[The following piece is my parodized version of the famous declamation piece, “Vengeance Is Not Ours, It’s God’s” by Geronimo Sicam. Just my own twisted imagination of what can happen if our lawmakers don’t amend the CyberCrime Law now.]
Likes, likes, likes. Share me a thought, a smile. Share me some photos to browse. I use the internet, so free, and so simple.
Why are you monitoring me? With my eyes I cannot see but I know that you are watching me. Why are you whispering to one another? Why? Do you know my father – offline? Did you know me five years ago, when I didn’t have my Facebook account? Yes, five years of memories have passed. I can still remember the vast happiness I shared with everyone online. We were very happy indeed.
Suddenly, five loud knocks were heard on the door and a deep silence ensued. Did the authorities discover my IP address? I ran to Father’s side pleading. “Please, hide your file folders, there where they cannot find it,” I pulled my father’s arm but he did not move. It seemed as though his hands were glued to the keyboard. The door went “bang” and before us five ugly beasts came barging in. “Are you the person with username ‘theradical96’?” roared the ugliest of them all. “Yes,” said my father. “You are under arrest,” said one of the beasts. They pulled father roughly away from the computer. Father was not given a chance to post a goodbye.
I tweeted and shared what happened. Our internet connection was cut. I saw a group of wealthy politicians on television. Oh, how my mind wondered at the delicious fatherland promises they were regurgitating. Then suddenly, someone told me, “Hey, check your Facebook!” I ran towards the computer shop, but it was too late. I saw father’s photo on the newsfeed… dead. Oh, it was terrible. The comments were badly one-sided… and I typed “Freedom of speech, freedom of speech, freedom of speech!” The screen went black. The next thing I knew I was asked to leave the computer shop.
One day, we heard the news about a protest rally. It was a sign for us to gather and unite once more, but I could not leave my office, so I tried to show my support online.
Sudden arrests became frequent; TV news were censored, even searching Google was useless. Click! Click! Click! CLICK! My blogsite and Twitter account got taken down — my voice seemingly shattered into pieces. I shut down my computer and cried, “Freedom is ours, freedom!” “Not anymore,” snickered the arresting officer.
But I cried out freedom. My thoughts were a pent-up volcano. “Freedom of speech is ours!” “But not anymore; freedom was yours, until you opposed the government” were the words that the judge sentenced me with.
The internet is dead, I was offline. Freedom is gone? To live in seeming peace and security is nice, but freedom is sweeter. That was five years ago…
Likes, likes, likes. Share me a thought, a smile. Share me some photos to browse. I use the internet, so free, and so simple… but not anymore. Freedom is no longer ours, but the government’s. Freedom is… Freedom… Is… ██████████████████████████████████