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How to somehow get this to my true love,...
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You are currently reading a thread in /adv/ - Advice

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I’m fairly drunk, so please excuse anything that doesn’t make sense. Mild drunkardness was the only state in which I could do this. Whatever this is.

I have something to say, but saying it would mean that I’ve said it, which I’ve always said is ‘too chocked by finality’, or however the saying goes*

But here I am with the thing gathering steam on my tongue, and I gotta get it out before it burns my mouth.

I can no longer tell the difference between opinion and fact, between earnestness and sarcasm or an artwork and an ad. I’m not saying this is a bad thing, as, if history dictates, it could be a phenomenon confined to my mess of a mind, but I feel as if someone’s gotta take to the internet with a color coded binder system, separate the things from the other things and give every single thing a clear label.

Strangely, even though my relationship with the net is as tangled as a Guinness Book of World Records-acknowledged game of Twister, I relax into that mass of sweaty limbs and bad breath and laugh as if I’m having the best of times. It feels like home to meet the eyes of a bright screen, to press ‘refresh’ and ‘see comments’ and ‘back’ and ‘forward’ and back and forward and back and forward until oscillating URL’s rocking me to sleep.

Okay, so I’m avoiding the real reason for this rant, and being a bit of a wanker, sorry. The whole purpose of this is to explain an embarrassing truth to a particular woman. A woman who I will not name, but who needs to hear the following. Once I allude to the details, she’ll know this is addressed to her. I apologise to everyone else who has to suffer through this (that is, if anyone is nice enough to share it anywhere at all), but there’s no other way I can think to get it to her.

From here on out, I’m going to call her ‘you’, purely so my mind doesn’t run off track.

Hey you.

(Continued in file - sorry, too big)
>>
Spaghetti
Thread replies: 2
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Thread DB ID: 505776



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