So this post is written for an audience of one. You know who you are because you keep coming back here even though you would never want me to know that. But I have a secret too. I know who you are. Nifty little gadgets. So just admit it. You are a Blog Stalker. Not that it is a bad thing. After all, a Blog Stalker is by definition “someone who secretly reads someone’s blog with the express purpose of learning more about them without their knowledge.” Some call it stalking…in your case, I’ll call it love. Of course the second half of that definition reads “most stalkers are believed to be under a great amount of stress and mentally unstable.”
It’s true. Love can make you do crazy things. It can even lead to obsessions. Is a post just a post or is it a secret code disguised as a post? Is a train wreck just a train wreck? Is the liar just a character in a book? I guess you’ll never know unless you ask. But then that would mean admitting to being a Blog Stalker and admitting to things just isn’t your style. Is it? Right about now some of my blogging buddies are thinking, “What the heck are you doing calling a Blog Stalker out of the closet?” Don’t worry. It’s not as if I’m going to stand in front of the mirror and say Blog Stalker three times and expect her to appear. Oops, I said her. I guess I let that one slip and now my delete key is broken.
Okay, so it’s all out in the open now. I know you, you know me. You’ve been here. You’ve read my joys. You’ve read my sorrows. You’ve kicked me when I’m down. You’re good at that. Now move on. Live your life and let me go. I dare you. I will not directly address you again. I will however continue to write about train wrecks and liars. FYI: a train wreck isn’t literally a train wreck. It is a metaphor for a distraction on the side of the road and the road is a metaphor for life. So yes, by definition a Blog Stalker might in this case be considered a train wreck and therefore I must defer to New Year’s Resolution #1 and get back to my life. Bleak as it is right now, it is my life.
By the way, the liar really is just a character in a book. Or is she? Okay, now I’m just messing with you.