Bitches don’t know bout my twitter feed

 Oh hey there, i herd u liek readin my internet shit even when I block you, hey thanks for hitting up my bro and asking him to tell me to stop anonymously talking about things that happened to me.

Brah, I didn’t give your name, or any indicator of who you were.  So.  What the frigs does it matter?  You’re seriously gonna tell me it’s inappropriate to talk about my life on the internet, simply because you don’t like reading it?  YOU DON’T HAVE TO READ IT, DUDE.  That’s why I FREAKING BLOCKED YOU.  Why did you go out of your way to see shit you knew I didn’t want you to see?  Isn’t that kinda, like, a little creepy?
 
While we’re here, can we talk about how you’re saying abuse doesn’t count unless I call the police?  Like, seriously?  Oh, and sexual coercion doesn’t count because I consented to sex at a later date?  Like, if we have consensual sex any time AFTER sexual coercion, then the first time’s totally erased?  PICS OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN?
 
You realize telling my brother that shit is ridiculous, right?  He’s actually way more all up on feminism than I am, and has an even clearer understanding of why those are SUPER FUCKED THINGS TO SAY.
 
Yeah dude, you can totally tell me that these things are just a "story I’m telling myself."  And that’s good for you, but it’s my story to tell, and you have no right to dictate when and where I tell that story unless I directly violate your privacy, or direct people to you in some way.  Which I haven’t done!  So, what the shit!
 
New story:  You did some nice things and some not-nice things, and I’m allowed to talk about any of those things, and I will, and you can tell everyone I’m making it all up because that’s your right, I suppose, but it’s not your right to tell me what I can and cannot say.
 
Now you can go back to telling yourself the story of how awesome you are and how I’m a crazy bitch for not getting over it in an instant.  HOORAY.