little things are remarkable for the addict, for the social media addict i mean. i will spare you the moralist comments about being an addict, especially from very insipid drugs which are social media. i had my fair share of addictions but most of them keep me awake at night, and not actually waking me up to get my fix. this is really bad.
i don’t like surprises, understanding my surrounding is a big use of my energy and a lot of work is put in not being surprised. i don’t like to not understand. but this early morning, i woke up and decided to flatter my ego by looking how the world responded to my latest “attentat littéraire” – in case you didn’t know i am french and very limited by the use of english, you can loosely translate it to a terrorist attack on literature.
but things didn’t go as planned. my social media app decided to prompt me very abruptly and aggressively i may say by telling me that my session has expired and i need to key my password again. angst…never happened before, and what is my password by the way. my need of flattering became suddenly an unexplainable fear of not understanding, or maybe just intrigued. and there it was upon logging, i was guilty and i have been tried in absentia: i am a violator, i have violated the holy terms and conditions of my social media provider, i have said things that i shouldn’t have, i have discriminated, the almighty social media doesn’t judge me as good, i am a violator, they did confiscate my prose and i have been ashamed. hold on, but i only write love stories, complicated ones i admit guilt on that, but after all they are love stories. shit, i just think that hitler may have said the same, i killed 6 millions souls for the love of the german people, i am just a misunderstood romantic (if that doesn’t get me banned….), so i try to brush out the reminiscence of my dreams and ignore morpheus calling me back to him (the greek god not lawrence fishburne, i only deal with deities since i have 10k followers). well it seems that XXIV was judged unworthy of sharing his opinions, reading it again i was actually the one being discriminated (he called me little man, how dare he), but i forgive him he was on the way to higher ground and needed to step on people. it was me after all the victim of those two bullies.