The Princess Project: Stalker Alert


I have a stalker. Yup, I do. I used to think stalkers were something that only the rich and famous could suffer from. And to be absolutely honest, I was not very sure why the rich and famous made such a big deal about it. Until I got my very own special stalker.

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This Internet. And the mobile telephony. I tell you, technology has brought a whole new level to trouble.

See my work for a publishing house places me at the forefront of all contact between the public online and the company. I deal with inquiry emails, submission emails, angry emails, happy emails, weird emails; and I have to respond to all with professional courtesy and polite patience. PR, you see.

I also handle said company’s social media content. So I am on Facebook, Twitter, wherever else as a brand advocate. And this brings me in touch, well virtual online touch, with lots of people, some not so nice people, and a whole lot of crazy ‘should-be-locked-up-and-key-thrown-away’ people.

I am a writer, to be more precise a blogger. That separate from my job. This compounds the privacy issue. For a long while, I have tried to keep my personal life very very private. I don’t even let people know where I live. I know, crazy right? Dude, you are a blogger, writer, your job is to let people know what you think and where you’ve been. Still, I try really hard to separate my writing/blogging persona from the real me, so I can protect my privacy to a certain degree.

But apparently, I have not been able to protect my privacy too well. So this dude decided to change our relationship from the professional editor and writer status, to god-knows-what. And to make things really bad, he has my phone number, email, facebook, twitter…

At first, he would just send me text messages at odd times. Then he went through the call-me-for-no-apparent-reason-at-really-bad-times-of-the-day. Then he’d send me weird emails, like we were absolute ‘best friends forever’.

I got to tell you there’s a whole wide chasm between friendly and stalking friendly. See, you meet someone, online or live-live, and you like them, you don’t get miffed if they call you.  But there’s common courtesy even then. You don’t call people after work hours unless they are friends. You don’t call people after 9pm unless they are family and family friendly. You don’t call people who are not your friends to find out where they are going for the weekend and with whom!

So I stopped taking the calls. He started texting me. Same same. After a while, I blocked his number.

He switched to Facebook & Twitter, and I blocked him there as well. So now, he has switched to using my job to get at me.

One of my weekly tasks is to write and send out the Writers’ Blog. As you may know the Writers’ Blog is fed by reader content. So guess what’s happening now. Dude is now writing stories that feature me as the protagonist, or antagonist.

A while back, he raped and killed a character named after me. Now, he is romancing a character named after me.

It occurs to me that this man is a likeable fellow, seeing that he has friends, some whom even I know. I don’t like him, and I have never met him!

It also occurs to me that this man is probably usually a decent rational man. So what the hell is he doing on crazy lane?! Does he even know that he crossed over?

So I decided to spend a few minutes looking up the different types of stalkers. Here’s what I came up with:

The Erotomaniac: This kind of stalker believes that he is in love with you. To show his keen interest, he keeps calling you, dropping by, writing e-mails, doing unsolicited errands “on your behalf”, talking to your friends, co-workers, and family, and, in general, making himself available at all times. The erotomaniac feels free to make for you legal, financial, and emotional decisions and to commit you without your express consent or even knowledge. The erotomaniac intrudes on your privacy, does not respect your express wishes and personal boundaries and ignores your emotions, needs, and preferences. To him – or her – “love” means enmeshment and clinging coupled with an overpowering separation anxiety (fear of being abandoned). He or she may even force himself (or herself) upon you sexually.

 

The Narcissist: Feels entitled to your time, attention, admiration, and resources. Interprets every rejection as an act of aggression which leads to a narcissistic injury.  Reacts with sustained rage and vindictiveness. Can turn violent because he feels omnipotent and immune to the consequences of his actions.

The Psychopath (Antisocial): Psychopaths regard other people as objects to be manipulated and instruments of gratification and utility. They have no discernible conscience, are devoid of empathy and find it difficult to perceive other people’s nonverbal cues, needs, emotions, and preferences. Consequently, the psychopath rejects other people’s rights and his commensurate obligations. He is impulsive, reckless, irresponsible and unable to postpone gratification. He often rationalises his behaviour showing an utter absence of remorse for hurting or defrauding others.

The psychopath fails to comply with social norms. Hence the criminal acts, the deceitfulness and identity theft, the use of aliases, the constant lying, and the conning of even his nearest and dearest for gain or pleasure. Many psychopaths are outright bullies.

There’s different ways to deal with stalkers. You can find a few on this site which I found to be very informative. But I think the important issue here is: Do your actions make you fall in any of the above categories?

Just so you know, stalking is a crime, stalkers are criminals.

In this New Age Media era, what is the acceptable code of conduct on the email, phone or social media?

And now to last week’s ezine:

Every Word Part One – Creekside Princess Episode 4

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell – @Chiira in the Office

The Weave : Wonder or Worry – Beautiful Inside Out with Imani Opar

This is Where I am – Society & Identity With Brenda Angwenyi

20th March 1970 – The IvoryPunk’s Twilight Zone

Nothing to Write Home About – Paper Mache with @Soul_Fool

We hope that you will have a wonderful and creative week!

The Princess Project (K) Team.

 

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The Princess Project: Giving Up My Halo


Written by Sheblossoms


 

My friends always complain that I tell them about the horror of a bad Lupus episode after the fact rather than during. What’s the point of dragging you into my personal twilight zone when you could be busy working and making money to take me for that coffee, or to buy me that really cool laptop I want? Tehee! Expensive bitch friend from hell. Besides, I spent 3/4 of the time on the floor puking my guts out because I reacted badly to the meds. You really don’t want to be puking when you have pneumonia. ‘Pain’ doesn’t quite cover it.

One of the horrors of long distance love, is that sometimes you are in an ‘God I don’t want to die alone’ moment, and you realize that although you have everyone else around you; some even unwanted, the one person whom you’d want to be next to you right then, is a few hundred kilometers away. And then there’s the usual me who sometimes wakes up and wants to go through hell without any witnesses. Trust me, when your tummy is running a hundred miles a minute you really don’t want anyone watching.

Poor GB, how he even figures out what I want, or need I just have no idea. And sometimes, like this past week, he figures out that although I want to be left alone to puke my guts out, I actually need someone to watch reruns of ‘How I met your Mother’ with, and to read verses from Khalil Gibran’s poetry.

Beauty XXV

And a poet said, “Speak to us of Beauty.”

Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide?

And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?

The aggrieved and the injured say, “Beauty is kind and gentle.

Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us.”

And the passionate say, “Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.

Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us.”

The tired and the weary say, “Beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit…”

No I don’t need to perfect, and strong, and brave, all the time. Sometimes, I’ll give up my halo, and lie on the floor puking my guts out. He’ll hold my hand, while my mother shouts from the other room that he should convince me to try and drink the horrid tasting soup. And then when it’s over, at least for the time being, he’ll clip on my wings for me and watch me soar, again.

What I’d like him to know, and I think I tried to say it rather ineffectively [hey, I have a gift with written words, not spoken ones] is that I’ll be there when his halo falls off. I’ll hold his hand until its time for him to clip on his wings and fly. And when he flies, I’ll be the loudest cheering voice of them all. Just like he has been for me all these years.

But enough about me, let’s take a look at last week’s magazine.

Just so you know, the fourth episode of The Creekside Princess 3 begins this week, so be sure to catch up with the third episode:

Dirt Room Part One
Dirt Room Part Two
Dirt Room Part Three

Then we had articles by your favorite authors:

1. The Greek Coffee and the Creek Side Reading Geeks with Roundsquare Chumo

2. A C Lifestyle – Chronic City with Nyambura Kiarie

3. Goodbye My Lover, Goodbye My Muse with Brenda Angwenyi

4. Rude awakening – The Cherub on the Other Side with the Ivory Cherub

5. Dining your Fears – Paper Mache with @soul_fool

Have a great week everyone!

The Princess Project: Boulevard of Broken Dreams


By Njeri Athena

 

I have been having this recurring dream lately. In that dream, I own this beautiful house, I have a hot car… I have it all. For someone who has seen dream after dream crash in front of her eyes, it’s a wonder I can still dream.

Lately it feels like I have been walking on a ‘boulevard of broken dreams’. I remember those days when I dreamt big. I had the course I wanted to pursue in mind; I knew where I wanted to be by a certain age. I knew when I would settle down, where I would live, when and an ideal ‘whom’ that I would have a family with, the places I’d travel to… I had it all figured out. This would happen after this, and then this would follow, in that order.

Time passes by and still no step has been made in the right direction. Nowadays, all I live for is harsh reality. Life becomes a little harsher than it ever was in the sheltered Catholic school that you basically grew up in.

But surely, we all need something to help us wake up in the morning. Like in high school, I used to inspire myself to wake up by closing my eyes for a few minutes and thinking of all the good things that would come my way after I attained the ultimate grade. That would instantly power me up to brave the cold shower at 5 a.m. and be in class on time.

Nowadays, I have to force myself up, face my demons every day. I get haunted by my broken dreams, but I have to pretend that I am okay even when I feel bogged down.

So what happens when you have no mojo in you anymore?What happens when your every effort seems futile? How do you wake up, what drives you during the day?

I just want to be able to believe in my dreams once again.

And on the PPK e-zine this week;

First, Two Parts of the third Episode of The Creekside Princess.

Dirt Room Part One: The plan to get Michael on a lesser charge seemed inadequate to Gaby. He had killed severally and once in front of Gaby. And these manly men want to nail him on tax evasion?! On top of that, using her ‘tits’ to seduce information out of a stupid thug? Why not use Sam? She was the Queen of Flirt and Bizarre. Read this part.

Dirt Room Part Two:I usually pay attention to his reading but today is the first day of menses, four more days to go. The first is usually the hardest. The flow is heavy. I can feel it, warm and thick, dripping on the cotton wool, every nine minutes. The pain in my abdomen and the crack of my bottom is unbearable. Read this part.

Then your weekly articles.

A PPK Review of Alek Wek’s Biography with Parsha Lukamba

An adversity is not A curse… it’s an opportunity – Chronic City with Nyambura Kiarie

HELLO? God?Society & Identity by Brenda Angwenyi

Warm it up with LoveThe other side with The Ivory Cherub

Of self-censorship and WritingPaper Mache with @Soul_Fool

After you read what you may have missed, spend a few minutes telling us what inspires you to keep going.

I need to knowwhat happens when you have no mojo in you anymore?What happens when your every effort seems futile? How do you wake up, what drives you during the day?