thoughts and ramblings

a little insight into the world of the developing schizophrenic...

Monday, August 16, 2004

august 16, 2k4

well, another day. i guess thats all we can call it. i'm stuck here, at home. going crazy. i can't get out and do anything. my mom doesn't understand, and i hate her. when something bad happens, and i do it, the problem is automatically mine. she can't look to understand that there might actually be a reason for what i do. she can't look to understand that what she does to me is making me hate my home, making me hate waking up in the morning, making me want to get out of the house. she can't understand that i hate her telling everyone everything that i do. people that don't need to know. people that i could care less about. there is a reason i have been the way i am towards her. but try telling that to her. she doesn't listen. the fault is never hers. she wants me to follow what she has planned out for me to the letter, and yet i'm the demanding one. its amazing. i keep referencing back to the hacker's manifesto. its a document that explains why people hack. why they do what they do. it fits me. i'm too far out there for most to understand. i need to find people i can relate to. there aren't many. and yet, for my curiosity, not just with computers, but with life in general, i am shut down and condemned for my actions. this is the document in its entirety:

\/\The Conscience of a Hacker/\/
+++The Mentor+++

Written on January 8, 1986

Another one got caught today, it's all over the papers. "Teenager Arrested in Computer Crime Scandal", "Hacker Arrested after Bank Tampering"...

Damn kids. They're all alike.

But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950's technobrain, ever take a look behind the eyes of the hacker? Did you ever wonder what made him tick, what forces shaped him, what may have molded him?

I am a hacker, enter my world...

Mine is a world that begins with school... I'm smarter than most of the other kids, this crap they teach us bores me...

Damn underachiever. They're all alike.

I'm in junior high or high school. I've listened to teachers explain for the fifteenth time how to reduce a fraction. I understand it. "No, Ms. Smith, I didn't show my work. I did it in my head..."

Damn kid. Probably copied it. They're all alike.

I made a discovery today. I found a computer. Wait a second, this is cool. It does what I want it to. If it makes a mistake, it's because I screwed it up. Not because it doesn't like me...
Or feels threatened by me...
Or thinks I'm a smart ass...
Or doesn't like teaching and shouldn't be here...

Damn kid. All he does is play games. They're all alike.

And then it happened... a door opened to a world... rushing through the phone line like heroin through an addict's veins, an electronic pulse is sent out, a refuge from the day-to-day incompetencies is sought... a board is found. "This is it... this is where I belong..."

I know everyone here... even if I've never met them, never talked to them, may never hear from them again... I know you all...

Damn kid. Tying up the phone line again. They're all alike...

You bet your ass we're all alike... we've been spoon-fed baby food at school when we hungered for steak... the bits of meat that you did let slip through were pre-chewed and tasteless. We've been dominated by sadists, or ignored by the apathetic. The few that had something to teach found us willing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.

This is our world now... the world of the electron and the switch, the beauty of the baud. We make use of a service already existing without paying for what could be dirt-cheap if it wasn't run by profiteering gluttons, and you call us criminals.
We explore... and you call us criminals.
We seek after knowledge... and you call us criminals.
We exist without skin color, without nationality, without
religious bias... and you call us criminals.
You build atomic bombs, you wage wars, you murder, cheat, and lie to us and try to make us believe it's for our own good, yet we're the criminals.

Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity. My crime is that of judging people by what they say and think, not what they look like. My crime is that of outsmarting you, something that you will never forgive me for.

I am a hacker, and this is my manifesto. You may stop this individual, but you can't stop us all... after all, we're all alike.

+++The Mentor+++

i just don't see what the big deal is. being right is overrated. admit you are wrong, move on. don't dwell on the past. its in the past. you can only learn from it, and move on. looking back on it over and over is no help. it will only drag you down. this would explain my mother. she never learned to let things go, never learned to move on. shes always trying to change herself, always trying to "better" herself. she's never learned to let things be as they are, accept them, and move on. everything could always be better, but she doesn't know how good she has it already. i've run my house for almost 10 weeks now, and i've been doing loads of housework before that so she could do homework. there would be so many parents that would appreciate me as a son. and yet, i get the one that always demands more and more. its the luck of the draw. i always have to deal with the hard way of life. nothing has ever been easy for me. sure, school, but thats not what i'm meaning. my home has always been a challenge. i've almost died because of it. i''ve been so comatose i could barely breathe, all because i didn't want to deal with it anymore. i've cut myself over and over, trying to make the pain in my mind go away with physical pain, something i could see, and feel, and would heal over time. the pain in my mind has never healed. every day, the scars come apart. the glue holding them together wears down. they bleed. over and over. i can't escape. just as one is done, another begins. its a never-ending cycle that won't quit until i am out of the house. away from the one thing that has made my life hell for 16 years. away from the yelling, the screaming, the blood, the mental wounds. every time i come home, i become a skeleton of what i once was. i die on the inside. my eyes turn grey from the lack of life. its dull, dreary. its not a home to me anymore. a home is a place where you are safe. a place where you know you can turn even when life is at its worst. i don't have that here anymore. i feel more welcome in my girlfriends house than i do in my own. they love me. they want her and i to get married. it will happen. my mother on the other hand, protests it up and down the wall. she says i'm throwing my life away. i'm not. i'm throwing the life SHE had planned for me away. its not for me. i will assert my individuality. i will become my own person. i won't be told what to do or how to do it. i am old enough to make my own decisions. i know what is best for me. i know what i have lived. she doesn't. she didn't notice my depression. she didn't notice the scars on my arms, my legs, my face. she didn't notice my lack of sleep. there were so many signs that she missed. and yet she says she is there for me. i won't tell her what is wrong. i don't want her involved. i'm not going to cut myself and then go up to her and show her what i did. i want to be left alone. and i have been. when i'm not. people find out. people look at me funny. i get judged because my mom only tells her side. my life is public domain. and its bullshit. she wants to think she's there for me. she's not. she never knew what happened to me, what i thought, what i did. she never bothered to know. she never had time for me. never had time to sit down and talk. and now, she thinks i can just sit down and open up. i can't. i won't. not to her. she was never there in the past. what makes now different. i hate her. she is so full of double standards. she wonders why i am the way i am. she's lost me. i have no feelings for her. no love. she could die tomorrow, and i wouldn't shed a tear. i would be happy because the one person in my life causing me sadness would be gone. i would have no more negative in my life. so much would be better. i guess its just too much to hope for.

and for those of you wondering how good of a son i am, remember this:
"the bible says to honor thy father and thy mother, it doesn't say you have to love them"


posted by quinn  # 9:18 AM


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