Stalking talk
Oh my. I'm starting to realize that celebrating one's blogiversary is so 2004 and people were just dedma. Sorry! I felt like watching a petunia flower after a decade of frigidity and celebrate, or better yet, interring a neopet and playing a funeral march midi. Not that I mind about it, but sometimes I do when I feel my hits are going zilch.
On to more relevant topics. I almost had 15 minutes of fame as the anti-stalker bill was tackled on GMA's Saksi last Monday. I got a call from Ederic on my way home that they will be interviewing me on my stalker experience for the primetime, but it would be impossible to field a reporter down south in a Jesus Jones situation*.
I'm slightly hesitant at doing the interview, even if I may be behind a screen, my voice morphed or my face bitmapped. To hell with the notion that I shouldn't think about what people might be thinking, I really mind. An average Joe like me can have stalkers too just like John Lennon. And you.
If I feel like it, I put on my bragging rights list that there really was a time when somebody was leaving indecent offers on my mobile, culminating in a sexed-up call from the same person while I was having a presentation. Ego booster for the down times. I was a sex god and the lines were full.
I had two types of stalkers and they were both biologically male. Stalker #1 started out with a number he hacked from his ex-boyfriend. Faceless. He was the one who made the phone call while having an orgasm. Meeting him to end it all was like a trip to the dentist--to remove anything that pains, make an appointment. Stalker #2 was a participant in a business deal, had friends in my social network that made him know what I ate for lunch and what I did with who and who. Took me a while to put off #2 because of the business (which did not fly at all later because I was a Code of Conduct believer) and the circle of friends.
Knowing him knowing what I was doing made me paranoid day in day out.
Confronting the stalker helped much but did not solve the issue, my personal issue. While my eyes opened up to the psychology of stalking, that they want somebody else to fill in what they lack, I became vulnerable and was even thought of as accomodating, and abusive at the
extreme. Stalker #2 sent me a SIM card because I excused that mine was malfunctioning (one thing sure about stalkers is that they have alternative communication channels) and I was labeled a user.
Ah, the unexpected benefits of being a stalkee.
While I was reaping on the pro part, I never had any life-threatening stalker-induced on the con. Almost, but it was avoided. Honestly it pricked my ego balloon as I thought that killing me wouldn'tve been of value since there will be no celebrity media mileage to talk of.
It was tantamount to terrorism, stalking won over me. Thus, this relatively new blog and the old ones under the veil of unsearchable usernames. There it is, two years of blogging and a half spent hiding. While I am not active in promoting this blog to fend off future instances of stalking (look at me, I am sooo assuming), I take on every opportunity to boost and let my hair down (nagpapahaba ng hair).
Humility is so difficult a word for me to pronounce, my learning curve is always flat.
*"Right Here, Right Now"--Jones' local one-hit wonder.
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Item #5 is "Letting Love Go" by EBTG. I can understand why no one got this B-side in the first place. Congratulations for being so honest and too good to avoid googling it.