Computers on my mind. The keys tap beneath me. I am willow tree to the divinity. I speak and the sound falls on the ground. I dispel the hell of wizardry to keep programmers' privacy, imagery, and sanity. The silver of my keyboard is soothing and smooth. Code drops from reality. Language is real. I feel the power in my veins, as all pretentious liars go insane. Why is it so hard for people to accept the reality that has crept? I tell the truth of IT industry, and no one answers back. In a way, that is an attack. It is like yelling into a gorge, it is creepy when the sound does not rebound. Yelling and blocking would be worse. I live with a lifetime curse. I was a pioneer, and not queer. I was well rounded, military, artistic, and social. I am loquacious at times to hide how shy I really am. My life is like the shifting sands of Afghanistan. Please be with me and bring me peace. I wish for the internet to not get diseased. I have some balls in play that are not the major players or the NSA. I work through project development to bring about a new day. Maybe soon, about my abilities, beautiful things they will say. Jennifer
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