lavender latte!

i brought myself from the brink, and i can do it again.

it only seemed like a matter of time before this house of cards fell spectacularly, and that's exactly what's occurred; just when you thought there wasn't much to the rumors, suddenly you're within it all and all at once.

i spent my nights scrolling these days. i unplugged from loop as soon as i was laid off. bitterness is only the superficial reason. the underlying cause is because i knew it was always going to be short-lived, even if i tried doing all the right things.

when loop was founded, it was supposed to change the world, and it surely did. i don't think anyone can dispute that. nobody even thinks of the internet in the same way anymore. we're all plugged into the loop, and that only got worse when the company became synonymous with getting online. in malaysia, all of their online connections are subsidized by loop, and that's the only way folks can get online for free. so many sovereign nations, impoverished from the exploitation of colonialism we were happy to be ignorant of, were freely handing over power to loop. with each passing day, some oversight committee somewhere was being dismantled or rendered inefficient. entire governments were doing business in the loop.

i was at the end of my rope when i joined loop, underemployed and spinning my wheels at a low-level firm. they found me, as a matter of fact, and my parents were proud of that. i had the opportunity to, thankfully, not be on any side of the organization that sold anything or dabbled in any dubious dealings. i would do something helpful, necessary, needed; something that wasn't furthering the interests of the corporation, but instead allowing me to advocate for the people using the products. i would be their voice, i decided, and that would be how i would ethically work there, as long as the company at least tried to make an effort to do the right thing. i took the bait, and how naïve i was, loop making all of us feel better with the perks of it all. ones that i barely took part in, partially due to my disgust of the sheer amount of money that was being thrown to keep employees in the buildings long after 5 p.m., and partially because i didn't want to give them the satisfaction.

i found that others with similar backgrounds to me were also my cohorts in our research: low-income and humble beginnings, working hard for everything we've had. no nepotism here, no. we were children of the internet, as we liked to say; power-users of loop's products, even when a home personal computer was still in vogue. well-educated and, yes, enjoying the privilege that came along with working at the world's largest technology company while giving back as much as we could. it wasn't enough.

not everyone was like my cohorts, i soon found. i sparsely attended happy hours, co-mingling with mindless, out-of-touch corpo drones unless it was beneficial for me to keep my job. and even then, i would later find out, it wasn't enough. i kept my politics to the free lunches, tittering off about data and users to my coworkers, lest i find out their libertarian ideals of pushing hyper-capitalistic products and my perception of them be changed.

the opposite was where my interests lain: educating and informing product-pushers about how their ideas were to the detriment of many. of course the company wouldn't want to keep us, eventually. the company was moving in a new direction. ignorance is bliss, they say; the company was determined for employees to be happy. we were only swept up due to budget, they said, our work only made the company better. but the layoffs were only the beginning.

loop thought they satiated us by offering outlandish severance packages, and in tiny print, "EMPLOYEE shall not engage in disparaging acts against the company."

when the riots started in silicon valley, the journalists weren't trusted enough to even out who the rioters were. there was a thickness in the air, choking the demonstrators of any coming forward that could be mustered. these weren't your mother's protesters; these were tech employees who ride a very different wave. activists who had been fighting against big tech for years joined the fight from the beginning, and that's when i knew this was getting bigger than i was prepared for.

when the san francisco office was burnt to the ground, arson was immediately suspected due to the recent layoffs. they're still offering a $50,000 reward for information and cross-referencing all laid off employees' information with security cameras around the area. why would anyone in this city come forward, knowing what loop has done to everyone here? it only took a week after the layoffs for a major building to be destroyed, but short-sighted, it might have been; now, at every entrance to every loop building, armed guards stand, checking badges meticulously.

two weeks after the dreaded email telling us our roles had been eliminated, i logged into my personal email, where a new calendar invite beckoned me in my inbox. a sockpuppet email address put me on guard. and yet, here i was. opening it.

my heart dropped into my stomach. i had an idea of who m could be, but i wasn't sure. if i was right, then everything just got way more complicated. not to mention, this was only an hour's notice. my hands felt tied; how could i pass up an opportunity to find out what this is about, when i've resigned to helping in the background? when the tear gas is still ripe in my lungs, and i can still feel the sting of pepper spray?

i clicked REPLY a bit harder than i was expecting.

with a whoosh, my email sent. the response was swift, but that's not uncommon. probably texted from his phone, whoever this was.

i sucked my teeth and took a deep breath. i felt it in my bones that something was about to happen, something big. i could still go and just see what the racket is about; especially since it's downtown san francisco on a friday. it's not like i would be particularly out of place in a busy, tourist area.

my email pinged.

my eyebrows furrowed at the line. leave what? how do they know where i am and what i need to do? are they talking about my apartment? my eyes darted to the clock: 5:45. i could probably get to the embarcadero in 20 minutes.

i was reminded something my manager once told me: "sometimes, you have to just make a decision, because the decision to do nothing can be the worst outcome of all."

i gathered everything to leave and took a last look at the apartment to see if i would forget anything. i armed myself with pepper spray and a singleton of milk, just in case. slinging my backpack over my shoulder, i grabbed my keys and locked up. "i locked the door," i said to myself, trying to instil it in my memory so i don't wonder later on. last thing i need during a protest is to think about whether or not i locked the door, for code's sake.

the bart station wasn't far from me, and i resigned myself to take public transit, despite the risk. not worth getting a taxee involved since the app is fully integrated with loop and trackable, obviously. as i began clicking my headphones into my ears, a flurry of unmarked black vehicles descended upon my building. eyebrows furrowed, i slowed my walk toward the station. i can't believe what i'm seeing: a group of men marched right to my apartment door, banging on it with fervor. like this was a hacker movie, and i'm zero cool, right before i turn into crash override.

what the fuck? now i get it. i need to leave. but i couldn't understand: why a researcher? it's not like i was coding something top secret or had any confidential information. and i was sure as hell nowhere near the san francisco office the day it burned down, unless you count being in the same city.

i was standing still too long, watching this go down, so i turned on my heel and brisked toward the bart station.

m knows something, and i'm wrapped up in it somehow. i brought myself from the brink, and i can do it again.

pour another?