(no subject)
We interrupt your normal fandom entries to bring you MY GOD WILL THE CREEPY STALKERS EVER END
the answer is no
here let me count
1) the Original Creepy Stalker (documentation 1 and 2)
2) Michael-sempai (who has since apologized and we have made up)
3) Mr. Homecoming (documentation 1, I have much more to add since that entry - a still on-going story)
and now 4) that One Guy (yes you all know who I'm talking about: that one guy who everyone is artificially nice to but in reality no one wants to be around him? yeah.)
Our story begins with that One Guy. He is in my Japanese class and sits two desks in front of me. I think, in any other situation, he may even be a good guy. But this is not that situation.
I was nice to him one day, because that's the kind of person I am. That's... usually how these things start actually, looking back on my previous creepy followers. Since then, he seems to have developed a rather unhealthy infatuation with me. Not long ago we went on a little field trip to a Japanese restaurant to practice ordering meals in formal Japanese etc. It was fun and the bento box was amazing and I got to see a guy slice a fish in half and make sushi. tl;dr: awesome.
But then that One Guy asked me a rather impromptu question: "will you go out with me?"
UHM.
Let me explain a couple things. 1) Up until very recently I have had no desire for any form of traditional girlfriend/boyfriend relationship. I have been focused on developing my self and what it means to be me. 2) I'm a vain girl okay I like pretty guys is that so evil of me.
I told him no right off the bat, since I wasn't really expecting it. He's laid low since then but has made subtle moves.
Dear All Future Stalkers,
If you move to sit next to me, I know what you're really trying to do.
No love, me.
But, you see, this month is February. I'll give you a second to think about that.
I counted my blessings that Valentine's Day is not on a weekday this year, but it still left me open the day before for Bad Things.
Today held one of those Bad Things.
I walked into Japanese class and found an index card on my desk, with a I'm-trying-really-hard-to-write-fancily "From - Edmund Wolfe" on it. For the record that is not that One Guy's real name, so I didn't associate the two at first.
I immediately showed it to my friend Eric, because it's kinda lulzy. I saw that One Guy glancing back, so he knows I shared it with Eric. That probably burned his ego a bit. I didn't actually read what was on the opposite side of the card until a couple minutes later.
(written in the same oh-god-am-I-fancy-yet writing)
Hair of crystalized (sic) sun
Skin soft as silk
Eyes like sky 'fore a storm
How I wish you were mine
Mind of highest caliber
Knolage (sic) expansive
Voice entransive
How I wish you were mine
I'll wait here while you retch.
I stuck it in my pocket and called it a day, until I pulled it out after school to show to my friends. It was then that I made the horrible, horrible discovery.
Yesterday, that One Guy asked me what my eye color was. I didn't think much of it, because that's exactly the kind of bizarre and creepy question he'd ask. I told him "greyish-blue" and went on with my life. Re-reading the poem with my friends afterwards, I discovered that he utilized that information for none other than comparing my eyes to a sky before a storm.
It was about then that I started screaming.
VerusMaya II
the answer is no
here let me count
1) the Original Creepy Stalker (documentation 1 and 2)
2) Michael-sempai (who has since apologized and we have made up)
3) Mr. Homecoming (documentation 1, I have much more to add since that entry - a still on-going story)
and now 4) that One Guy (yes you all know who I'm talking about: that one guy who everyone is artificially nice to but in reality no one wants to be around him? yeah.)
Our story begins with that One Guy. He is in my Japanese class and sits two desks in front of me. I think, in any other situation, he may even be a good guy. But this is not that situation.
I was nice to him one day, because that's the kind of person I am. That's... usually how these things start actually, looking back on my previous creepy followers. Since then, he seems to have developed a rather unhealthy infatuation with me. Not long ago we went on a little field trip to a Japanese restaurant to practice ordering meals in formal Japanese etc. It was fun and the bento box was amazing and I got to see a guy slice a fish in half and make sushi. tl;dr: awesome.
But then that One Guy asked me a rather impromptu question: "will you go out with me?"
UHM.
Let me explain a couple things. 1) Up until very recently I have had no desire for any form of traditional girlfriend/boyfriend relationship. I have been focused on developing my self and what it means to be me. 2) I'm a vain girl okay I like pretty guys is that so evil of me.
I told him no right off the bat, since I wasn't really expecting it. He's laid low since then but has made subtle moves.
Dear All Future Stalkers,
If you move to sit next to me, I know what you're really trying to do.
No love, me.
But, you see, this month is February. I'll give you a second to think about that.
I counted my blessings that Valentine's Day is not on a weekday this year, but it still left me open the day before for Bad Things.
Today held one of those Bad Things.
I walked into Japanese class and found an index card on my desk, with a I'm-trying-really-hard-to-write-fancily "From - Edmund Wolfe" on it. For the record that is not that One Guy's real name, so I didn't associate the two at first.
I immediately showed it to my friend Eric, because it's kinda lulzy. I saw that One Guy glancing back, so he knows I shared it with Eric. That probably burned his ego a bit. I didn't actually read what was on the opposite side of the card until a couple minutes later.
(written in the same oh-god-am-I-fancy-yet writing)
Hair of crystalized (sic) sun
Skin soft as silk
Eyes like sky 'fore a storm
How I wish you were mine
Mind of highest caliber
Knolage (sic) expansive
Voice entransive
How I wish you were mine
I'll wait here while you retch.
I stuck it in my pocket and called it a day, until I pulled it out after school to show to my friends. It was then that I made the horrible, horrible discovery.
Yesterday, that One Guy asked me what my eye color was. I didn't think much of it, because that's exactly the kind of bizarre and creepy question he'd ask. I told him "greyish-blue" and went on with my life. Re-reading the poem with my friends afterwards, I discovered that he utilized that information for none other than comparing my eyes to a sky before a storm.
It was about then that I started screaming.
VerusMaya II