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You Deserve Whatever You Get: Hornets' Nest"Why do you provoke them? Why slap the hornets' nest?", you said condescendingly.
I don't deserve to have places where I vent on the internet suddenly become the domain of others.
I don't deserve to now be afraid that some poorly written poem or crazy story I post on an art site, where I go for cathartic release, to fuel some sick retribution - by a gang of internet bullies who think other people's lives are theirs to play games with - against those I care about.
I don't deserve to fear for the safety of my partner and her child because of a comment - pointing out the limited view and/or hypocrisy of an authoritarian - that I made on an internet newspaper site.
I've done nothing to deserve having my life invaded and the personal information of those I love exposed to gods only know who.
I don't deserve to have my freedom to express myself stripped away like this.
You Deserve Whatever You GetWith a coldness in your voice that cut as deep as the words, you said, "You deserve whatever you get!" I beg to differ.
I didn't deserve to have every e-mail address I've ever had hacked in the last year.
I didn't deserve to have my phone - that I depend on for calls from work - cloned.
I didn't deserve the loss of thousands of dollars of work that stemmed from that cloning.
I didn't deserve being labeled unreliable by employment contacts because I didn't answer or return phone calls that I didn't find out until weeks later that I'd missed.
I didn't deserve to have my struggling small business crushed in that manner.
Nor did I deserve to have hundreds of dollars worth of my equipment stolen because some miscreants decided "It's Adventure Time!".
When I disagreed with your heartless statement, I didn't deserve your hateful response, "You always have to be right!" because you know it's a damned lie.
I've not deserved the distrust and disrespect that I've been repeatedly shown by so
The TrundlerThe waste land behind the fire station is always silent. No birds sing there, and even the wild rabbits and feral cats avoid it. Weedy wildflowers nod their seasonal heads in the breeze. Lying fallow in the midst of housing developments, shopping malls, the new movie theater — the vacant lot stands out like a knife wound on a woman’s placid face, shocking, brazen, ugly.
It is always empty. Except for one thing: a ragged heap of old trash, all nasty black tar paper and vicious snarls of rusted wire, car parts and broken glass and other junkyard jetsam. The embodiment of injury waiting to happen, an invitation to a tetanus shot... the city never hauled it away. No one ever wants anywhere near it; it radiates an eerie sense of calculating watchfulness.
And at night, it wanders.
When darkness falls, and the last cars heading into the hives of tract housing stop illuminating the asphalt with moving-picture shadows, it… unfolds. Bitter, broken tangles, grotesquely mov
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More