I have names but I do not know who these people are. Watching me. Waiting. Waiting for what, I have no idea. You cannot control whatever face the lurkers who think they know you – these people often believe we were in intimate relationships – and they will paint your smiley with Nothing Could Be Further From Reality. As this. Works both ways. No one knows exactly what reality is. You do not know me. Stop asserting that you do. You don’t know who Boo Radley is. If I don’t know them, how is it that they know me. You cannot manage the crimes that they want to shove down your throat. You cannot control whatever face they want to paint you with. They are ubiquitous. You can, however, control whether or not you are walking into any of the traps they set. Some traps are constructed by singular individuals. Sometimes one hater finds another, and both sides can claim moral vindication. One way to become aware of them is analytics. I can see whoever hits on me, and where they are from. The lurkers who keep coming back, and coming back, who can’t seem to get enough, accumulate their numbers in a special box designed just for them. Insinuating a voracious bitterness that has damaged everything they are about. Not everything they see is about them, and them alone, it is a self-created fantasy, I choose who I am intimate with, I am the one who cherry picks his relationships, and none of them are the furies of the Internet. All my life, there have been haters who hate me, all of them live in this black and white little world where no one dares to question much. You can stare at the characters they create who are supposedly you, but there will be no there there, or anyone who can recognize themselves.