I Do Not Consent

I had someone at the door Today, for the third time, actually for the sixth time. If we count the two times, they came in the form of letters.

He missed me; I didn’t hear him knock. He did leave a piece of paper through the letterbox. The same piece of writing he left behind yesterday after I politely said I was busy and shut the door; he then politely slipped something in the letterbox—a purple leaflet, right to get my attention. 

Did they use your favourite colour to get your attention? They could have; they have the data.

I looked at it, and it did something like this:

You will( do what they demand) by:

(Square Tick box) Today

(Square Tick box) Tomorrow

That was nearly funny; I felt I was back at nursery school for a few moments. How ridiculous does this need to get before the people, all the people, wake up. 

It also said:

You can be fined £1000 if you don’t.

Yeah, sure, like that’s going to make me quickly go and do as I’m told by who knows who. I have fallen for it every single time in the past. But not now. That’s not going to happen again. Not after the times we are living. No more giving into bullies. Regardless of how big they think they are. Without my consent they have nothing.

The first time I got this nursery school type form, dumbly coercing me to do something by getting me to tick a box that says Today or one that says Tomorrow (please, how dumb is that) I ripped it up and filed it in my kitchen bin. Funnily Today, the piece of paper caused the same effect on me, only that this time I threw the pieces out the window, to my front garden. I couldn’t resist.

Next time if he catches me at the front door, I’ll say:


Go back to whoever sent you and tell them that. That’s all they need to know. If they don’t understand, you tell their boss; if they don’t understand either, tell their boss’ boss, and so on. It might take you a while until someone gets it. They are not used to of resistance. They are used to silent and absolute obedience.

Look were that has gotten us.

And I’ll also say to him…


In a time when data is currency, literary, your boss must think of himself as quite the bully. Because to come to doorstep and demand that I spend my time, which is also currency, and demand that I spend my resources to work on producing the sum of my data, so I then give it to you, and because you say so full stop, for whoever sents you to do whatever they please with my data …

Tell them they’ve got a non-funny kind of joke going.

We are One

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Sylvia Love Johnson

Vivid Dreamer, Inspirational Writer, Reality Creator, 7th art lover,  Filmmaker, Writer, Award-winning film Producer, Award-winning Entrepreneur.  Actor, Acting Coach, Method Acting Tutor Read more

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