WebKittyn Warbles

One of the worst things there is is finding out you're not important. The discovery that underneath your own delusions of grandeur you really do not matter. As much as you like to think you are needed and valued and real you are in fact none of the above. The cold truth that you are simply just another internet person.

I have a lot of internet friends. Yah yah, I know. Very impressive, Kittyn. Shush. I have a lot of internet friends and most of them are funny people I exchange IMs or email with. People I don't claim to know or who claim to know me but strangers in a strange land who pass each other by and exchange pleasantries. This is fine, this is great. I enjoy these people and I hope they enjoy me. My life is enriched by them on many levels and I'm glad for the connections. But these aren't people with whom I would share the tears, the fears, the secrets.

I have a few friends I've met off the internet as well. People I've never laid eyes on in the physical sense due to geography but who in every sense of the word are friends. These are people who ceased to be internet friends and became real friends and are every bit as important to me as the people I see on a regular basis. It's not a sex thing either, Meathe is one of the happiest married men I know and also one of my very best of friends. I'm talking about friends who became friends through the internet.

Friends. I don't know what I'd do without the few I'm lucky enough to have. They know they matter, they know how sacred a place they hold for me in my screwy world. Unfortunately sometimes my worth is not equal, sometimes I guess I see things that aren't there like giant talking rabbits and friendships. Sometimes I put myself on a higher level than I am actually on, a higher place in the food chain. No one's fault but my own I guess.

Friends aren't supposed to be easy to get rid of, it's not supposed to be a blink of an eye and there goes a friend. I think that's the worst sort of dagger someone could throw my way, the dagger with the note attached that reads 'hey, get over yourself. you were never real and you never mattered.'

Paranoia sucks. I'm sure I've already been made into the enemy - already betrayed confidences and joined up with the other side for sport and mockery. This couldn't be further from the truth, rest your mind. I took what little I had and put it in a special place and there will never be a betrayal from me. Vindictive is something I am not and there will be no proving of the theory that everyone sucks through me, I care too much to cause intentional pain.

Yes, this is very much a pity party and I've eaten all the cookies so you're shit out of luck. I've closed comments, as much as I'm feeling bad for myself I'm not looking for pity from you guys. I know a few who read this crap actually do care, I'm not sitting here saying woe is me I'm all alone in the big bad world. That's not it. I'm sad, I'm incredibly freaken sad and I have to warble this. I'm supposed to be adding all my blogathon stuff and hawking you all for sponsorship but I just want to turn off the computer and go get hopelessly lost in hooking a rug or making a mosaic or doing a jigsaw puzzle. I was completely wrong and I'm looking pretty stupid right now and it's no one's fault but my own. I'm real. I thought I was real. I really thought I was real. I'm sorry I placed myself on a level I was not.

I shouldn't have done that. I assumed again.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to eat another batch of cookies and go listen to sad music. Actually, you shouldn't even have read this, it's me feeling bad for me. So I warble. Then I cry.