“It occurs to me that the good guys don’t move without consent, so, this is an official statement;
I, hereby invite and consent to benevolent hacking of all accounts and devices past and present, for the purposes of;
*Protecting me from the nefarious hackers/trackers that have done so much damage to my life
*Collecting evidence to prove the facts of my victimization & innocence relative to the allegations held against me
*Reverse engineering the abuses
*Reuniting me with my lost loved ones
*Reclaiming my lost data including DNA, artwork, ideas, and contacts
I have gone through countless e-mails and numbers over the past year attempting to innocculate.
I am the only person in the world with my name
I am currently held at vgh with falsified medical records
I would provide further detail given secure means by which to transfer information that does not understimate the breadth of resources and tactics of this antisocial network.
I beg of you, obi wan, you’re my only hope”
X recoiled in hindsight to her plead. How had she come to compulsively write casual contracts, requesting and consenting to such things. She was desperate and just couldn’t think of what to do. Every failed attempt became more creative and compulsive, with additional considerations. So many of those considerations and attempts were formed in response to things that happened on her possessed phone.
X was still left with her initially stated problem. The good guys were following the rules. The bad guys were making them.

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