Be Social, Be Social, But Not Too Social

You said you wanted to follow me

on Twitter. It’s because when

you asked if I liked to

Tweet, I thought you asked if I

liked Tweety. I nodded

since I grew up on those

cartoons, you know? That little

yellow bird with the big

voice and that fucking hopeless

excuse for a cat. I always

felt like that cat and now

I can’t remember what his

name was.

You said you liked the name of

my blog because it must be

referencing Watchmen. But it’s

called Ozma not Ozymandias

and did you even ever read

that comic? Or did you ever

imagine the crumbled bricks,

the yellow dust, and feel

like you were going to throw

up from sadness? Don’t confuse

your right with your left, you don’t have temporal-spatial

differentiality issues like

I do.

You said that when you saw

the pictures of me as a

child you thought I would’ve

turned out differently. I don’t

know if you meant prettier

or taller or more prone

to attacks of hysteria. But,

anyways, I blocked those photos

on Facebook and now no one

sees me young anymore.


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