A few weeks ago CBS reporter Sharyl Attkisson phoned me to ask about my Benghazi contacts. I assumed the call was being recorded. Now I read that her computer is bugged. It turns on and off by itself in the middle of the night.
Mine doesn’t. At least I don’t think it does. I tend to be asleep at three a.m.
Still, I live in fear. And I don’t think I’m the only one. I think a lot of people do now, in various degrees. They want to think they don’t, but they do.
It’s not a terrified fear. I don’t cower under my desk. It’s a nagging fear, a trepidation. Something that never goes away.
Someone is watching me, monitoring whatever I do. If I make a mistake, I will pay for it. My future will be bleak.
Basically, I am being silenced. And so are you. Purposefully or not, they are trying to shut us down and shut us up.
They say they’re not, but they are.
They don’t believe they are, but they are.
They have protective mechanisms in place, but who knows if they function?
We have to rely on the beneficence of our overseers, but how can we believe in that?
How can we believe in anything? Everything is too big. We are just cogs in the wheel. Winston Smith had it better than us. The technology was not as efficient in his day (1984).
So I live in fear.
And here’s the big problem: it’s hard to see how it’s going to get better.