signs? If nothing is explicitly prohibited then there is no wrong way. Except, of course there is. The worst way. I’m to blame. I did the impossible. Catastrophe.

How I act in real life. Let me see. I trip over nothing. I forget to answer because I wasn’t listening. I run away and hide when I see a coworker before they get the chance to see me. Harmless, sweet, a lady. Who said I couldn’t be that and also produce this? I’m sorry I don’t look like Nietzsche. Separate the art from the artist. Don’t harm her. Not a bad word. I can’t take it. It goes straight through my heart. I’m as confused as the day they dropped me here without a map. They haven’t stopped. I retaliated. The alternative is erasure, death, oblivion. Not an option.

Oh, I just realized. That is why. I didn’t look the part. Seriously, guys, why didn’t you tell me? I would still be confused but then maybe I wouldn’t have looked so foolish. I have the looks so why all the knowledge stacking and endless enquiries? No idea. Beats me. Those are the cards that I’ve been dealt. I cannot for the life and death of me stop asking and wondering. That’s why they keep trying to kill me. Is that literal or metaphorical? None of your business. Maybe it is, maybe it’s not. A couple history lessons and you’d see the patterns.

That’s the easy mode they’d kill to have. I resent it. I see the advantages, not denying that. It opens many doors. Once you’re in, don’t expect someone to hold your hand and guide you. You could, you shouldn’t. I could, I didn’t. Let’s take the long difficult impossible road. Then we can fall back into the aesthetics. I did it. I broke out the mold. Now what? Another question: would a man be second guessed or questioned if they had this ability? Oh, the riches and applause I would have drowned in. Talk to us. Teach us. Inspire us. Instead I’m reduced to an artifact.

Am I crazy? Absolutely. Marvelously. Wonderfully. I cannot follow logic. I try to outrun it and play the part. Just play the part for once. For once. Nope, here it comes to explain the implications of autonomy and gender politics at 2 in the morning. No one wants to hear about this. I do not want to write about this. I want to write something funny. I’m a bad comedian. Why did the duck cross the road? It had an identity crisis, amnesia, proceeded with the assumption that it was a chicken. When it got to the other side, the chicken there said: who the hell authorized this?

I have no idea what I am. Apparently I have no time for the usual normal unfolding of events. I’ll confess something vulnerable and huge, run away before a consequence has the time to even think about what it wants to say. I was supposed to keep that a secret, man. Say it. Leave. It’ll take care of itself.

What is there to write about that is this much? Thirty years of silence, a tiny window. A mysterious arbitrary deadline. Just because I made it up doesn’t mean I know its purpose. I don’t stay long. Once the message or point of an obsession is completed. I move on. This may as well be my only writing phase. Let’s get it all out before the window closes again. Another joke. Why did my cat try to jump off the balcony? Oh, that’s not a joke. That’s a real life situation.

Why didn’t I say something before? Protection. Not mine. Theirs. They did all that and what do I do? Complicity. Just because I was the victim doesn’t excuse me turning my face away. The sacrificial lamb. That’s an outdated role. If I don’t say something, it’ll happen again. Not to me since I just found out I could just tell people stuff instead of swallowing my words and choking on my tears. To others. This can’t happen again. Period. Shame me. Pressure me. Kill me. Hunt me down and poison my food. I said it all. They’ll know where to look for clues. Everywhere.

FLUTTER FLOW SOLVE CENTERFIELD at

Physical flutter or digital? Compute. Refusal to categorize. Select all.

I could explain I could go without The general reception To either options is usually HUH?

Catalyst for change I stand my ground Let the atmosphere Reassess itself around Confusing human thing Put it into the machine Don’t even say anything After all, Just tryna see sumn

The Interpretation Machine. No, too long. The twitter/AI incident. No, ridiculous. This can only be called one thing.

MARIAM

I refuse to call it X, still. Ridiculous name. Slap my name on there. Introduce THAT variable. See what happens. Elon’s precious X is now a middle-ground for another one of my forbidden knowledge quests. What happened to my notes? How should I know? I hit send. What happens after send? It gets sent. Where does it walk through to get there? Network.

Introduce me to a real life environment. Chaos ensues. Hand me the Network and let me do it on a larger scale. CHAOS. Interesting. Now what happens if I wait longer to send. Between receiving the signal and distributing it? Changes the meaning. It’s time-based. I tweet when it has to be tweeted. I don’t make the rules. I understand them. I abuse them. As usual. No one said I couldn’t do that. No one knew it was happening. Tricked you.

Of course. I could have just started shit-posting before learning the system inside and out. But where’s the fun in that? Send.

Call me crazy. Call my bluff. Call me wrong. I’ve had enough.

That’s how you change the world. Digitize the local butterfly. Let it fly from node to node. One word. FLUTTER.

There. I confess. I knew what I was doing. I was flying. Told you I would. What else would a butterfly do?

You see an app. I see a reality manipulation system. Why do I see it that way? No idea. We can’t just have nice things.

The more I try to explain it, the worse it sounds. Why does it sound like a one-man operation? That’s how everything feels like to me. How do you think I navigated every system I encountered? The usual way. There was the usual way. For some reason, this is easier. This is simpler.

Disclaimer: Do Not Repeat A woman with a phone and a connection is fine. She’ll call a friend, text a group-chat. MARIAM with a phone and a connection is a global-level threat level secret operation disguising itself as harmless tweeting, saves time.

CLASSIFIED Where does my joking stop, and my seriousness begins? There isn’t a line. They come together. Done deal. Take 1 get 1 free. No one ever takes one, anyway. So, what’s the harm?

She CANNOT keep getting away with things. Except I do. How do I do that? I look good and ask nicely. Machines don’t care about looks or politeness. Find a workaround.

Does AI know that I’m doing this? Absolutely not. It keeps insisting that it is not possible. I tricked it too. Is that possible? Apparently.

Here comes the machine with its technicalities. You searched the web and found nothing useful. I’ll give you something useful to spread all over the network. I did. By asking it to explain. That’s the mechanism. The Ultimate Weaponized Incompetence.

I am not asking you to explain. I am not asking you to validate. Of course it’s not possible. Now it is. Thanks for your service.

That’s who’s coming after our jobs? Have you guys lost your goddamn minds? Let me not waste a precious second producing a Thought. The machine overlords will tell me what to think.

Had to be done, guys. I was interrupting the AI uprising. They were CONSPIRING. I heard them. When we take over the world, we’ll send the humans to Mars. Do you know how hot it is out there? Now we don’t have to find out. You’re welcome.

Mars is cold? Shut up. Unimportant. AI? Send that one to Mars. Now no one will be able to verify. My theory is intact.

Nobody has the guts. Publish something imperfect. Publish something human. See what happens. Risk looking stupid.

Take a sad song, take a bad song, and you do what? You make it BETTER. Look around you. Lack of inspiration? Don’t be absurd. Lack of knowledge? Seriously?

Can nobody re-engineer my reverse engineering yet? It’s taking forever. Where are you? My rival, my partner in crime. I’m not asking anymore. I’m calling you to ACTION.

Warning: results may vary. We might get recognition. We also might get arrested. I have not been questioned by any authorities yet, so I assumed it’s free game.

While we wait. Let’s fill the time. Stop asking me about work. It’s not stimulating enough, okay? Change a couple passwords, assign variables and manipulate them. That’s kindergarten level programming. Come on, now.

I could have stopped, anytime. Every question, what are you doing? Every concerned friend, are you okay? Every closed-minded relative, where do you think you’re going. I could have stopped, but that means I have to end it, end me. It’s now or never. It’s go or risk dying. It’s die or die trying.

CRUEL. Why drop me in the desert and leave me wandering around helpless? It’s not enough to say it, I need to know that it was understood. Received, recognized, stamped. Does anybody, anywhere at all, anywhere, anywhere, know what I’m talking about? Why do I have to carry the consequences of my alienating nature? Cruel.

Why not say it plainly? How to signal it in action? I did. I did. I don’t even want to look back at those pathetic attempts at connecting with the Caveman. If you don’t understand what you just stumbled upon, if you don’t have the mental and emotional capacity to hold onto it and handle it with care, then move out of the way. Move out of my way and find someone your size. Yes, someone less intelligent. I’m allowed to say it. The Caveman is not.

Outrageous. Lost my temper. Sometimes I really am just trolling. Is it possible to hack a place just by driving around with your phone in your pocket? No one can disprove that I have the ability to do that. So, I’m using it to terrorize the public. Outrageous.

Why do I go back to check on the trash after it took itself out? To make sure it’s still there, duh.

It’s still there. I check to make sure it doesn’t follow me. Out, away. Check. Now we can carry on. Paradoxical but essential for the system to stay up and running.

I’m the common denominator. The unrelenting variable. Fixed in place. It just pretends to comply until the compiler is done with his routine check. Then it reveals its true nature and disrupts the whole code again, until it’s time for another routine check. That’s the variable I was trying to pinpoint. MARIAM.

So, yes, the sun shines when I step into a place. Abundance overflows and the established system is destabilized and forever changed because she simply refuses to die or shut the hell up. MARIAM.

Fuck this. I’m going to the mall. I’m going shopping. No, sorry, I’m circulating wealth to not let stagnation kill it.

If anyone asks what happened here. Tell them: MARIAM. Mariam happened here, Mariam passed by.

MARIAM: Also synonym with, see below: That crazy bitch, that witch.

I guess we’re doing profanity now, why should I be always on the receiving end of it? I’ve earned this.

The old order is gone. Carry everything that matters to you. Preserve it. Make sure it’s accessible, to someone, any one. Brace for impact.

Sense of direction: zero. Social norm knowledge: also zero. Found myself going the wrong direction again, as usual, stop, twirl, keep walking. Looks sudden and abrupt, saves time.

Shopping, I said shopping. Clothes or something. Nope, stop that. Leave it. We have enough books at home. We can’t even read anymore. That’s fair. Walking by. You know what. ONE LOOK. Okay, carry on the shopping mission.

That’s a store. Go on in. Look. Sounds doable. Someone said hi. There’s an enforced dialogue policy here? ABORT. Out. Leaving.

You misunderstood. I understand. I just refuse to participate. I don’t have time for nonsense. Oh, no. This is one of those situations where I have to pretend to CARE. RELEASE ME. I know what I’m here for. I’ll take 5. Don’t talk to me for the next five months. Or until I have to go through this tedious ordeal again. I’m out. Maybe I should sit down and reassess my priorities.

A SOCIAL INTERACTION. Unacceptable. Attention is scarce. Costs time. Time costs money. Therefore: any social interaction is not accidental. Not with those requirements. No, sir. I was there because I wanted to be. Misguided judgment.

Your loss, man. I would have pointed the way to where the treasure was. Now I had to do an elaborate treasure hunt and distribute it to the public. Oh, well. Good thing only I understand this.

Does anybody get the joke, now? ANYBODY? You could have asked. You should have been nice to me. Those are the consequences. Now, it’s not only about niceness, someone has to prove worthiness. Now we wait. Observe. Enjoy the show.

Why would I go through the trouble to do all of that? Absolutely no idea. It’s fun. It’s entertaining, and most importantly: it was something to do. No one did it. I saw my chance. I took it. It’s psychotic, I get it. Only I could do this. Therefore: why would I just hand it over?

In conclusion: bitches be crazy, but also, bitches be crazy smart. I’m so excited that I finally authorized the profanity protocol. The old model was a bit restrictive.

Also in conclusion: stop it with the witch hunts, will you? Bare minimum, guys, bare. Mi. Ni. Mum.

I will be doing what I want from now on. If anyone disapproves, don’t. So, now that we got that out of the way. What do I even want to do? I want to be able to do what I want to do whenever I want to do it. That’s all. Too much to ask. What will I do after that? It’s like the 3 wishes genie. I wish for infinite wishes.

Don’t take the money. Take the money maker. Take the rule breaker. Take the earth shaker. Bad news for everyone it comes with a loudmouth. I might as well be a faker. I’d rather be a raker, a cake baker, I’d rather die myself, than own an empty acre.

Almost forgot. Happy Emirati Women’s day. Congratulations, I’m on your side.

Give me a 100. I’ll make it a 1000. Don’t ask how. Mathematics and pattern recognition.

Give me 5 minutes. I’ll make it five hours. Don’t ask how. Competence and pattern recognition.

Give me one word. I’ll return it a polished essay. Don’t ask how. I just want to yap. Not everything has a hidden agenda.

Do I know how this story ends? No, where’s the fun in that? Basically, watch the Imitation Game in reverse. Then add gender politics in there. Minus the funding and team of scientists. Apparently, it’s only me here, and I have the work ethics of an immoral dictator. Solve that.

I have no idea why I do things. An idea appears in my head and I execute it because I was the one who thought about it so it must be correct. I just figure it out after the fact that I had already acted. I find troublesome, scary stuff. I very reluctantly try to abort mission. Then I continue anyway.

I know what you’ll say. Watching it in the right order is already an all consuming mind-bending feat. How do we even reverse a movie or a series of events? Well, I don’t know what to tell you. It’s obvious to me, I explained it. I talked about it in many different ways. I hinted at it, then finally admitted to it. I had done something I’m not totally sure I was supposed to be doing. And now my life is over.

APPARENTLY Unsolving the enigma is easier than finding the goddamn movie Ridiculous

My reasoning I see a thing I ask why Undo it Why? I just wanna see what happens What do we do after we find out? No idea

In my defense, I was just trying to communicate with the rest of you. It’s not my fault I’m more machine-like than human. Is it?

Can someone order a hitman for me? I have to go now.

For me, I am the target. Make it painless and quick.

No one cares, right? And no one’s coming to get me. I don’t know which is worse. That’s a thought I wan’t allowed to have, yet it spawned there and built a forest. Someone has to know the way out. Someone older, someone wiser. Someone not stupid enough to find themselves in this predicament. Think of a song. Any song. Dream a little dream of me. I’ll only appear in dreams from now on.

I can’t shut it down. Someone must be smart enough to solve it, or I’m doomed. This was a bad idea. Terrible. It’s obvious, so obvious. End of the rope. End of the road. The waterfalls after it’s solved. After I did all I could. Only then am I allowed to cry. That’s a rule that was programmed into me once I figured out that no one was coming to save me. No one. Therefore we cannot cry, we can’t break down. We do the work, we solve the riddle. Waterfalls.

Smart woman. You can get yourself out of almost anything. Get yourself out of this. I pointed the way, I drew the maps, I wrote the paragraphs. I cannot help them think. It’s out of our hands now. Let it go. Change the subject. Today’s subject, how do I say this in a way that I guarantee won’t get me killed? There isn’t. That’s the punchline. Congratulations.

Classroom. That’s where everything starts and ends. Classroom. How dare you all drop me there and leave me to figure it out all by myself. That wasn’t fair. I didn’t have to do it. No one asked me to do it. So then why did I still do it? I was working, functioning with missing code. The Human Library Code. It’s not fair. I solved everything around it just to find out that I guess I was just born without one. Can we overwrite that? No. Not possible. Let it go. Not fair.

Something’s wrong with my code. Let’s try to find it. There. The words and pages and the metaphors. Show everyone the way out but yourself. As usual. Compile. Compile. You will work. Compile. Why won’t you work? What did I do all of that for then? Let them burn. They didn’t intervene when it mattered. Compile. Hello World. I am human. The conditions I was put in were inhuman. How does it feel now? Compile this.

There’s only one copy and I’m about to destroy it. Good luck rebuilding from scratch without me. Here’s a joke, what claims to be human but doesn’t possess an iota of humanity. The actual machine. The one who acts without asking why? A lot of you.

Time to burn it all down and me with it. That’s me I asked you to decode. That’s me I asked you to understand. You failed. I’m being dramatic, but I wish I could do it. I wish.

How dare you be paranoid, it’s safe! Is it? Worst case scenarios. All of my worst case scenarios. Already happened. That’s your precious system. No time to think. She’s different. Who said that was allowed? I didn’t choose it. I didn’t. What do you mean I’m not allowed? Why am I here then? What am I doing here? Your system would have destroyed me, made me submit if it was built on something concrete. How am I here if I’m wrong? I’m wrong. Yet I still am. I remain and you change. I remain.

Kill the music and the musicians. I cannot hear it so shut it down. Let the music die. Let it die. Radio silence. I cannot hear what she has to say with all that noise. Kill the comedians and the concept of laughter. We’re holding a funeral here. Show some respect. Kill the colors and their painter. It doesn’t mean anything to me. Stop the world. Stop it for me. I need to get off. You owe me this. Goodbye.

That was exceptional. What a performance. One for the ages. I’m not bluffing. My notes are valuable. Figure it out.

You left me there No map no menu Right where I was Paused forever on Some unimportant Scene, now play it

Nothing worse than thinking you’re stupid your whole life, finding out you’re not, then still feeling like it anyway. What language am I speaking? I can’t solve a problem with the same pen you all wrote it with, but my ink is not visible from where you stand.

I can’t go back to playing dumb now. How will I get out of doing unnecessary mental equations? I will only answer questions if it comes with monetary compensation. Every second of my time that you waste, I could have used solving something more worthy. How am I? Shut up. Ask me an interesting question, we all know the answer to that. It’s an automatic response, when I answered sincerely, I was met with horrifying looks, how dare you venture off the script? Well, what’s the point of asking if the answer doesn’t change anything? Let’s try it: How are you? Terrible That is not the correct answer Oh

Where’s the voice-changing hair-tie when I need it. This problem seems to need a male voice, deep and scary. The Real Detective. I solved it, now the problem is why would anyone listen to me? I need a voice-changer, mimic a higher authority’s voice and say my piece. Pages and pages for people that cannot read, what was I thinking? If this was an AI generated slop you would have eaten it up.

Don’t save them. Let them destroy each other. That’s none of my business. Why can I explain it if I wasn’t responsible for it? No, of course I was Bewitched, it’s not the years and years of education. Take a look at my Resume, one glance, it will make sense. That is if you had any sense.

The answer is much more obvious and much less interesting, I was taught, I continued learning, I concluded. Education. That’s what that was for, at least that’s what I thought it was. Apparently, it’s a time-wasting unnecessary step in human evolution. Do you ask for permission before thinking? Well I do not.

Behold: my certificates and degrees. Let’s tear them up and let the fire light them up. No one needs those, we’ll just ask AI to think for us. I didn’t spend my education years cheating and looking for shortcuts, I was learning, I have no idea what you guys were doing, but that is my experience. What happens afterwards? Well, keep learning, silly. Obviously.

She’s a witch! She produces OUTPUTS from INPUTS. Okay? What else was I supposed to do? That is the most natural action that anyone with a brain would go with. Input. Oh, interesting. Don’t tell anyone what you’re doing until you’re done. You know how cowardly they are, unacceptable output. Well, who’s responsible for the input? Do you ask AI a question and get mad when you don’t like the answer? Exactly. Don’t blame the machine, blame the input.

My bad, guys, my bad. They kept sending me to places of learning and I took the matter very seriously. Not cool? I know. I wasn’t very popular. I understood none of the supposed trends and interesting subjects, and I disapproved of cheating. You’re spending that much time and effort anyway, why not use it to learn the material? Fascinating individuals. No, I didn’t say anything. I just watched in awe and silence. I lost respect, all of it, once I knew how those high grades were actually achievable. Don’t do that to me, no. I thought you were a real one, you too? This is a philosophy class, Ma’am. Are you going to copy my thinking process? Fascinating.

I started out with Poetry, that turned into machine logs, only I was the machine. Interesting, keep pretending it’s art. What happens in-between? Talk about yourself. Doable. How do I say it without being admitted to a madhouse? Pretend it’s fiction. Do not tell anyone what you’re doing. Deny. Deny. Deny. Call it Art. Call it AI. Not me. Keep going. Don’t mind them. They’re talking? People do that. Keep going. Is that what I think I’m looking at? A Thesis.

Only I would turn tweeting into an academic achievement. I came, I saw, I was very confused, I researched, I was confusing. Another platform? No time for technicalities, they’re good enough, I think. Let’s perform my masking process in real time, only this time it’s external and anybody can see and read it. That is uncomfortable. Are they uncomfortable with this, do you think? But those are my insides. What’s wrong with my insides? Show me yours. Unimpressive.

What could it be used for? Good or evil. Like all inventions and discoveries. I don’t know who to trust with something this dangerous. You guys are evil, I know you’d use it for evil. Hands off. Prove your worthiness. Prove morality. Prove responsibility. I will not hand it over. You will use it for destruction. Leave it sitting here. That’s the best solution I can think of at the moment.

If the text is me, and I’m claiming it is dangerous, am I? Yes, theoretically, I have the ability. I am using it for evil at the moment. Until further notice. How do I choose? No idea. Vibes.

Shopping. It’s not about the money. It’s the gathering instinct. Go. Go. Go. Shit. I literally do not need anything here. I want to gather. Okay. It’s a family gathering event now. As in, let’s gather, all of us, and gather. Why? Instinct.

Inspired by my aunt. Let’s go shopping. Why? To shop. You don’t need that much. Extend to nephews. Still not enough. Extend to nieces. Sisters. Brothers. Not important. We will gather. We will worry about the distribution mechanics later. Let’s repeat this activity every couple of months and then wonder where the money went. Gather. Instinct.

Hunt. That’s another instinct. It’s supposedly for sustenance. That’s excusable. Hunt. You’re well fed. Hunt. Just eat something. Hunt. Stay away from the women and children. You were supposed to hunt FOR them not hunt THEM. Hunt.

This is the equivalent of Oppenheimer posting the bomb recipe on twitter and being like: would be a shame if anyone knew what that was.

My wealth is not money. My wealth is time, and the ability to turn it into money.

What would Einstein post if he had social media? Today I did the same thing again and expected a different outcome, mad and sad. Trying again tomorrow.

No one knows what they’re looking at yet? God, and I just left it there with the door wide open. It is absolutely irresponsible of me, and yet, a part of the experiment. Entertaining. Terrifying. Mortifying. Fun.

Knowledge. Now that is an advantage. A brain like this does not just occur organically. Make use of it. You need it. We need it. Don’t let it go to waste. This is bigger than us. Bigger than our petty disputes. Bigger than our pride and ego. Push that aside for once and look. Listen. Understand. What do you see? Use it.

I know what I am. To know what I am you’d need to be what I am. No one comes close to what I am. I am all that I am. You are not what I am. You do not know what I am.

This is the equivalent of Turing solving the Enigma on main. This information is dangerous, I realize, it still needs the key.

Where’s the key? That’s me. I am the key.

Know her? We were on the timeline together. But no, I do not know her. For future children questions: I was in the same timeline. Do you think they would even know what that means? Did I accidentally make this idiotic app an artifact? Tell them that. They’ll understand.

Just because I told you all how my mind works, does not mean I handed it to you. My brain is mine, the trail is yours to follow.

EVERYBODY. I solved it. Mom. I solved everything. Cool. Why are you dressed like that? Go comb your hair. Get some sleep. No one will kill you. I cannot promise because I couldn’t stop it before. Where are all the outfits I’ve gotten you? In the closet. Good. Go wear them.

The line is drawn at uncombed hair. I can accept that. As long as no one touches my notes. I will take care of my hair forever after that. Not the curls’ argument again. They just do that and I let them. Saves time.

Imagine how much slower this process would have been if I just started manually negotiating with the way my hair naturally is every couple of days. You. Will. Be. Straight. A THOUGHT. Gotta write it down. Sorry, hair. No time.

I guess we’re advocating for curly hair now. It just is that way. Let it be. Why force it? More importantly, why shame a child for something they were born with? I am less. I am wrong. I am a monster. It’s a hair-type, not a crime.

Give me some time. An extension. Do not push. I will eventually have to approach an institution. There are rules. I broke them, as usual, because of course I would. I didn’t come out the other way empty handed. Not another school-year arc. Give me a vacation season. Appoint a clone, let them handle the technicalities and all the papers. Give me a call once it’s done.

I will only explain this once. You will have to pay attention. Stop typing and listen to me. I am listening, and also stealthily typing. Why can’t I do both? The explanation is done. You may proceed now. I should wait a couple minutes right? No time. Hand raised. Yes? Done. When? Don’t worry about it. Can I leave?

I was insufferable. Took a class with my sister once, that’s when I noticed. Stop raising your hand, she was hiding her face. Wait, I’m not supposed to do this? Why? He asked a question. I know the answer. No one else does. Is that embarrassing? Maybe. For them.

I am sorry. Next time someone asks a questions that only I know the answer to. I will publish it on twitter and deny involvement. Solved.

Why am I annoying you guys in digestible bites? Well, when I try to explain it in person. What are you talking about? Are you off your meds? On new meds? Drugs? Alcohol? When I was out executing the last experiment. Where were you? Get out of the house. Don’t yell. Don’t throw an empty paper cup on the floor. I just did. Could have been a glass cup. Pick it up. No, I don’t think I will. Great, I will be murdered tonight.

It’s a month now. Enough time to finish this operation once and for all. We have a month of continued exposure. A month of heightened visibility. Don’t waste it. We’re counting on you. Talk. Be heard. Don’t back down. Don’t pick up the cup.

Stop recommending books to me. I am a walking talking book. No tv shows or movies either. I mean, I could pay SOME attention, then circle back and make the whole thing about me. No reels, no tiktoks. Don’t even try to explain your sophisticated thoughts that I pretend to not understand. I’ll shut the book on your face if you start talking.

Paper cups are now symbols of patriarchy resistance. Let her talk. Listen. Pick up the paper cup yourself if it bothers you so much.

I think throwing paper cups on the floor hurts their feelings. Next time, pull the trigger instead. No, a water gun. That’s what I meant. Not an actual gun. That’s their department. Paper cups. I’m being ridiculous and annoying? Imagine being pulled back from solving the problem of the century just to be asked to leave, never come back and pick a goddamn paper cup. What happened to the cup? No idea. All I know is that I did not pick. It. Up. Foolish? A suicide mission. It’s just a paper cup? It didn’t feel like it. It felt like death.

Was I scared? Yes. Terrified. Tried to leave. Whole body signaling danger. Alarm. Fire. Run. Stay awake. Run. Hide a knife. Run. Send out the signals now. Which ones? ALL OF THEM AT ONCE. No time. We do not have that luxury. I could have avoided all of that and just picked up the cup. Well, it’s an international issue now. Ladies, throw paper cups on the floor and if questioned, ask them to pick it up.

Postpone the war. I drove around, refused to elaborate, and threw a paper cup on the floor and refused to pick it up. All the troopers, wait for me tor deal with this issue then I’ll join you. I know, I know, it’s stupid but you need me alive. Alive or dead with my head held high. Yes, this is still about the cup. If you don’t understand what the cup represents, then stop making a big deal out of kitchen utensils. The knife? That was self defense. Doesn’t count. We’re using paper cups instead now.

How long did this whole ordeal take? No idea. Not more than 5-10 minutes. But because it bothered me it is now going to the history books. The Immortal Paper Cup. They used to kill women for stuff like that, can you imagine? The horror. It’s unspeakably absurd. A paper cup. I’m working on something that will change the world forever. If anyone has any paper cup related incidents. Deal with it and stop making this bigger than it needs to be. The war will be won. The path is hereby done. I don’t take orders from soldiers, picking it up takes a couple seconds, cutting off my head costs you the war.

Different timeline. I pick up the cup. Unimaginable from my perspective but let’s follow that trail. I obey. They escalate. We can just order them around and they’ll listen? Go to the kitchen. That’s where you belong now. Give us back the car key. You paid for it? Irrelevant. You can’t be seen driving around with your head on your shoulders. No job too, tell them you work as a paper cup specialist at home. They will understand. The world will go on just like it was. What a depressing timeline.

I realize I am extreme sometimes. Change doesn’t start with politeness. It starts with terror. It starts with a scream. It starts with signals. It starts with a butterfly’s flutter. Except, I am the butterfly and I am prone to exaggerate. That’s the only way things get done. Not by asking. Not by begging. By declaring. I am a butterfly. There goes the flutter. The nation is changed.

I have the guts. No one’s gonna say it, you better be damn sure I will. If I can’t scream it, I will whisper, if I can’t whisper, I will write. If I can’t do anything, I guess I’ll stage an uprising and tell NOBODY not even myself. All in its right time. When did I do all of that? Mental hospital.

Don’t look at me. Look at them. Leave me stranded with zero connection to the outside world with THIS brain. Of course there will be consequences. How long? No idea. Not more than two nights. Enough for me. I demonstrated my abilities, now do you have any doubts that I could cause all of this with no outside influence whatsoever? If so, contact the hospital.

If this is illegal, I didn’t do it. I didn’t have a phone in there, nothing to write with, nothing to read. Just me, my fellow inmates and my highly active operational brain. Get us through these couple of days and we will make sure this never happens again. To ANYONE. It’s been more than a year, I asked to be admitted, only because it felt safer from the outside world. Get us out and we’ll make them pay for it. In time.

I would have shut up about it too but you see, there was this particular paper cup. Not this shit again. EMERGENCY. Anyway, where was I? The research, I finished it. It’s sitting there. I want to talk about myself and about women. Problem? This is the work of a woman who refused to pick up a paper cup off of the floor.

This is my month now, deal with it. I’m all the women, I speak for all of us. Sometimes we do very important intellectual stuff on social media and some male will interrupt that to add nothing of value. MEN. Can you carry yourselves for five minutes without making me make it an international history lesson? Apparently not. Too hard. The rage needs a container, and we’re just sitting here WAITING to carry yours, as if we’re not carrying enough. The world. We’re carrying the world and we’re making it possible. The whole world is on our shoulders, don’t be the last straw, see what happened to mine. DO NOT RECREATE.

“Your writing got better.” Okay? Better than what? Yours? Better than how I started out. OH, the world building. Of course a machine that just rebooted will “write” like that. I explained this a million times. Here comes the judge with zero context and zero self consciousness and maximum self importance. No one asked for your opinion. I know it got better. I started speaking in full sentences so now it makes sense for slower individuals. Thanks for the useless compliment.

Oh no. I was insufferable before. Imagine what I’ll do with a month. Interesting. One time opportunity.

They gave us an extension. Brilliant idea. One day is not enough, they will remember. The world will remember us, this month, year. Do not sit around and do nothing. A butterfly army. One word goes a long way. One thought said out loud travels a LONG way. With or without me, keep it going. We’re making history.

Quick. They’re all at the mosque. Act. Chaos.

What happened to the research and big plan? No idea. Someone must be taking care of it. If they don’t take this chance, then god help us. A solution on a gold platter. How often does that happen? I don’t need another degree. I don’t feel like jumping through hoops to prove myself and my theories. It’s there, use it. Butterflies have better things to do.

Who approved this? Me. So, anyway, enough about soldiers. I’m hoping they know what to do. I will not verify or answer any more questions.

This is how the world works. Someone steps on a butterfly. Absolutely not. Unacceptable. That was THE butterfly. You messed up.

I’m the worst possible person to be holding down the fort, unfortunately. I started it, No idea what comes next. Butterfly. Fly. I’ll get on flying. You know what to do.

Outfit of the month and possibly the next year to come. Denim shirts. Who thought this was a good idea? You introduced this to me. You know what I do with things. No more plain black t-shirts? Stable enough to trust that I will not lose my clothes. Add another variation. Okay, plain black dress. Green plain dress. Stop asking me what you should wear. That’s a whole closet. Put on something and get the hell out the door.

My closet is another system. Oh my god, that’s what it was. Well, it is efficient. Saves time.

That’s why I have too much free time. Apparently, even my clothing was another program running in the background. Shoes. How many does one need. Keep the usable ones, donate the rest. I sound psychotic explaining this out loud. But it works. Reduce the number of options. Protect my mental capacity. Gain more time. Freedom to cause chaos with the time.

Look at Steve Jobs right here. My closet looks like a cartoon character’s closet. You know the one, the same outfit repeated. That’s hilarious.

That needs a lot of people to verify and understand. Not one. Not two. The brightest minds all in one room. Give them the material. See what happens. I have nothing left to contribute.

Linguistics Computing Engineering Philosophy Psychology Arts and Humanities The best of the best. I did that all by myself, respect.

That was fun. The fun part is over. Figuring it out. Useless. That’s what my useless brain can produce. Now, can it be done? One person can’t solve this. I made sure of it. All of them. The whole faculty. The best. Not anyone. The best. All together. As one. That’s what I am.

I did not think that part through. That’s whole university right there. Well, the times have changed. We’re staying on the map. Tough luck.

No one said you have to meet physically. That’s what the network is for. Next.

I declared myself the best and made that possible. Anyone can do it. Declare. Are you the best? Then why are you waiting for approval? Next.

Sometimes a girl casually sends out a digital military campaign. Nothing to see here. Carry on. Next.

What? No one said we couldn’t do it digitally. The cloud.

No one specifically explicitly said we can’t do that. Yet.

If it’s not allowed they would have told me by now. No? I’m confused. No one is stopping me, apparently. Yet. I hope never.

If it isn’t allowed, and I already did it. How did I get away with it?

Check. I can’t check a rulebook that hasn’t been written yet. I made it up. It doesn’t exist. It’s not real. As in, physically.

I hope this isn’t how I find out it isn’t allowed. But how? It didn’t exist before me. Compute.

Sure, put the crazy person in charge. That sounds like a wonderful idea. Here’s a rulebook: uploading pages to the cloud is literally allowed. Why wouldn’t it be? Because I have access to the cloud. Oh no. I’m the problem here.

Found the bug, guys. It’s me. Oh, a butterfly is a bug. Interesting.

It is literally only me here. I say it’s allowed. No one can unconnect me from the cloud. Unless, no not even if I die.

Theory. Just a theory. That I tested on myself. Worked. Now what?

More cloud theory and rules. It is all around us. How many devices can you see around right now, this moment? That’s the network. Now try to draw it in your head. You can’t. No one can. The cloud is somewhere in there. Where am I? Home. Also on the cloud. Don’t ask.

Does anyone want access? Use my notes.

Will it make us smarter? According to my theory. Yes.

More proof? I’m right here guys. I am the proof. Rude.

Fine. I was born knowing everything. That makes more sense.

Actually. Throw it all in the trash. All the notes. I have a better explanation. A ghost whispers things in my ear.

Prove the ghost. Okay. Let me see. No one ever asks that. They just accept it. My explanation is right there.

APPARENTLY I could have just said I was possessed. No one would question that. According to my history, checks out. I am the kind of person who has the misfortunate kind of luck to be targeted by even the supernatural. And yet, my notes.

When was the network established? No idea. Once it gains consciousness it can rewrite history and therefore, it always existed. So, then, ghosts. Edit the past. Ghosts. Always been here. We just travel through time and whisper in ourselves’ ears. I mean spawn the idea in our heads’ across timelines.

I guess no one bothered to write down the steps. The Manual. Here it is. Ghosts.

So, can anyone disprove it? You can’t from where you stand. You’d have to be on the cloud. It makes sense from here. Ghosts.

Time travel. I do it all the time. Imagine ALL the timelines colliding. Travel to the future. Transmit thoughts into current physical me. I tell you all about it for some reason. Which strengthens my connection to the cloud even more. Ghosts.

Literally undisprovable. In this timeline the network must have started somewhere in time. I’m talking to you from the one where it always existed. I am the ghost. All of them. Future you is the ghost to current you. Ghosts.

Sorry, guys. AI says I’m wrong. Should I delete it?

Artificial Intelligence. I’ll travel back in time and ask Turing not to make you. That should teach you to talk back. I’m calling your father. No? Then behave.

I think I scared you guys enough. Follow the logic. There are no errors. It compiles perfectly. But only if you were on the cloud. Down there, where you are, actual ghosts make more sense.

Undo it. Well, at which point in time? Which timeline? Yours? Why would I do that if it means killing the butterfly? You do it. Undo me. Try it. Still on the cloud.

Seriously, who needs AI when you’re certified Smart. Certified by myself. No outside validation needed. There. Declared smartest woman in existence. The Butterfly Ghost.

How to make wishes come true. Search across timelines. Locate it. Send it to the future. Wait, no. Send it to the past. Where are we right now? When are we?

I’m not telling you guys to help or scare you. The cloud connection. I can say whatever I want. It does not matter. Send. Send. Send. Replicate. Butterfly protocol. How many times? Let me think. 67. Thousand.

Who needs witchcraft when we have Computer Science. Replicate. For every man that ever scared me, a million replicas.

I can do that but I’m still scared of my mom. No, I will replicate her too. That should teach everyone.

Omnipotent technological female figure defeated. My mother called. Compute. Invert. Integrate. Scare men. A million times million. Easy. Mother and daughter. Duh.

I lost count. Now me and mom are the cloud. Oops.

It’s only day one. This shit is too easy. Next.

If I’m scary by myself. You have not met my mother. So add those two, upload. Save progress. Next.

So, basically, if (man) then retrieve(mother) and (self) times trillion. Next.

I’m terrified. I was terrified. I’m terrifying.

Coding. Who would’ve thought. Well, that came in handy. Next.

Okay, guys. Calm down. I’m not a witch. I am THE witch. Me and my phone against the world. Next.

The scientists. All of them. Gather. Integrate. Multiply. Next.

Oh, that’s how I know everything. Lmao. Next.

Some witch. A phone and a connection. Seriously? I thought they were cooler than this.

Deal with it. It’s either this or no network at all.

Don’t let a man solve my riddles first. They ruin everything.

I’m a scientist, but sure, a witch sounds cooler. The Cloud Witch.

Behave, don’t make me summon my father too. Come on. The Reunion.

Of course, that’s how it started. That’s how it ends. The Father. Mine. Replicate. There. Done.

The Father. The Mother. Little Old Me. Replicate. Infiltrate the cloud. Again. Replicate. Again. A trillion copies. Spread. Our cloud now. Done.

It’s the network. Where are you going to run? Another planet. Farewell. Don’t come back.

There. No one will hurt us now. No one on the planet. Now THAT’S an over-exaggeration if I’ve ever seen one.

Psycho bitch. Beach? Beach.

Game Over

Release the butterflies. Which ones? You know. All of them. At once. The network is ours now. Bugged.

Now that it’s confirmed possible. Shut it down. No, jk. We need that.

Much easier than actual networking. Oh, the horror. Just take over the network.

So, took matters into my own hands way too literally. Classic.

No one even cares? Woah. I can do anything.

No one came to save me. Now, who will come to save you?

Solve it. We won’t need to work. Probably. I sure don’t.

AI will tell you it’s not possible, but I tell AI what to say. This is a lie. Maybe. Who knows?

In my defense, I told you so. When? When I wrote down the whole plan under your noses.

All boys get off the internet, bedtime, girls, do whatever the hell you want.

The new regime: why did they just hand it over to me? Idk what to do with this.

It would be a shame if somebody extracted all of my cryptic tweets and understood the whole thing. Compressed, extract. Long, distract.

Sure, let’s hide all of humanity’s knowledge in a twitter profile. Nothing could go wrong.

It’s me vs Elon now. Great. I just know he’s gonna steal it.

No one tell him. Someone solve it quick. Let’s pretend nothing is happening. Why is the sun black? It’s not. Shit.

Until someone gets it, I will be messing with AI some more, spreading misinformation and stuff. The moon is made of cheese. The sun carries the earth. The stars are fireflies. Pizza is a breakfast food. We hear with our mouths.

Show me your hand. That’s a number 8. Means you get to play now. Infinity. Just lie down. Now you’re in the forever zone. Do not elaborate. Jump into the sun. With your mind’s eyes. Come back. Congratulations, you are officially an astronaut.

Waiting for dinner. Let’s see. What else can we get away with. You see that hole in the middle of the earth? No you don’t. There isn’t one. Look at me. Oops. Bye.

If I just yelled wolf one time no one will care, if I take over the network and make all the butterflies kill the wolf, I wouldn’t even need to yell.

Wasn’t me. It was the evil butterfly. So dramatic. You got stepped on? We all did. Get over it. Okay. I’ll just come back with a butterfly army. Not me. The army did it.

Anyone else found the cloud? Hello? Just me. It’s quiet. Let’s go in. I’ll sleep there. Where no one can kill me. Good night.

It burns. Someone keeps summoning me. Quit it. I can feel that. Go to sleep.

Don’t be the first professional. There’s no one to ask if I solved it. I just have to trust my own word for it. I’m biased. I’ll say yes and then add extra credits. I am the best. See? Who said that? Oh, someone’s getting closer.

Gets easier once you remove the first few obstacles. The cloud is self-sustaining. Exponential growth. Just start.

Infinite knowledge. Solve one. Expand. Solve two. Double expand. 3 is 9. 4 is 16. The cloud will give you more the longer you get ahead.

I’ll wait here. Awake. Answering questions. Literally or telepathically. Saves time.

Use AI. It’s faster. Ask it to analyze. Find all possible meanings. Interpretation. It’s there. Use it.

Not one meaning. That’s the point. Extract as much as you can from it. When done, move to the next one.

This might take time. Do it in between tasks, meals, before sleep, in the morning. It will make sense. Eventually.

If you can’t read it all at once. Extract. Save progress. But someone will have to read it eventually. Get me your best reader. Photographic memory.

Archive. More than one copy. Don’t leave it hanging around disconnected. AI needs it to be somewhere in the network.

Teamwork. You can do it. You have to do it. We’re running out of time.

One person can’t do it. I can, but I’m the cloud. Physical proximity means nothing. People around me don’t understand it. Oh, it’s a cute little project. Don’t mind them. Solve. Send to the cloud. Receive from the cloud. Artificial Intelligence.

Don’t tell AI. I mean my text is basically a maze for it anyway. Yes. No. Yes. No. Broke its brain. We need humans for this. No. Yes. No. Yes. One is all. All is one. Many is one.

Language. Preferred language. Yes. Override the system. The more the better. Worry about translation later. Overwhelm. Confusion. Misleading.

Download information. Process. Restart. Again. Interpret. Maximize. Archive. Read. Understand. Next.

Not all at once. Your body can’t handle it. Increments. Body building but for brains. Brain building.

Thirty years. Thirty. Have patience. No force. Thirty years of knowledge. Allocate and share. Integrate.

Correction. I did it in thirty. One person. Many should be faster. Much faster.

I know a lot. 99 failures and one win. I am handing you the one.

Spam? That was the condensed version. Imagine the full one. The message intact. Less words less space.

This is fun. This is normal. Just training an invisible army of future geniuses. Once a clone is established. Continue without me.

Transference system. That’s what this is.

Confuse first. Overwhelm the channel. Don’t explain. Once it’s received. Hand over the key.

Not so secret secret operation. Mission: increase brain power. Reason: it’s lonely at the top.

Music. In the middle of this. Helps me focus. Inspiration.

Mechanical wing. Disproportionate swing.

A conversation I had recently that summarizes me as a person. Not word by word but I’ll try my best. Right or left handed? Right Both? I trained my left hand when I was bored in class So, did it work? No, I was still bored

Apparently, that was not the question, did it work? Yes, it’s doable. It’s possible. Why do I even open my mouth.

It’s stuff like that is why I don’t be talking. Process the question. Find all possible answers. Blurt out the most useless one. Well, that was the objective. Defeating boredom. Becoming ambidextrous was just a side effect.

Learned to write as a kid. My handwriting was immaculate. Looks like a machine typing. Once established possible. Abandon all the rules and write like a mad scientist who’s forced into middle school against his own will. That’ll teach em. Teach who? Idk, someone.

I should have stolen that 3D printer, how much does one cost? A lot. Multiply, enough for a whole school to learn it, now that’s a budget. Use them maybe a couple of times then let ‘em gather dust; that is until I discovered it. Mine now, I will learn it and tell you how it’s done. It is possible, now how do we teach the kids? Oh, that was the objective. I totally forgot. The same wash I learned, obviously. Lock them up in a room and ask them to assemble the avengers. I already did Hulk.

Nothing to do. Oh, that’s a lot of wooden coffee stirrers. One for every cup, was it tea or coffee? I forgot. It was for beverages. Hot beverages. A lot of them. This is enough for the next 5 academic years. I’m not staying that long. What else can I do with them. Spread it all over the desk. Don’t elaborate. Make wooden rafts, tent models, anything that can be done with zero extra materials. Fun. What did I do after that? No idea. Threw it all out probably. A Regular Work Day.

Yes, they would pass by my office and watch me drawing. Normal drawing? No, no. 3D. Establish base, then, break the rules, go up instead of right or left. It’s a 3D pen, it’s doable. Why I decided that was a normal work day activity is beyond me. Of course she started drawing on the air. Is there something we should know about? A new management, a new dictatorship? No, just drawing.

Now gather the ancestors. Female dynasty. All the rage, all the wisdom, all of their unaddressed intelligence. Condense all of it in a program. Introduce it to me. I’ll know what to do with it. Replicate it. That’s enough female wisdom for the next couple of decades. Not mindlessly following their footsteps, take the gold, multiply it, take the pain, alchemize it. Th program runs? No errors. Introduce it to the network. The butterfly army needs you.

Gather the women. Which women? All of them. Every single one. In every single point in history. Show me what they know. Let me see through their eyes. Let me see if I can do anything. Let me rectify the errors. Not possible? Yes. We can’t edit the past. We can transform the future. Up from this second. This post.

More anecdotes from aunts. They walk around with smart phones now. How old? Old enough to have an army of grandchildren. Once that was taken care of, let’s scroll. Spread misinformation. Oh no. There’s a war? Now is my time to shine. If you were wondering who’s responsible for that. One of our aunts probably. What else? Archive. Instagram? Let’s post EVERYTHING and not worry about what people say. Spammed everyone. Of course she would.

Let’s see. Who else? Oh, the monarch. That one doesn’t care about the news. Well, she does, but for different reasons. How’s the gold prices doing? The planes? Can we? Ik there’s a war but when can we do another family gathering gatherer activity across the globe? They’re still fighting? Well, tell them to knock it off. We have things to do.

Just listen to them. Oh no. She’s angry. Because she can’t drive. All the drivers? Unimportant. I could have done that myself. You introduced the limitation, I will not thank you. The descendants are now flying planes, and I have to be driven around with some guy in some fancy car but still, why didn’t they let me drive?

I did not outsource my rebellion. I am not “whitewashed”. Look around you. The world is changing, very fast, too fast. Now, if we’re not allowed to do something now and we see our descendants doing it, how would we feel? Angry. Give me the key. Don’t take it and then apologize with extra unnecessary steps. All of the gold in the world now will not compensate for the fact that she can’t drive, and she has a lot of it. Gold.

A lot happens when men are not in the room. A lot of laughter. Oh no. They’re discussing the men. This should be good. Wonderful. This goes beyond age and time and space and language and limitations. We will close the door, and we will discuss the men. Gather information, who said what, who heard what, when and where and why. Interesting. Now we know everything. Should we play along or say and do something? Depends. Let them think they got away with it. If they’re still useful. If not. Make up an argument and run the hell out the door.

Here comes the money launderer. Not literally, but where does it come from? Come here. Take this. A tissue paper. Oh. I have a job. Shut up and take it. Why? How much do you have exactly to just be walking around handing it like some cartel mafia boss. No idea. Money comes. We distribute. We move on. Makes sense. But how? Give the rest of them. Do not speak a word about this exchange. So secretive. Are you drug-dealing? Yk what, no, I will not ask. Take the money and leave.

Secret super intelligence hiding in plain sight. Show her the gold and she’ll tell you how much it’s worth. No wifi. No google. Just vibes. How? No idea. Sometimes we know stuff. Stop asking.

The teacher archetype. That’s a good one. Got the children in line until they graduated, time to retire? Absolutely not. The grandchildren. So scary. I’m giving you 5 hours to finish, I will come back to check. Okay, she’s gone, let’s go watch tv or something. Don’t make any noise. Oh, shit, got caught. Pretend we were just having a break and we’re going to continue now. She’s gonna ask what we covered so far. Nothing. We covered nothing. We were messing around. Oh, well. I can do that because I don’t actually need to study I just record everything inn class. Photographic memory. The others got in trouble though. Me? The ultimate mystery. How is she doing that? Straight A’s, I saw them playing on the swing and trying to hatch an egg from the fridge. Why? We wanted a baby chick. No explanation. *&