Tarnished, Varnished Radishes

I do not know what motivates anyone who might read this.  For, you see, this blog is a story.  It's a story about you that... should... no... not...

Not what it seems.

Seems what it's not.

You opened this blog to be hypnotised.  Mesmerised.

Forgotten once again.

We attract you here for one reason and two reasons only:

Four people will find the way off this sticky fly paper.

You chose to lose yourself here.

You walked into the trappings of the Internet, fully cognisant of the dangers in giving away your anonymous identity.

I had hoped to write this blog only for myself, willing to submit my imagination to my imagination, a tautology, I believe, if word meanings haven't lost themselves here, too.

Hope is a such a poor word, penniless, hoping beyond itself for retribution in destitution's institution.

There is no escape.

There are no bounds.

Once you're here, we're everywhere in your life.

We had hopes for you a long time ago.  All of us - your family, your colleagues, your backstabbing best friends.

Then you had to quench your thirst for cat's lives.

You just had to know.

You merely wanted one answer.

You only looked up one bit of information.

And now...

Well, there's no going back.

You can't say you didn't mean to.

It's always too late to feel sorry for yourself.

I will even, I say, say I told you not to, but I never said I told you so.

A feeling like ants in your pants will surround you, a feeling that you feel wireless signals passing through you, a feeling of uncertainty, transparency...

But it's too late.

You see words but these are not words.

You hold images in your head but those aren't images.

You are me.

You no longer exist.

This blog was never here.

There was a moment when you could have been yourself.  You could have lived a life of what almost felt like your own.

From now on, everything you do you do because you were told to do so.  It won't seem that way but it will be.

That is the only price you have to pay to ask one question on the Internet.

One question.

A question you didn't even know you were asking in the first place.

A question with an easy answer.

"What is my IP address?"

After that, you're ours.

Next question.