Cydniey Buffers (cydniey) wrote,
Cydniey Buffers
cydniey

Dear Diary, The Price of Freedom

The Fabulous Disaster is coming to an end. Cydniey Buffers is being killed off by the writers. The experiment has been a failure, abject at best, but everyone had fun. If there are files that you want, save them now. If you are interested in the photos in the Member Area, fill out a membership application, everyone will be immediately approved, no questions asked, from now until the site closes down. Knock yourselves out. Come one, come all. It’s all open. The same goes for here at livejournal, save what you want now. It will not be left up, not everything stays on the internet forever. When you spend 16 years rigorously protecting your content, when the time comes to pack it up, you can actually pack it up and disappear. A year from now, there will be nary a trace of Cydniey.


Cydniey was meant to protect Kristin. She was a persona specially built to care for Kristin. Cydniey failed. She allowed people in who were not interested in caring for Kristin, and put her complete trust and existence in them. Now that they have shown themselves for what they are, Kristin is alone, about to be homeless, and still mentally ill, now untreated. Cydniey did not protect Kristin. And she was unable to secure Kristin’s future. The show’s writers have decided that for the best of Kristin’s future, Cydniey Buffers must die.


And, folks, Cydniey is the Fabulous Disaster. So when she goes, the site goes, too. It all goes. Kristin is going offline to escape the hospital (if they won’t medicate me outside the hospital, I will not allow them to medicate me into submission in the hospital; with no one looking out for me, if I go in now, I will never get out, and I will lose Chewy) and live on the Las Vegas streets with her dog, Chewbacca and write in notebooks and be free. Hungry, but free. Sick, but free. I will be one of those raving women on the street that you avoid eye contact with and feel faint disgust for. I always knew, deep down, since the diagnosis, that I would end up like this. And I fought like hell against it. Sold my soul to avoid it, but my soul is spent and it’s not enough to cover my debts. Pragmatically speaking, this is destiny, and I’m not fighting it anymore.


And I think, in this I have found the secret to true contentment. I am at peace now. I’m not fighting against karma at every step, trying to secure a safe future for myself with love and a roof over my head. I have been wasting my energy fighting and putting off the inevitable for so long . . . no more.


So fill out those membership forms. All information entered will be immediately discarded, I have no use for your information, the application is a formality of coding at this point. I don’t want to go in and undo it, so if you want the content, just take the extra step.


If there are any poems on soundcloud that you want copies of, or written words to, hit me up on the contact form. I’ll figure out how to get it to you before I go. After all the support you all have shown me all these years, this is the very least I can offer you. Cancel your Patreon subscriptions, I will be deleting that account and I don’t want you to get charged for another month. I have no access to the money I make, so don’t send any, thinking it will get to me. Money is not something I can use, I don’t have ID or anything. I’m cash-only, change, please, from here on out.


Timothy, if I knew how, I would say this privately, but I still don’t, so here it is: Thank you for your gifts of support over the years. I am really sorry I was unable to recover the Amazon items you sent me last October. Thank you for buying them for me. I will be unable to pursue my lawsuit against the apartment complex from here, because reasons. I have already called them and let them off the hook, it was the least I could do. As far as the rest of the things you have sent me, I am taking the cameras and SD cards and USB sticks, but that is all we can carry. Those will go in Chewy’s pack. The large stuff, I have to leave here, with him. I’m sorry, I would take it all, and only what you’ve given me, if I could. But the reality is, I don’t want to carry a lot of stuff. I said I was cool with living on the streets with my dog, not a damn bag lady. I travel light. I want to hug the shit out of you, man. You just never will know. You were the first person to show your faith in me through financial support. Though it wasn’t that important to me, it made my life easier to justify to Doc all of these years. Thank you for helping me with the grand experiment to redesign my destiny. We almost did it, we really did. And all along, you had my back.


Okay, go join the member area. I want to start approving applications, I love pressing the button, and there aren’t a lot of buttons to press when you’re homeless. So let me have some last electronic fun before I go.


Cheers, and thank you to you all. For content inquiries, use the handy Contact form, someone should use it before it disappears.

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