So, some people might wonder what my involvement was with Anons because I have a chapter in my book dedicated to them.
Well, I always liked the idea of remaining anonymous. Personally, I think that is a great way to go. It has mystery around it. You know. I mean, who wrote it… anonymous. No credit. No arrogance. No money. It was anonymous.
I also like the idea of moving together without restraints. However, sometimes that can get.. out of control. I see that now.
I admit I had a lot of fun with Anonymous back in 2008. It was a great time. Yes, they did come to me for advice. Yes, I did my best to assist. I won’t lie. I also offered editing assistance to biella. That was before her writing days at Wired, when I could still reach her.
I’m kind of like a dark shadow in the Copyright/Linux/Hacker world. I never amounted to much but did a ton of work. No one really knows who I am but if you need help, I’m right there. My one friend of so many years said, “Why do you help? You should stop that.” I cannot. It is what makes me who I am. I am heated with passion to serve. It is a fault. I am not rich. I am not famous. I lead a simple life. In fact, I am amused sometimes at how people perceive me.
Success in terms of finances and fans might be nice, considering my friends/peers are now so high up the ladder, I cannot even reach them anymore. I think that is the most difficult part of not moving up as they did. I cannot just call or email them. It’s kind of hard for me in that sense. I feel cut off and disconnected.
As a copyright geek/activist, it is not easy to relate to other people. Sometimes, I feel so alone. With my friends/peers unreachable, it makes it even more difficult. I made a terrible mistake on one hand of trying to live a “normal” life. 8 years was a long time to be out of the game. When he found out what I had done with regards to activism and such he wanted to believe that was just in my past.
How can you bottle up such passion?
I was with him and there was none.
Anytime something happened, my passion wanted to explode with bursts of activism and protest.
When justice was not served, my blood boiled but then, was cooled by his icy stare.
Ultimately, the passion within prevailed and he was gone.
Could I go another year without allowing myself to be my true self out loud?
Could I go another year sitting in chat with Anons and skyping for lulz without waking him?
Could I go another month without talking to someone about copyright?
Could I spend one more night with my tear soaked pillow wishing I was brave enough to be me?
No. Not one more minute. Not one more second.
-me