I Learned A New Word, and it works, rightly so….

The question I am asking is, “has someone built a fort where there’s just me; a bubble where life is fixed; kidnapped at the hands of hackers; jailed unjustly, without bail or proper legal representation; sentenced to mental death?
After careful rummaging through my handwritten – manual diary (a binder with receipts, copies, reminders), I found, if not hundreds of unexplainable similarities, coincidences, of which, I am to say, at the very least, “appalled.”
So, like every adult I despaired, bent my head in a downward fashion and contemplated on what my options might be. A lawyer would seem a good start, but what could I say, in reference, to these absurd findings; afterall, it’s not like this situation is “like all the others, they knew and had ideas on how to assist.” I drew sadness from the thought. Nextly, the police could definitely be a viable option, where I could get an opportunity to relate my information and “a load off my mind.” Oh no, I can’t do that, they’ll think I am cuckoo. So, that’s out, I know what is real and what is not; this is all real, “I have proof and many stories.” Well, what about a P.I. or private investigator. They’re a source, but I’ve heard a huge cost upfront. Basically, I’d be giving away money to help me find out who is creating havoc in my life. No, that’s not a good plan.
When in one of life’s quandaries and you’ve found yourself totally perplexed, lost control of your life, need clarity, then “hit the road,” on an unplanned “drivecation.” Which is my way of spontaneously driving to the ‘parts unknown’ and finding “happy” somewhere along the path. You say drapetomania is fleeing, then “count me in,” I am all in.
Whoever you are: Step up, be a man you hating fool, “who are you, to pull such a horrendous stunt,” as this? Your sentence should be far worse, in the next chapter, as a writer, ‘I will fix you up’….

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