This is truly pathetic. I had a dream last night about… being on Twitter. Not about climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. Not about walking with dinosaurs. Not about an orgy in a Parisian hotel room. No, typing dumb updates for strangers, limited by 140 characters.
You realize the only reason I am writing this is because I know this will update on Twitter and Facebook, so this is my way of cheating and communicating to others, to make sure I am not forgotten, like a child star from an old sitcom. This post has no literary value.
I deleted Twitter and Facebook from my iPhone, and it helped. I wrote with paper and pen to avoid the Internet. I talked on the phone. I emailed.
Ok. I cheated. I just went on Twitter and Facebook… to look if anyone mentioned me. Now I have to start the whole week all over again. Sad.
Remember that Seinfeld episode where they tested who was “master of their domain?” This is just as difficult.
Why are you so important to me? Or am I trying to run away from here?