Whenever I reblog something in order to comment on it and previously this has been liked and shared around and everyone seem to scream “yeah! this!,” I always get a bit worried. Hesitant even. Because here I come with an unpopular view and throws shit around myself and am occasionally a bit rude while doing so. And I fear people will leave and scoff and look at me with a laser gaze of dislike.

Then I post it anyway, being on the popular side has never been my lot anyway. The fear is still there though, it can linger for hours.

The world is sort of sticky. The air, it sticks to the skin. It doesn’t cool the way I want it to do. The flow is hardly even a breeze. I need a fridge with a bed in it, but I don’t want to evict any penguins. Somehow, I need to learn to live and not just abide.

Distant to everyone. There’s a rift. It happens from time to time, this one started up on… Wednesday I think. It was sudden and in a minute it was there separating me from about everyone I follow on Twitter. The effect is bigger there since I write and follow quite a large chunk of Swedes — and there’s more socialisation between people outside of Internet. This makes them closer but still further away than some people here. And I don’t socialise as much as I’d like but I’m not sure that would remove the rift even if I did. Some of it is probably really there, some of it is projected from me as a defence and I’m sure a a large bit is a phantom rift that don’t really exist. That doesn’t matter though, I see it, it’s there. Real or imagined.

This is why I haven’t used Twitter in three days.