LJ Idol Exhibit A: Week 1 - Am I Crazy?
Hey, author, why does the air smell funny? Are you even gonna tell me? You never tell me anything, and it’s extremely annoying. I’m lying on my bed here, in the room I share with the roommate who was supposed to be my perfect boyfriend. You wouldn’t let me have that, though, would you? You just had to make our “sexual personalities” incompatible even if we both like guys. You’re an asshole, you know that?
Don’t give me that look. I wish I could tell him about you, author. Maybe that would help him feel better. He doesn’t believe in any sort of god, so he would just think I’m crazy if I said we weren’t even real.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m gonna go crazy because I know that. You gifted me with the Power of Meta in order to make me more fun to write and more entertaining for your readers. On some level, I get that. I don’t like boring books, either, but this? It’s a burden sometimes. Maybe I’m crazy already. You certainly gave me enough goddamn mental issues.
It could be that I’m not even fictional at all and am in a psych ward somewhere thinking I’m Dylan Hathaway, fictional fuck up. If you were going to make me able to know I’m fictional, why bother with a Fourth Wall at all? Why not say “screw it” and make everyone aware they’re not real? Then at least I would have a damn support group. You don’t know why you didn’t do it that way? Asshole.
So this is for a writing contest? And that’s why the atmosphere is so weird? And the contest is run by a sadistic Evil Overlord type whom you fucking paid so you could enter? What the fuck is wrong with you? “All the cool kids were doing it” isn’t an excuse that’s supposed to work after middle school and you’re what? Twenty five? I assume you’re not still in middle school.
Anyway, I’m gonna go try and talk to my roommate now and see if I can’t make his life suck a little less. I would say it was nice chatting with you, but it really wasn’t. Have a good night, I guess.
Don’t give me that look. I wish I could tell him about you, author. Maybe that would help him feel better. He doesn’t believe in any sort of god, so he would just think I’m crazy if I said we weren’t even real.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m gonna go crazy because I know that. You gifted me with the Power of Meta in order to make me more fun to write and more entertaining for your readers. On some level, I get that. I don’t like boring books, either, but this? It’s a burden sometimes. Maybe I’m crazy already. You certainly gave me enough goddamn mental issues.
It could be that I’m not even fictional at all and am in a psych ward somewhere thinking I’m Dylan Hathaway, fictional fuck up. If you were going to make me able to know I’m fictional, why bother with a Fourth Wall at all? Why not say “screw it” and make everyone aware they’re not real? Then at least I would have a damn support group. You don’t know why you didn’t do it that way? Asshole.
So this is for a writing contest? And that’s why the atmosphere is so weird? And the contest is run by a sadistic Evil Overlord type whom you fucking paid so you could enter? What the fuck is wrong with you? “All the cool kids were doing it” isn’t an excuse that’s supposed to work after middle school and you’re what? Twenty five? I assume you’re not still in middle school.
Anyway, I’m gonna go try and talk to my roommate now and see if I can’t make his life suck a little less. I would say it was nice chatting with you, but it really wasn’t. Have a good night, I guess.