I have to keep my dark sense of humor (dark and twisted as it may be) in order to survive the reality that is soooooo fucked up no one believed me until they saw the paperwork with their own two eyes.
Back in 2009, everyone from my Congressman to my councilman was trying to figure out what the fuck happened and why no one picked up on it earlier. My Congressman (Representative Jim Cooper) who gave me an A- when I took his course at the Owen Graduate School of Management at Vanderbilt University confessed to me that my case was so complicated that he could think of an attorney who would be able to understand the myriad of legal complexities as well as I could; and therefore could not make a referral-- nor could he help me find any resolution to this unprecedented comedy of errors.
So these are the things I write about... very funny to watch or listen to but a very painful reality to live with, thus the name Reality Bytes.
I actually got a parking ticket once for not parking between the lines. How many people can say that?
So the events of my life are unfolding down to the tiniest detail such as the fact that my social security number was reissued in another state four years after I was born.
So even if it is all in my head, or I'm making it up to test a new screenplay, I can say that whoever gets the story, it is a win-win.
Because if it is true, it is a wild fucking story of power and corruption and the real cost to the average citizen like myself. If it's not true, then it is such a good story anyway that nothing else matters,
Instead of being silenced or accused of being crazy and delusional, I will be celebrated for being creative and brilliant. But even the most brilliant among us would have to be either pretty resourceful or pretty bored to construct such a detailed and compelling story.
Many people have heard my story or read bits and pieces; and maybe it touches them for a second or two. Others become obsessed with the finest details of my life from what I'm wearing to what I am watching on TV that they lose sight of the fact that I am a real person dealing with real issues and not a muse or comic book character here for their entertainment. People have sold T-shirts with my name on it, created fake podcasts and many people are profiting off my name, likeness, and original works.
That makes me sick.
So many people think I am a fictitious character, and others have created fake accounts using social engineering and fake identities with complete disregard to how it effects ones life to have 65 fake ELyssaD's posing for webcams and creating fake identities to promote their own agendas, albeit money, entertainment, or just for the Lulz. They don't know what it is like to see all of your accomplishments and professionalism turned into joke and seeing fake notices of your death or finding that all publications are systematically being destroyed to cover up for their reckless and ILLEGAL behavior.
TAX DAY FOR THE 501(C) LULZ
ONE LOGIN = ONE FELONY.
But I don't see anyone being held accountable for destroying my intellectual property, my reputation or my credibility.
SOCIAL ENGINEERING FOR LULZ
Ultimately, it doesn't make a difference to the casual observer what it actually feels like to be living with this knowledge and grave injustice day in and day out year after year with no end in sight.
POLICE CORRUPTION: THE CRIME THAT WON'T GO DOWN
So for those of you who are taking a moment to walk in or out of my life, take a deep breath and thank your lucky stars for whatever family, friends, or neighbors you have in your life to keep you safe.
Jew for Justice: Finding my Religion
And maybe, just maybe, you will appreciate your world and your life just a little bit more today by taking a glance into mine.
SO, I will leave you with that little bit of insight into the one (and only) ELyssa Danielle Durant in the United States of America today because I am tired of people asking all the wrong questions, and both disgusted and bored by those who can't tell the difference between me and the countless fakes that have been created online to discredit me and entertain the blind masses.
In reality, people are overly concerned with the most insignificant, fictitious, or inconsequential things they have read or heard online or from the many people who claim to "know" me that I sometimes wonder if anyone really knows me at all with the exception of maybe one or two people that see me for who I am and what I represent.
WRITING WRONGS
So let's be real for a minute... many of you see me as a casualty, or desperately cling to any faults I have: real, imagined, or manufactured. Others are desperately hoping I am either crazy, stupid, or somehow so far from normal so you can go on believing that I somehow got what I deserved.
The Really, Really Giving Tree
But most of you need to believe that I am somehow profoundly different from what you see in the mirror, because chances are I am smarter, prettier, and better educated than the majority of people reading this.
And the very thought of someone who comes from a wealthy, well educated, well respected, well known family who attended the best schools and the best parties, could fall so far from grace scares the living crap out of you.
So don't leave me insincere messages or send me e-vites to rooftop parties or any of that other bullshit.
Because I remember each and every single one of you and I don't remember too many of you lifting a single finger to help me when I was diagnosed or needed a ride to surgery when they found the lump in my breast or the 14mm tumor on my spine.
What I do remember are the whispers behind my back after I lost my home, my job, my car, and any respect I ever had for those of you who didn't think to call me or lift a finger to help.
People of privilege, people on the "A list" people who knew me for fifteen years or longer found it easier to believe that I had lost my mind rather than pick up the phone or come see me when my story went public.
People in mansions and penthouses who couldn't even help me by taking in my cat until I found a safe place to live... or people who were too busy to call me, but NOT to busy to ask for my support [publicly] to further their political careers.
So, let's face it, unless you are prepared to help find me a job, or donate a few hours of tech support, or look me in the eye, don't expect me to donate money or my time to your campaign. I'd rather cash in on a tell all book about all you fuckers who still think it can't happen to you.
So to all of you A-listers, guess what... I'm back. And worse... I moved into your little gentrified neighborhood. I remember everything, so here's to you Mrs. Robinson....
So ask me no more questions about what happened, or where I disappeared to for the last three years while I fought tooth and nail to stay alive in the very worst of circumstances in a city that is so corrupt, it makes LA and Philly look good.
POLICE CORRUPTION: THE CRIME THAT WON'T GO DOWN
Besides, unless your prepared to help me find work or have the authority to fix whatever it is that is broken in the "system" that allowed this to happen IN YOUR BACKYARD, then you really have no business questioning my actions or motives.
CIA CORRUPTION IN TENNESSEE
See you soon.... let this be your only warning. You know how to reach me. You just don't know how to reach inside yourself.
^ed over and out.
NOTE TO SELF: don't edit simple blog posts on tax day! ;)
ps The book deal WILL be scandalous. So unless your initials are JY, RB, AD, EK, RLC, DD, JK, GA, GP, FH, BT, good luck with that.... paybacks are a bitch, and so am I! *WINK*
