The New York Times is ridiculing me for being in the process of developing a borderline eating disorder because of being targeted for voyeurism.

Nobody should be surprised; this is a newspaper that has watched me tie a noose to hang myself with in two apartments in a row where I was criminally victimized by voyeurism, and that hasn't cared.

There's nothing to suggest that I won't be targeted for this crime for the rest of my life, which is why I want to kill myself every day.  I never stop thinking about suicide.  A life that has no privacy is not worth having; I will kill myself eventually if they don't stop.  I haven't killed myself yet because I can't believe that the pillars of society won't finally make it stop.

When the pillars of society have proven that they don't care, or when I am at the end of what I can endure, I will kill myself.

The end of my endurance seems to be approaching more rapidly than concern that my rights are being violated, or concern that the promotion of voyeurism has harmed many other people besides me.  What doesn't seem to be approaching rapidly is the end of the ability of the powerful and the comfortable to do nothing while others suffer.  

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