The Downfall of a Vigilante Troll
I thought I was speaking truth to power, but the fall from that high horse can hurt
Confession: I used to be a troll.
Not the traditional kind. I wasn’t the type who hid behind a fake profile, swore, goaded, and tried everything to make you feel like shit.
I was more of a new age “wear you down with shit humor” type. The occasional contrarian who played devil’s advocate to self-righteous assholes; the one who poked holes in a wall of justified logic.
I used too many words to be a full-grown troll. I didn’t need to swear or attack a person’s race, sex, or whatever prejudgments society inflicted upon them. I used my words — my well-educated language. I trolled with riddles. I trolled with innuendo. I trolled with a succinct use of passive-aggressive behavior like a cleaver slicing through the bullshit. And yes, I thoroughly enjoyed it.
My trolling took on the big players, the large egos, the narcissists with a huge fan base, and the look-at-me braggarts who needed justification for every thought. I was a troll with a conscience, on a mission to right the world. Only I had a clear vision to call out the popular wolves in sheep’s clothing.
