Monday, May 23, 2005

Because I know you care so deeply, Internet.

I used to write my blog addressing my blog. I called him (or her, the blog might have been asexual, like das hund) Bloggie. I told Bloggie when my day sucked, when I was hurty and owwie and yucky and depressed.

Then a magical thing started happening--poor fools around the world began reading my website. Not many, mind you. But enough that I was no longer writing for a select audience of one, my dear, true friend Bloggie. No, now I was writing to the anonymous void, the Internet. It's like being on stage and blinded by the lights and looking out into a dark auditorium. You cannot see them, but you know they're out there. You can see their forms in the dim glow of the exit signs, and occationally they cough or shift. If you're very fortunate, they clap.

I check my hit counter; I know you're out there somewhere, Internet.

And Internet (a group of which Bloggie is now an implied member) I have a might painful crick in my neck. It's a pinched nerve, I'm pretty certain. I've been moving my neck around all day, trying to get my spine to pop, no such luck. Kneeding it with all I've got, everything I can think of. No go. I just feel like I'd be better if I layed face down on the ground and a steam roller rolled over me. Because then, hopefully, everything'd crack that's so damned painful right now, and I'd feel better.

We'll just forget about that whole part when I'm dead at the end. Everything going snap and pop would be heavenly.

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