I still check in every few months to see how you’re doing. The exploit is still active on the phone, so I have easy access to photos, messages, call logs, all of it, not that it matters much anymore. Some day you’ll need a new one, and I doubt I’ll be motivated enough to find a new exploit for it. My work here is done. Everything happened so fast that first year, from virgin chess playing nerd majoring in economy to dedicated jock majoring in gains and guys. From checkmate to checking out mates. I was pretty hands-on back then. Instill routines, set goals, tear up everything that holds you back, destroy every relationship that could reel you back, find new friends to keep you tethered to the new reality I was weaving for you. I went easy the first few weeks, to lay the foundations, but then BAM one morning you sold all your course literature, handed over all clothes you couldn’t work out in to the salvation army, picked up some used shit at a gym lost and found sale, stocked up on brown rice and canned tuna, and blew the rest of the money on supplements, gym membership, and dumbbells. I saw the email you started writing to your mother, on how you were confused, scared, and considered moving back home. You knew you had done all those things, but couldn’t understand why. From the laptop webcam I saw you cry in your bed, drinking a protein shake, the only thing you had and could afford. Then you put on your depressed playlist on Spotify and I took over again. The music told you how insane it would be to not continue. What kind of maniac does all these preparations and then just walks away? Why not try it for one week at least, as hard as you could? Really dedicated work. Or a month, to see some results? What would you have to lose, given the situation you were in? I pushed hard as you laid still on your bed, emotionally exposed to my manipulation. My will and desires slipped right in to fill the vacuum. You didn’t even try to find the email draft I deleted.
You needed guidance, motivation, knowledge, schedule, routines, and I provided them for you in Youtube recommendations, in stray tweets passing you by, in ads around you, and in every way of influence I could give from my remote position. It didn’t take long for you to soak it all up and work diligently on the path I laid out for you. You were smart after all. This was just another thing to learn and get good at. I could focus on your other traits instead. Move you from submissive introvert to confident jerk. My favorite part was taking an economy student and make him piss poor at personal finance. Just instill the notion that there is no better investment than your own body. That’s where that big shoulder tattoo comes from. Investment. Just like the waxing, the tanning, the massage, the physical therapy, the gym memberships, the sports club.
I haven’t been keeping too close track the past year, to be honest. I’ve seen that you haven’t been able to hold down a job for too long, but that wasn’t that unexpected after what I did to you. Not gonna lie, it actually makes me a bit horny how truly fucked you ended up. One of my best results. But from what I can tell from your text messages you are doing your part as well, with your escort services.
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