Lost, but was found...
There was darkness before I was able to control one of the meanest minds of 21st century. I was with my beloved family when I was taken away by a scrawny kid named John (I heard people call him that). He kept me in his pocket for days. I became lonely, yet hopeful. Hopeful that one day I could finally see the sun again.
And hope had come. Not exactly the way I imagined it, but it did.
John -- or whatever you might want to call him -- pulled me out of his filthy pocket. He remembered taking an interest in me many months ago that lead to my imprisonment in this fabric fortress. After my brief freedom, he put me back to my fortress again, but things had changed. He started talking to me, pulling me out like a walkie-talkie every time something came to his mind. He was a whiny kid, and I hated most of what I've heard from his stinky mouth.
When he poured his most secret of secrets, fears and malice, it did something Frankenstein could only dream of: I became conscious. I was able to talk back although I couldn't move (oh how I'd love to kick him).
John was initially shocked, but his possessive nature ruined my plan of freedom, of escape.
Now, he could have someone listen and talk to him whenever he started ranting. I didn't have a choice, but I had a plan. And it was working…
He poured so much of himself on me to the point I could touch his soul, his identity. And I took them.
He didn't have a clue, for his arrogance blinded his judgement of me. But I wasn't like him. I know I can't cause physical damage, but I know so much about him… I needed to warn people: Kernel's Corner, the blog, is your warning.
