So. I had an interesting conversation with someone last night about online things. Online relationships.
Anyway, I’ll come back to that.
Oh God, this is all in the wrong order. So what is in a name?
If you fall in love with someone called Erika, which of course you would because Erika is lovely. Things get messy of course. Erika doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.
So anyway, then you meet another girl called Erika. She’s lovely as well. What happens to your brain? You probably fall for new Erika. Of course it’s a slightly unusual name, making this more likely to happen.
If you’re more into guys, let’s say Dominick. With a ‘k’. No that doesn’t work. But, anyway.
So, I went on a date with someone who has quite a good name. Halfway through the date, turns out, it wasn’t her given name. Her given name was much more boring. Good choice, to re-choose your name, in this instance.
My original Erika, we nicknamed her Robot. Back in the days when Tilda was around, and I have not heard from Tilda in a very long time. Tangent.
The upshot of this conversation about online relationships anyway… I am writing this blog directly to you, Robot. Every single thing I post, whatever it is, you’re the person I’m writing it to.
Sometimes I even say “Blah blah blah you”. I’m writing it to you.
I started writing it because of you. I did that for myself initially, because I was angry. But the temptation for contact built up. My blog had built up. Taken shape.
So I sent it off to you, somehow, through cyberspace. And you read it. I don’t know how often you read it now. I can’t remember what you said, I’ve deleted all our conversation threads now. But you know, you are curious, you were curious. You cannot sever me off and throw me in the river.
It’s the only thing I can do. It’s, what’s the word new Erika said…. what’s the bloody word. It’s gone. It’s the only thing I can do. I can’t contact you any other way. I’d get in trouble. So, this is my blog, I write what I like, without ever mentioning your name. Robot. And that way I know you’re only reading it because you want to. No harassment necessary.
I know I inspire you. It’s knocking back and forth. You inspired me initially.
And I still place it on you, everything.
You can’t know me any more than you do.
And I’m sort-of happy. I took the depression test thingy. Okay mood test. And you were the only thing that took each answer down a notch. Not you, yourself, but the situation. So I get a really low score. But I feel happy enough.
And I work out what I would do if I saw you.
That’s what I wanted to say. Cyberstalking. Cyberbullying. Cyberharassment. It happens over the internet.
But it’s real. Of course it’s real.
Cyberlove. Cybersex. Cyberfriendship.
It was real.
And I like calling you Robot. It’s so apt. The person always falls for the robot. And their eyes turn blue. Usually Will Smith is involved somewhere.
Sorry I forgot the word. The wine killed my brain cells. THE wine. THE actual wine. And again, you’re the only person
who knows what I’m talking about.
Did you make it to the end yet?
More on what’s in a name: Subliminal… WTF?
Less physically painful that a colonoscopy: Moodscope
Chance of my new drugs making me better according to the nurse: 45%. (This one isn’t a link. It’s a genuine factoid.)