Welcome to my glamorous life as a reluctant cast member in a real-life crime-thriller-meets-comedy, filmed live in the streets of a “totally-not-suspicious” city.
You know the kind — where corruption oozes out of the sidewalks, crime networks own more businesses than actual businesspeople, and dirty intelligence agents pretend to be anything.
This is the story of my life — or what’s left of it between dodging stalkers and losing jobs to cartel coverups.
☠️ Meet My Stalker: The Man, The Myth, The Smirker
He’s always there. I walk out of my apartment, and BAM — there he is.
Mr. Smiley McCreep. Grinning like he just saw his favorite conspiracy theory come true.
He lives across the street. Or maybe it’s just one of his portals.
Honestly, I think he has a teleportation device.
No matter which route I take — straight, sideways, parkour — he finds me like a glitch in the Matrix with an unhealthy obsession.
Yesterday I outsmarted him. Or so I thought. Took a side alley with no cameras, no witnesses, no pigeons. Felt like James Bond.
Until he showed up mid-alley, smiling like it was our scheduled coffee date.
Creepy? Yes. Coincidence? Not a chance.
🧾 My Resume?
A Criminal Documentary
I’ve worked in so many “normal” places that turned out to be fronts for organized crime, I should add Organized Crime HR Survivor to my LinkedIn.
You try to get a job, pay rent, and build a future.
But somehow every job I land is conveniently crawling with shady characters, bugged boardrooms, or intelligence agents pretending to sell insurance.
I’ve basically worked for every acronym you’ve never heard of.
👮♀️ Police?
Oh, You Sweet Summer Child
“Just go to the police,” they say.
Sure! Let me just walk into that nice building run by the same people organizing my misery.
The guy behind the desk is probably in five group chats with my stalker, my HR, and an International smuggler named “Godknowshow”.
You report a crime, they nod, smile, and then forget your name — unless it’s to add you to their watchlist.
Spoiler: there is no help.
🙃 Trust Is Dead. Long Live Craziness.
I used to be open. Trusting. Social. I had conversations. Friends. Faith in humanity.
Then I met Reality: Population “Me”, and about 400 corrupt “coincidences.”
Now I trust no one. And I highly recommend it.
In this city, “trust” is a tool. People will use your honesty to twist you into knots and sell the footage to the highest bidder.
Once trust is gone? You can’t work. Can’t talk.
Can’t even take a peaceful walk without wondering who’s watching and what script you missed.
📣 Dear World: I See You Laughing. But I’m Not Joking.
Yes, it sounds funny. Like a movie. But that’s the point. They want you to think it’s all a joke. That I’m the crazy chick.
But behind the absurdity, there’s truth: a deep, rotting system where crime is the system.
Where the only safe people are the ones who’ve given up everything — including their lives.
They call it “order.” I call it psychological warfare with a public socialist system.
🎤 Final Word From Your Local Conspiracy Victim
They said: “You’re crazy.”
I said: “Crazy people don’t collect photographic evidence and pattern analysis spreadsheets, Komrad Milady with a dick”
They said: “You’ll be safe if you just obey.”
I said: “I’m allergic to blind obedience. Also, the Wi-Fi is terrible in fear socialist prisons.”
They want silence. I’m choosing voice.
This post? It’s for the others.
The watchers, the followed, the “coincidence victims.”
You’re not alone.
And you’re not crazy.
You’re just stuck in a city that runs on crime, smiles, and the loud hum of dirty socialist surveillance .
Peace, good “craziness” , and plotting escape routes,
— StoriesofStories
📸 P.S. Yes, I have pictures. No, I won’t post them here — yet.