You Can Erase a Tag, But Not 400,000 Words
July 8, 2025
A short reminder for those trying to rewrite history.
As of 10:30 p.m. JST on July 8, 2025
I have six subscribers. 151 kudos. 42 comment threads. 18 bookmarks. 409,814 words.
This is not the footprint of someone who “only shows up to cause drama.” This is the record of a writer. A creator. A person who worked, reworked, revised, posted, got up the next day and wrote again — long before you decided I was a problem.
You want to define me by someone else’s name. You want to flatten me into a label that makes your narrative easier. You want me gone, because if I stay, you’d have to admit I exist outside your control.
So you ignore what I write. You refuse to read the statement where I distanced myself from Autumn. You pretend not to see the receipts, the context, the full story. You accuse me of things I never said, and block me before I can respond.
You think if you say “she’s just unhinged,” it’ll invalidate the 40 chapters I wrote with care. You think if you call me a troll, nobody will see the care I gave to character, language, nuance. You think if you speak loud enough, my work will disappear.
But the numbers are still there. The archive doesn’t lie. Every hit, every comment, every kudos — they are witnesses. Not of popularity. But of presence.
I am here. I have been here. I am not a shadow of someone else. I am not your scapegoat. And I will not disappear because it makes things more convenient for you.
So if this is about control, say so. If this is about power, admit it. But don’t dress your erasure in the language of “safety.” Don’t pretend your silencing is kindness. Because this — this is not about safety. This is about rewriting history. And I’m here to say: Not on my watch.